House Ex-Husband Diaries

What happened?

2008-05-22T20:55:00.004+10:00

I don't want to write a nasty, spiteful rant so I will instead simply supply a link that pretty much mirrors what happened to me.

High flynig wives ditch husbands they wanted to stay home

Please don't read this and let it put you off being a House Husband but please take it into consideration. Don't just take it for granted that "this would never happen to me..."

It certainly happened to me and now I am sad.

House Ex-Husband

2008-05-08T23:22:00.002+10:00

I am no longer a House Husband. I am a House Ex-Husband. My wife left me and I am sad.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon...

2006-05-25T08:21:00.000+10:00

'Twas a quiet mid October evening in 2004 when I first performed one of the most important rituals all fathers must under go as they raise their children. The Pulling of the Finger. I recall the events of that magical night...

After we had discussed the goings on of Day care that day, (apparently the oldest got into trouble for pulling his pants down and pointing his bum at a group of girls), I decided it was time. There was just some primeval 6th sense inside of me that told me "now is the time".

So I pointed my finger at him and said the words that will stay with me forever;

"Son, pull my finger".

Thankfully I was able to perform with perfect timing and the look on his face was priceless. He didn't know wether to look amazed or laugh or both. In fact he took my hand to make sure I didn’t have anything in it and when he couldn't find anything he said;

"Dad your finger is magic! Can you do it again?"

"Sorry boy. The magic has worn off for now. Maybe in the morning".

Sadly like so many childhood mysteries, the magic faded and they discovered the secret behind this mysterious event. But today brigs a new joy. As I'm trucking the boys and their mates to soccer training I hear from the back seat, "Hey pull my finger and see what happens."

From Father to Son it passes and so it will continue throughout the ages like a farmer handing over his land to his oldest son or a Mason sharing the secret handshake and the names of the next 4 American Presidents.

Comments, comments. Who's got the comments?

2006-05-24T14:03:00.000+10:00

Sorry to all the people who have entered comments here recently. I've decided to start using blogger's comments instead of teh HaloScan comments since I seemed to lose the old ones after a few weeks.

I'll investigate a way of bringing them across to the new system however I'm not sure if this is going to be possible.

I'm an Easter Egg Deviant

2006-05-08T06:40:00.000+10:00

As my kids get older I am finding more and more restrictions placed on my Easter Egg eating habits. You see ever since they’ve been available, the Easter Bunny has always brought me a 1kg chocolate egg and in the glorious years Nestle made them, I was showered with a 1.2kg whopper. On top of that is all the stuff I get from the rest of my family. When totalled, some years it will equal the land mass of a small Pacific Nation. My problem now is that with my kids at ages 4 and 5, I have fewer and fewer opportunities to actually eat it.

The first encroachment on my Easter Egg eating rights came 3 years ago when we were at my parents house for the holidays. As usual, I received a gluttonously large amount of chocolate and so did my Father. The problem was that for the first time, we were unable to wallow around the lounge room groaning under the weight of our sweet, sweet bounty. If we did, then by rights the boys should be able to have some as well. In case you're not aware, 2 year olds and large amounts of chocolate don't mix very well and it’s quite impossible to hide it from them.

At first we tried to trick them.

“Dad, what are you eating? Is it chocolate?”

“No son it’s just a carrot.”

“But Daaaaad carrots aren’t that colour! Show me the carrot you’re eating! Hey you’re eating Easter Eggs aren’t you!! Where’s my Easter Eggs?! I want my Easter Eggs!!! EEEEEGGGGGGSSSSS!!!!”

After being outsmarted by 1 and 2 year boys, we were forced to indulge in hiding. No longer could I laze on the lounge, lovingly cradling an Easter Egg bigger than my own head. Instead, if we wanted any of the good stuff we were forced to hide out in our rooms and lock our doors as if we were 14 year olds armed with an underwear catalogue and a box of tissues.

And so it has been from that year to this. While kilos and kilos of chocolate lay hidden in my wardrobe, mocking me from the musty darkness, I'm constantly monitoring the boys for the slightest sign of tiredness. If only the boys had a sleep I could have some chocolate.

“Don’t you feel tired boys? Wouldn’t a sleep feel so good? I wish I could have a sleep. Sleeps are sooooo much fun. Hmmmmm sleeeeeeep."

But no. Of course even the small amount of chocolate they are allowed to have is more than enough to keep them wide awake.

So now every Easter for the foreseeable future, I’m forbidden to eat Easter Eggs in daylight hours and am instead destined to scarf them down during the night like some kind of Vampire with an eating disorder.

Bloody Video Hits!

2006-05-05T18:25:00.000+10:00

I've always wanted to do an audio entry on House Husband Diaries but never in a millions years did I think the first one would be a recording of my 4 and 5 year old boys singing My Hump by Black Eyed Peas!

I've put this up so everyone can hear what I have to put up with every day because of Saturday bloody morning TV music shows!

Enjoy the Black Eyed Peas as performed by Kindergarten boys.

The C word

2006-05-03T14:12:00.000+10:00

When ever I travel in the car with the boys I always make sure we have the radio off so we can actually talk instead of just kill time.

Today as I travel down the freeway from a day out with my 4 year old son, he starts to go on about how he doesn't care what his older brother calls him;

"I don't care if he calls me a bum bum."

"I don't care if he calls me a poo head."

"I don't even care if he calls me the F word."

"That's enough talking about that kind of thing son."

"And Dad I don't even care if he calls me the C word!"

At this point I'm thinking holy crap on a stick my four year old son knows what the C word is!! Tentatively I ask him what the C word is and hold my breath, ready to watch the beginning of the end of his innocence through the rear view mirror, "What is the C word son?"

"Bugger. The C word is bugger and I don't even care if he calls me that." I've never been gladder that 4 year olds can't spell.

Yummy Broccoli/Salesmanship at Dinner time

2005-11-29T09:12:00.000+11:00

I've discovered a way to get my kids to eat just about anything I give them at the moment. You see they are at the age where they will believe anything you tell them because you are an adult.

Parents and Teachers alike have been taking advantage of this for centuries, getting in while they can before the kids grow up and realise that they've been spun a whole boat load of crap for so long and they don't have to take it any more. So when I'm asked "what's for dinner?", my answer is always prefixed with the work "yummy".

For example; "Daaaaad, what are we having for dinner?"

"Yummy chicken and yummy rice"

"Yeah yummy!"

This also works for things that may not traditionally be as yummy. "Daaaaad, what are we having for dinner?"

"Yummy broccoli and yummy potatoes with yummy chops"

"Yeah yummy!"

What's really interesting is that I heard John Howard will be using this very same tactic to help get his IR Reforms through the Senate.

"Oh Barneby... I've got some very yummy IR legislation for you..."

2005-11-22T12:20:00.000+11:00

OMG Check out the rack on Baby Jesus!!!

As I searched my son's school bag the other day for uneaten lunches etc... I came across an activity sheet he had been working on. It was from the scripture class that all Public School kids have once a week and I noticed something strange about the picture. It seemed to me that the Baby Jesus had quite the impressive set of breasts!

I asked him (my son not Jebus) what these things were on the picture and his reply, "They're boobies hehehehehe."

On the activity sheet it says to "Draw something you could do for one of the people in pictures." Apparently he thought he could give Jebus a little breast augmentation surgery. Well I suppose his birthday is coming up soon.

However it turns out my Messiah defacing son is not the only person who reckons Jebus looks better with a healthy rack. The picture above is of a seven storey statue in Eureka Springs, Arkansas which clearly shows "Christ the Lord" with a C cup, long flowing hair and a dress or robe. He was supposed to be a bloke right??

N.B. Please note I'm not trying to be blasphemous or insulting. If your faith is not strong enough to cop a small joke, it may be time to take another look at why and what you believe.

2005-11-21T10:58:00.000+11:00

2005-11-18T10:49:00.000+11:00

Dobbed in

"One day when we were in the car and Mummy was taking us to school we couldn't move for a very long time because there were so many cars"

"Really? When was that?"

"It was a couple of days ago and we were very late to school and Mummy was saying lots and lots of swear words"

"Wow"

"Yes and she kept saying naughty words and we could move because there were so many cars. She was a naughty girl wasn't she Daddy?"

2005-11-14T10:05:00.000+11:00

The Counting of the Three. Taming Rouge States and kids in shopping centres.

What do you think when you hear the phrase one...twooooo...Don't let me get to three...THREE!! Brings back the memories huh? If you're a parent you've probably already applied this staple of discipline at home, a shopping centre or where ever else your little hellion(s) are causing a scene.

If you're a Monty Python fan, you may associate it with the employment of the Holy Handgrenade of Antioch. This is the classic scene where Brother Maynard reads from the Holy Book of Armaments ;

"And the LORD spake, saying, first shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then, shalt thou count to three. No more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, nor either count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, is counted, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it."

You really have to watch Michael Palin deliver that but in both cases, they can be used very effectively. Use them incorrectly and they can cause a lot more trouble than they fix.

I assume the consequences of improper handgrenade usage are obvious to most people. The results following incorrect use of the magic 1...2...3 tactic however can only be only appreciated by the experienced parent. Basically as with any threat, you have to be willing to back it up or your child is going to very quickly realise you are as toothless as the United Nations no matter what your threaten them with. Get yourself into that situation and your little angels are going to act like Iran or North Korea every time you step out of the house.

"Put that lolly down. We're not buying it today." OR "Stop enriching uranium, you're not allowed to do that."

"Put it down or you're going to be in BIG trouble" OR "Dismantle your nuclear weapons making facilities or we're going to impose sanctions"

"One...twooooo....if I get to three you're in VERY BIG trouble mister....THREE!!" OR (you have to picture Koffi Anan saying this) "One...twooooo...don't make me fly down there and begin bilateral negotiations...THREE!!"

It doesn't really matter what you use to back this up, no ice cream after dinner, sent to their room, Aircraft Carrier parked outside their Capital, just as long as you follow through with it and they know what it is with out having to be told because of what happened to them last time they did it.

Once you have that part down, you can then step up to some more advanced variations of this technique. In fact once you get good enough at it you can stop them in their tracks no matter how many lollies line the shelves with just a look and three fingers held up, slowly counting down to zero.

2005-11-07T08:10:00.000+11:00

You're in it Dad

"Dad that ring on your finger means you love Mummy."

"Yes it does."

"And Dad, that ring means you're in love with mummy."

"It sure does."

"And that means you're in it. It means you're right in it."

"I sure am boy. I sure am"

2005-11-05T15:39:00.000+11:00

My son grabs bums at the Supermarket

My son has started up quite an embarrassing habit in the Supermarket. While he's sitting in the trolley or standing on the front of it, he's started to hold out his hand as we go up and down the aisles.

Normally this would not really be a problem except he doesn't care what his hand happens to come in contact with. Maybe he'll grab some fabric softener, maybe he'll grab some tomato sauce, or just maybe he'll grab some women's ass as she searches the bottom shelf for a long lost can of tuna.

This has happened a few times now and each time I'm left not knowing what to do. Obviously my first priority is to convince this woman that it wasn't me! I found out pretty quickly that a wink and the line "If it was me you would have known about it" doesn't produce the desired result. So I'm forced to resort to some sort of pathetic pleading to convince her it was my son and not me like someone's Dad blaming the dog for a fart.

Fortunately so far I haven't been slapped.

2005-10-30T16:36:00.000+11:00

Should kids be allowed to watch Video Hits and Rage on the weekends?

For the last few weeks my boys have been walking around singing "... a doing, doing doing". I'm always picking up their little mannerisms and sayings so we were often joining in a rousing rendition of "... a doing, doing doing".

Up until today I've been thinking this was all very funny but then as I'm making my breakfast this morning I hear "... a doing, doing, doing" from the background TV noise and came out to see what it was that we've been singing.

For those of you who don't know it, this is an Eminem song and the line my 3 and 5 year old boys have been cheerfully singing goes, "The way you move it, I can't believe it, I ain't ever seen an ass like that. The way you move it, you make my slinky go... a doing, doing doing."

Can you imagine the look on my face as I watched on not knowing whether to laugh, shout or cry as I watched Eminem sing the proper words to the song! We'd been tromping around the house singing about getting an erection! We'd been walking around the SHOPS singing about getting an erection!!

What ever happened to Michael Jackson, George Michael or Boy George? Now there's a couple of clean cut guys you could be safe to let your kids watch.

2005-10-28T12:58:00.000+10:00

In my day...

Well after a BIG break I've had some stuff happen that I really must get down.

First and foremost, I'm now 30 years old. There I've said it. I'm no longer a twenty something. I'm now at age where sporting greats start to think about retirement before their team mates and commentators begin to call them "The Old Man". I'm now at the age where it's scary to think that the people doing their Year 12 exams at the moment had not even started school when the first Gulf War started. And Yes I can hear all the 40 and 50 year olds thinking "Oh you poor diddums turning 30 oh poor baby..."

But turning 30 had not really hit me until just the other day as I was picking my eldest son up from school. You know how as you get older you catch yourself trotting out your parents Golden Oldie phrases like "What is that crap on the radio?" or "You're not getting any ice cream until you finish your dinner?" Well if you become a parent yourself they start to roll off the tongue pretty easily as your kids get older but just last week I had a big one.

My son was complaining that I only gave him one lunch order from the school canteen a week and he wanted two. That's when it happened. I looked down and said those momentous words, "In my day I never had lunch orders." And then I let off the second barrel, "When I was a boy at school, I hardly ever had money for the canteen and if I did I had to wait in line to get my lunch."

As soon as I'd said it I realised what had happened. I think that was the moment I really turned 30.

2004-12-09T07:57:00.000+11:00

A Rude Awakening

This (pictured right) is what I woke up to this morning. Crawling along my arm was the most feared of all Australian spiders. The White Tailed Spider.

In my rational mind, I knew there was nothing to worry about. These little guys are no more dangerous than a bee or even less so.

The reason they are one of Australia's most feared animals is because of sensationalist media like A Current Affair, The Daily Telegraph etc...

In actual fact, White Tailed Spiders are very handy to have around the house. It's just hard to appreciate it when you wake up at 6:30am with one on your arm.

Unfortunately, these spiders have been falsely linked to a medical condition known as necrotising arachnidism. This is the one where you see the westie being interviewed by Ray Martin (they're always westies on ACA) holding out her flabby tuckshop lady arm with the hideous rash and rotting skin. They will then go on to say that this is caused by a White Tailed Spider bite. Of course their condition is never a result of not washing between the folds of fat on their arms, nor are they ever able to produce the spider that "bit them".

Actually when I contacted the CSIRO about these spiders, they told me that whenever anyone has come into a hospital or Doctor with a big unexplained rash or chronic skin condition like they saw on Ray, they have never been able to produce the White Tailed Spider that "bit them". Not once.

It is theorised that some people might have a reaction to its bite just like some people have reactions to bee stings however it would not be anything like necrotising arachnidism. For most if not all of us, being bitten by one of these guys would be just like being bitten by a Bull Ant, it might sting like a bugger and be itchy for a little while but that's it.

But the reason why they are actually good to have around the house is that their main source of food is other spiders. They love eating the little Black House Spiders that live in and around most homes.

So this was what the rational side of my brain was telling me as I watched this little thing sitting on my arm, tapping away with its front legs. At least it was for about 3 secs until I squashed the bloody thing.

I hate spiders.

2004-12-03T08:31:00.000+11:00

Friday Cop Out - recycling my Radio Scripts again

For everyone who’s ever dreamed about the clean and efficient production of electricity, I have both GOOD NEWS and BAD NEWS.

First the Good News. Scientists have discovered a method of electricity production using a totally renewable fuel that has virtually no waste by products and will eventually see the end of nuclear, coal and hydro electric power plants.

The Bad News is that this totally renewable fuel source is only found on the moon.

This elusive fuel is called Hellium-3 and once we figure out a way to go up there and get it, we’ll be saying goodbye to the dirty and environmentally damaging ways we produce power at the moment.

We’ve known about the existence of Helium-3 for quite some time. However it wasn’t until 1985 that we first discovered there was substantial amounts of the stuff in the moon soil that Neil Armstrong and “Mr. Second Place” Buzz Aldrin and the other guy brought back with them.

Actually it’s not exactly true to say there is no Hellium-3 on Earth. There is some but not enough of it for use in energy production. In fact a few short months ago, researchers at the University of Wisconsin Fusion Technology Institute were able to successfully initiate and maintain a fusion reaction using Helluim-3. But to allow us to start powering our homes and industry with this seemingly magical stuff, we need a lot more of it.

The samples that came back from the moon show us that its surface contains Hellium-3 at around 13 parts per billion. Now that while that doesn’t sound very much, probably close to the amount of urine in your average swimming pool, it means that we’d only have to process about two square kilometres to get approximately 200 kilos. That would be enough to power a city of one million people for a year and would also have a projected value of $200M Australia Dollars.

So why is it that this stuff is all over the moon like kid’s wee in a council pool, while down here on Earth we have none? I’m glad you asked.

Hellium-3 is created by the massive fusion reactions that power the Sun. As Helium radiates out from the Sun as a product of these reactions, it’s bombarded by cosmic rays. These rays knock out a neutron or two and turn the Helium into Hellium-3. The stray neutrons also run into other Helium atoms, knocking out their neutrons, creating even more Hellium-3.

These newly formed atoms travel throughout the Solar System until they run into something like an asteroid or a planet or even our moon. The reason they don’t tend to end up on Earth is because they are repelled by our atmosphere and magnetic field. Since the moon has no atmosphere, it’s able to collect a lot more and since it is the closest piece of rock to earth, it makes it the easiest to get to.

So say we do head up to the moon, extract this gas from the soil and bring it back down to Earth, what do we do with it then? That’s where a Fusion Reactor comes in.

While we already have fusion reactors using fuels such as deuterium and tritium, we have not been able to use them to make commercial amounts of electricity yet. The main reason is because your average fusion reaction generates heat equivalent to the surface of the Sun. The only way to stop the reaction from vaporising everything in the immediate vicinity is to use a magnetic containment field. Current technology forces us to keep these fields small. They also produce a large amount of radiation.

The great benefit in using Hellium-3 is that when it’s fused with deuterium, the reaction produces far less heat and radiation, which means it, can be easily contained and even located in populated areas quite safely. The other advantage is that a Hellium-3 deuterium reaction produces a high energy proton, which can be directly converted into electricity with an efficiency of 70%. Coal and even Nuclear Power plants generate their power by creating vast amounts of heat which is used to create steam which in turn spins massive turbines which create the electricity. This is a far less efficient way to generate power.

So for the tiny estimated sum of twenty billion dollars Australian, we could be sending up a new generation of space ships and starting a mining colony on the moon. Even if the only purpose of this moon base were the production of Hellium-3, it would still be a very profitable goal. However inhabiting the moon will only be our first step towards sending humans to the outer limits of our galaxy.

2004-12-01T10:58:00.000+11:00

Chop Chop

So I'm on the phone yesterday with the Managing Director of my work and we're talking about having a Vasectomy.

Now there's a sentence you don't hear every day. But yes I was talking to my Managing Director about having the chop. I've never tried to hide the fact that I now shoot blanks and have even gone to the extent of describing the entire thing in detail for anyone who is planning on getting one.

But I suppose yesterday was the first time I had ever done so over the phone while sitting on a packed Sydney commuter train. How did that come about? I'm glad you asked.

I suppose it was caused by the sort of attitude that pervades you as 5pm rolls up. All your thoughts are geared towards getting home, getting to the train on time or getting in position on the platform so you increase your chances of getting a seat.

On top of all that, I was almost finished my book so you could say I was in a very goal orientated frame of mind. Distractions such big, fat, stinky blokes sitting next to me or what anyone else thought of what I was doing or saying becoming irrelevant.

So I got off the phone and noticed that a few people were looking at me strangely. Could it have been their simple annoyance at me for talking on my mobile on the train? Or was it possibly something to do with the fact that they would have heard me use such choice phrases as;

"Mate having the chop is the best thing you'll ever do" or "Yeah the pain is minimal especially when you are trying your damndest not to get a hard-on while the nurses hold your dick".

I might have to start travelling in a different train carriage from now on.

2004-11-30T09:26:00.000+11:00

When a Poo'n' needs Do'n'

If you walked into a Public Toilet and saw some guy with his face pressed up against the crack in the door of one of the cubicles, what would your first reaction be?

"What the!?..."

"Why did I choose today to leave my mace and stun gun at home?"

or of course "Wow what's George Michael doing here?"

When little kids need to use Public Toilets this is sometimes what happens.

Taking a wizz is no problem. In fact it's all a lot of fun. In the words of George Castanza "Isn't it more fun to use the urinal?" It sure is. I can remember back in the day where the Coffs Harbour R.S.L had a urinal that was about 20m long.

If you could start at one end and keep going until the other end without finishing or falling over and making an embarrassing mess of yourself, it was a job well done.

If me and the boys need to go at the same time, we'll all line up together looking like some sort of cheeky postcard. This is especially true as they don't yet understand that you don't need to pull your pants all the way down just to take a wizz.

But when there's a Poo'n' that needs Do'n', it's a bit of a different story. The boys are a little bit too old to go into the Women's with Mum so I get the toilet duty whenever we are out and if "the turtle is poking his head out" we can't wait until we get home.

The whole procedure goes a little something like this. First I'll take a look inside the cubicle to make sure it is a clean as a public toilet gets, make sure there are no sharps or anything like that in there and that the dunny roll is sufficiently stocked.

Then the little man is sent in and they ALWAYS feel the need to lock the door. They don't really care who sees them with their pants around their ankles, dangling their feet over the front of an adult size toilet, they just like playing with things.

Then the waiting game begins...

I'm left standing out the front of the cubicle like some sort of casually dressed Bathroom Attendant waiting for a flush and an "I'm finished dad". But when a few minutes have passed and the flush doesn't come or the triumphant call has not been made, I have to check in to see everything is OK.

Unfortunately the only real way I can do this is by peering through the crack between the frame and the door to make sure he hasn't fallen in or he's not playing with a syringe that my earlier inspection might have missed. And of course it's this time that someone else happens to walk into the toilet and sees me watching what's going on in one of the cubicles.

Whilst it's never funny at the time, thinking about the reactions of the guys seeing me do this is quite funny to ponder a few hours later. Some of them don't notice or don't care. Some of them are quite disgusted and walk out, not wanting to witness what might be some sort of bizarre homosexual spectacle.

But thankfully none of them have seen me peering into the cubicle and thought they come and have a look as well.

So next time you walk into a public toilet and you see some weirdo trying to watch what's happening on the other side of the partition, it'll either be me or George Michael so say hello.

P.S. If there is an entourage of Police waiting out the front, it's probably George and not me.

2004-11-29T09:30:00.000+11:00

Emergency Party Loot Bags & The Politics of Pass the Parcel

The party was a complete success and amazingly did not involve anyone suffering heat stroke.

Just like the average age in a wanky inner city Wine Bar, the temperature steadily rose into the high 30's. This made being outside only slightly better than the screaming and shrieking bouncing off the walls inside. At least it wasn't raining like most of our other parties.

Friday night saw us frantically planning for the next day's festivities until quite late. You would be surprised how much thought has to go into those little lolly bags you get at the end of the party.

You have to make sure no one is allergic to nuts or you can't put chocolate in there. You have to check who has little brothers and sisters that might choke on small things or you can't put toys or smarties in there. You have to check that every bag has exactly the same amount of stuff in it or there could be massive fights on the way home for anyone bringing more than 1 child to the party and most importantly you have to have Emergency Lolly Bags (No I'm not talking about a spare pair of Speedos here) in case you have mis counted the people coming or someone brings a brother or sister you weren't expecting.

But the one thing you have to get right even if nothing else is done right is Pass the Parcel.

Until you give it a go for the first time yourself, you have no idea what you are up for.

The first tip I'll give anyone who is contemplating a kids party is to use a Broad Sheet Newspaper like the Sydney Morning Herald, The Age or the Courier Mail. If you try to get out it by using the local paper or a Tabliod like the Telegraph, you will find that by the time you have a dozen or so layers on that bugger, it won't wrap up anymore. It's also a good idea for children to avoid any unnecessary exposure to the Daily Telegraph.

The second piece of advice I would give to any prospective party planner is that you need two people to control Pass the Parcel. Of course you need one person on the music but you also need a much more covert person to play the part of spotter. Skimp in this area by trying to get away with just "Mister Music" and you won't get past 5 layers of the parcel before things get ugly.

I hate to burst your bubble but Pass the Parcel is not as random as you might have thought it was when you were growing up. In actual fact it is a highly political game complete with crying and dirty tricks. It's not just a simple matter of making sure you have wrapped an equal number of layers into the parcel for each kid and then making sure each kid gets at least one go at unwrapping the parcel.

As you will see once the game begins, everyone is happy and excited. They see the first two or three kids open the parcel and find a chocolate or a toy inside and they can't wait until it's their turn to unwrap it. Then the parcel gets back around to them but the music doesn't stop. It might stop for the person next to them or the person just before them instead.

After about 4 turns of unwrapping, the tears will start to flow and the dirty tricks start to come into play. This is where you need your covert spotter to help you determine who "needs" to have the next turn. It's the spotter's role to carefully judge the emotional state of not only the children in that expectant little circle but also their parents.

It's a simple case of the squeaky wheel gets the grease or in this case chocolate. What's funny is that it might not be the child who is whinging but possibly the parent sitting behind them with an obvious "Don't worry little Johnny, you'll get a turn soon".

Then the kids will start to employ tactics of their own. Passing it quicker so it goes past them more times, passing it very, very slowly so they hold onto it longer or sometimes pretending they heard the music stop and beginning to open it.

Little do they know that every pass the parcel game is as rigged as any Ukrainian election.

2004-11-26T21:29:00.000+11:00

T Minus 12.5 hrs and counting

They're coming...

2004-11-25T08:40:00.000+11:00

The calm before the storm

It's now about T minus 48hrs until the house will be filled with the shrieks, cries and sugar induced craziness of 3 and 4 year olds.

My youngest boy is turning 3 tomorrow and his obligatory party is Saturday. It's coming has been like the countdown to Santa’s arrival, "Only two more sleeps until my party!"

As anyone who has been to one of these before could tell you, there is no accurate way to describe what you are up for until you experiernce it for the first time.

It starts off just like any B Grade disaster movie. Everyone is quietly going about their business, maybe reading the paper, maybe having a coffee or in my case praying to the weather gods that it won't rain for the two hours that 15 kids and their parents will be inhabiting our house.

Then someone starts to get an indication that something might be about to happen. The announcement goes out that the first kids have started to arrive but everything is still under control. The floor is still relatively free of soft drink and lolly snakes while the clouds that seem to loom over our house have yet to release their outdoors inhibiting rain.

After a while things start get a little wilder though manageable as more kids and their parents arrive.

But then it happens. The party reaches critical mass. For 3 and 4 year olds this is approximately 7 or 8 kids.

It's at this point that the screaming, shrieking and crying begins. But wait there's more. If you have girls attending the party, we'll also throw in some glass shattering squealing that only girls can produce. Mix this with about half a kilogram of lollies per child and you have an uncontrollable bedlam that swarms around the house, the backyard and anywhere else they can get their sticky, chocolate covers fingers into.

Once the party reaches this stage there is only one thing that will stop them. All of your cries for peace and your shouts for calm will surely go unheeded until you bring out the birthday cake.

I don't know why it is, maybe it's the hypnotic effect of the candles or maybe the promise of yet more sugar to further fuel their psychotic rampaging but the sight of that cake emerging from the kitchen will stop them cold.

Well at least for the 2 mins it takes to sing "Happy Birthday" and collect their slice of cake.

So as you're taking it easy this Saturday morning, sitting back drinking your second cup of coffee or sorting through the 10 kilos of Saturday morning paper to decide which 6 pages you actually want to read, think of me and what I'll be going through.

I'll be the one you see on Saturday afternoon walking around Woollies in a daze looking for something that will get semi digested red lolly snakes out of the curtains and the carpet and the cat's tail.

2004-11-23T08:39:00.000+11:00

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain

It's funny watching back all the movies you used to watch over and over as a kid.

The other night me and the boys sat down to watch The Wizard of Oz for the first time. It was very similar to their first time watching Star Wars where they were constantly asking questions for the first 15 mins. And let's face it, there is some pretty funky stuff in this movie.

"Dad, why is Monkey Blue?

"Dad, why is the Monkey Flying?

"Dad, why is that lady with the big black hat green?"

"Dad, why does the Tin Man sound like he lives in Newtown?"

What was funny to me though was that I knew almost the entire script off by heart but this was the first time I had watched it and knew what half the stuff meant.

You also pick up all the stuff they put in for adults, which kids would not even know, is there. For example, when they reach the Emerald City and the Door Guard greets them, it is actually the Wizard in disguise. And when they get in the Cab lead by the "Horse of a different colour", it is being driven by the Wizard in another disguise and lastly, the guard to the Wizard's room is also the Wizard in disguise.

This was pretty similar to when we watched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory recently. Gene WIlder is actually pretty good in the role but you never notice stuff like that when you are 8.

2004-11-22T08:27:00.000+11:00

Shouldn't a Pussy Tickler be on the top lip for it to work? ... Ahhh I get it now...

Waiting at the Arrivals Gate of Sydney Airport yesterday with my two boys, I notice that the women standing next to me seems a little familiar.

Where have I seen her before?

I turn around again to try and place her but she just gives me a polite smile and says nothing.

Then after a few more minutes, she says to little boy she is battling with;

"Why can't you stand still and be quiet just like those two little boys?"

A sense of parental pride washes over me. It's not often my boys are used as a public example on how to behave. So then I'm just about to turn around and ask her where I know her from when out through the arrivals gate ambles the guy she and her little boy are here to pick up.

It's Shannon Noll.

Ah so that's where I've seen her before. I've been standing next to Shannon Noll's wife for 30 mins.

I assume he was coming for the Australian Idol Final that was on last night. Did anyone else get the irony of Channel 7 playing the Wizard of Oz the night before the final? Oz of course containing Munchkins of questionable sexuality and Wicked Witches.

But it's good to know that my boys are better behaved that Shannon Noll's. It's also good to see that Aussie music stars don't travel around with a massive entourage of hangers on and Yes Men like a lot of Americans do.

P.S. U2's new album comes out today, if anyone accidently buys two of them, please feel free to sling one my way.

2004-11-18T21:49:00.000+11:00

It makes all the washing and cleaning worth it

I get to stay home and watch the 1st Test against New Zealand while everyone else has to go to work and watch the Baggy Green desktop score board tick over.

So in my best Nelson Muntz accent "Ha ha"

2004-11-17T10:15:00.000+11:00

"It's not my fault, I was drunk" says Priest

This is the excuse given by the Croatian Catholic Church when they found out about the scandal involving one of their Priests.

Apparently Josip Stefancic, known as "The Sheriff" in his local parish, went on a drunken rampage in downtown Slunj that ended up with him being arrested after he crashed his car into a tree.

Witness reports indicate that Stefancic hit the bottle big time before getting into a argument members of his Parish, beating the crap out of a few of them up and then to top it off, pulling out a rifle and threatened to kill them everyone.

But of course it wasn't all his fault. The Slunj region's bishop, Mile Bogovic, explained;

"Stefancic did not act alone. The wine was with him,"

Croatia's Catholic Priests aren't too happy about the new zero-tolerance drink-driving law either, arguing that they have to imbibe wine as part of their work.

Yeah sure

2004-11-16T08:30:00.000+11:00

The All New City Rail Board Game!

Now you can share the joys of commuting to work on the train with the whole family.

Note: Drunken incoherent slobs, Hungry Jacks wrappers and broken air conditioning not included.

2004-11-15T14:09:00.000+11:00

Flying Solo

So my wife has been whisked off on a work junket to USA for a week. This is the third time she has been overseas.

Where's the justice?!

So far she's been sent to Auckland, London and now Denver while I get sent to Redfern.

At least she always comes back with a couple of litres of duty free alcohol.

Hmmmm Scotch ...

2004-11-12T09:54:00.000+11:00

Is there a place for Reverse Discrimination?

I have been of two minds on this issue for quite a while but before I go any further let me say three things.

First of all, I may be misinformed on some of the things below so PLEASE tell me if something I have said is factually wrong.

Secondly, I am a twenty something(just!) married guy with all my hair and an athletic build that owns two properties. So the level of discrimination and disadvantage I have met in my life is most likely between bugger all and none. Therefore my point of view may be a little skewed because of this.

Thirdly, I'd also like to say that I am vehemently against discrimination based on race, age, sex, religion, disability, sexuality etc...

So with those disclaimers out of the way, I'll explore what I have been throwing around for a while.

Reading an article in today's Sydney Morning Herald(I think you might have to be registered with the Herald or the AGE to read it) got me thinking about this topic again.

It talks about how the Government is thinking about placing conditions on the special welfare handouts given to Aboriginals. Conditions such as their Parenting payments being subject to the children attending school, having health checkups and even more controversially, instead of just handing them cash in the bank, giving them a smart card so the money can't be spent on alcohol.

Now acting Race Discrimination Commissioner, Tom Calma, said;

"he would be deeply concerned if conditions were to be introduced placing restrictions on access to services for one part of the community defined by race.

but he obviously is not concerned in the least bit that these same people receive these benefits simply because of their race. They are not means tested and no one else no matter how needy has access to these payments unless you are Aboriginal.

So my problem with this is that people who feel like they are discriminated against say they simply want to be treated just like everyone else. But what's the deal with these payments when everybody else does not get them?

This is something that Pauline Hanson gained a lot of support over when she wanted to abolish a lot of this discrimination based on race. But I don't think it's that simple.

It is possible that reverse discrimination has a place. For example Aboriginal people can get A LOT of assistance in getting a place at Uni including a GREATLY reduced TER requirement and financial assistance that is not means tested. This may seem unfair to non Aboriginal people but what it does is increase the numbers of Aboriginals in Tertiary Education and makes a dent in the cycle of poverty that often exists their community.

It also serves to increase their profile and status amongst their peers and family, which may influence others to do the same. This can only be good for everyone and in the long term save and earn the country a lot of money.

The Labour Party's quota of women parliamentarians is another example of this. Whilst it goes against the basic principle of putting the best possible person in the job, it does promote women in politics, which is something we need a lot more of. Amanda Vanstone and Bronwyn Bishop not withstanding.

So I think at the moment I have the view that there might be a place for reverse discrimination in some cases however that should not be extended to financial payments.

No one should receive money simply because they are or are not a particular race and ANY Government payments should be means tested.

If you are in need and are ready to help yourself, you receive that help. You should not receive payment wether you need it or not because of your race and conversely you should not be denied payment when needed because of your race.

2004-11-11T11:45:00.000+11:00

House Keeping

It's time to acknowledge a couple of sites that appear in my referrals daily or ones I have been reading daily.

In no particular order...

Stilt over at Balmian Boys Do Cry is a site I have been enjoying and I definitely welcome stilt's comments on my mine. Check out today’s interesting article on Council Stupidity.

Dirk Thruster who looks after Arm The Insane is someone else I have been reading. Today he's got some cool stuff on the stupidity of Greenies.

Rat from Lunacy 101 has been a long time commenter around here and it’s high time I sent some back his way.

And last but not least is Russ from The Daily Yak.Russ is a fellow House Husband from the US or as they call it over there Stay-At-Home-Dad.

P.S. Today is Rememberance Day. Thankyou to all the Diggers who gave their lives that we may live as we do.

2004-11-10T09:13:00.000+11:00

Summer won't be the same without the cream, the bone, the white, the off white or the beige

Even so, there is very good news in that everyone's favourite tubsy spinner is available for the First Test against the Kiwis.

According to the Sydney Morning Herald today, MacGill will once again be relegated to his familiar position of drinks carrier at best since Warnie is now "fit" for selection. MacGill must be getting quite the callous from pushing that cart so often.

"Although it was sore, the pain settled down very quickly and he has managed it mainly with ice and a compression bandage," Australian team doctor Trevor James said of Warne's thumb. "He's available for the Test."

The race for the middle order is also on between Lehmann (not so slim himself anymore), Clarke and Katich. With Clarke's recent form and flukish bowling results he might sneak in.

In other cricket news, it appears that Melbourne has suffered even more rain than usual and have put the Telstra Dome on notice that the Boxing Day Test maybe shifting to their place.

Apparently, all this recent rain has delayed work on preparing the surface and left the MCG looking like a 100,000 seat mud wrestling arena. (Note to self: Approach the MCG Trust about hosting a massive mud wrestling event. Crowd participation encouraged)

"There's no panic stations yet, the wicket to be used in the Test is currently being prepared indoors and will be dropped in, while the new turf was ready to be rolled out, the spokesman said. A Cricket Australia spokesman said there were no concerns over possible delays and that Ware's team had a "really good record of delivering for the Boxing Day Test".

2004-11-09T13:53:00.000+11:00

It's good to be back in Sunny Redfern

I'm now back working in lovely Redfern 1 day a week instead of being chained to the office in the CBD.

Now even though my office window overlooks Darling Harbour and I am 2 mins walk from all the shops and things there are to do in the CBD of Sydney, I would still rather be in Redfern.

Sure you have to look over your shoulder every 10 metres you walk to confirm there is no one sneaking up behind you to head hit you over the head or stab you, it's still better than the CBD.

Nothing gets you going in the morning like a brisk walk away from Redfern Train Station (pictured) or the brisk walk past the Early Opener and the 8am drunks already propping themselves up with the bar.

The CBD simply hasn't got any character. Sure there was the excitement of the Police Raid the other week and sure there is more than 3 places to get your lunch but Redfern is just a cosy little suburb to work in. Assuming you don't get robbed or raped or bashed. But other than that it's fine.

2004-11-08T09:51:00.000+11:00

I'm a Red Wine Connoisseur

Out to dinner with my wife and her parents on the weekend, I tasted the red wine and thought that it might have been a little off.

I passed it over for my Mother-in-Law to try as she is quite knowledgeable on the subject.

"Could you tell me if this wine is corked?"

"No it's a Shiraz"

"Oh I see."

2004-11-05T10:11:00.000+11:00

Friday Cop Out

Since it's Friday and I and everyone is lazy on Fridays, I thought why not just use something else I had already writen and stick it up here

So here is some of the Science News I did for my Radio Show this week.

Did I hear someone say Bat groupies?
No I’m not talking about the kind that Adam West and Burt Ward had back in the late 60’s. Biologists from the University of Maryland have discovered that the males of some species of bats actually have female groupies.

In a study recently published in the journal Animal Behaviour, biologists from the University studied the songs and other sounds made by the Greater White-Lined bats found on the island of Trinidad in the West Indies.

They found that the more complex the love songs of the white-lined or as we’ve been calling them the Barry White-lined bats, the more females that hang around their territory. And of course just like with the groupies of human singers, we all know what happens next.

While were on the subject,
An Australian paper published in a Royal Society of London Journal has shown that some coral reef fish do not grow up until they find a mate.

What’s more, a juvenile fish will change sex according to the sex of its mate.

The study out of James Cook University looked at the Gobi and found that these fish would not mature until they found a mate. But it turns out they aren’t very picky. As the saying goes as long as its warm and moving.

Jean-Paul Hobbs from James Cook, believes this evolved from the predator rich environment the Gobis live in. It is very dangerous to swim around the reef in search of a life partner so when ever a young Gobi happens to run into another Gobi, that’s just who they choose. And if it turns out that they’re both the same sex, well the younger one simply changes.

2004-11-04T10:38:00.000+11:00

It's been a bad few weeks for the Lefties

I had no particular view on who should win either the Australian or American elections however it seems to me that the silent majority has spoken.

I wonder if this is a bit of a trend we will see going on for decades to come? I think as people get older, they become more conservative and since we have an aging population, are we in for a record stint for the Liberal and Republican parties?

I suppose we'll have to wait another 3 years to find out.

2004-11-03T08:17:00.000+11:00

Do I set my clocks 1hr forward or 1hr back?

And the Lord spake saying;

"Let an extra hour of sunlight bathe the earth in the months from November to March. And let the kiddies play of cricket and soccer and footy in this bounty of light while the elders ponder and drink of Ale around the BBQ and the women prepare salads."

"Except in Queensland where I have yet to forgive those bastards for electing Jo Bjelke-Petersen."

Along with the sounds of cicadas in the evening and the smell of distant BBQs, nothing heralds the onset of summer like the start of Daylight Savings.

But when it comes time to set the clocks before going to bed, a lot of people have trouble remembering which way to turn them. An hour forward or an hour back?

To these people I have a simple solution. We all remember how many days are in each month by saying that little poem 30 days has September, April, June and November etc... but there is also a good one for remembering how to set your clocks to Daylight Savings Time.

A lot of people would know it already but for the rest it goes;

"Ahh Queensland... 1 hour and ten years behind the rest of Australia"

Therefore we wind our clocks forward 1hr every November.

2004-11-02T08:16:00.000+11:00

The race that intoxicates a Nation - The Melbourne Cup Drinking Game

Now whilst it could already be said that the first Tuesday in November is already just a big drinking game after 12pm, I have found a way to get even more booze into you.

This simple to play drinking game only requires a couple of beers or wine glasses each, a television and a designated driver.

Turn on the Channel Australian Idol coverage from 12pm and every time you hear Tim Webster, Tim Bailey, Mike Webster or Sandra Sully say the phrase "the race that stops a nation" you have to skull a drink.

You should find that you have about 6 under the belt by 12:45pm.

2004-11-01T08:30:00.000+11:00

The Good Ol' Days

Who can remember the back in the day when the object of the coolest game out there was to get an Italian guy to jump over a couple barrels being hurled at him by a gorilla sitting on top of a building site?

Back when the best way to impress your friends was to triumphantly display the hand held multi screen you had just "clocked".

Yes I had Donkey Kong and my friends had such other Nintendo Game & Watch classics as Oil Panic, Fire, and Green House. My cousin had Donkey Kong II and I think one of my other cousins had Donkey Kong Jr.

Of course like everyone else, I have long since lost my highly prized and very orange Donkey Kong and for a while now have been searching for a replacement.

For some stupid reason I did not think to check eBay and to my surprise I found them all over the place.

Around $50 will send you back to the 80's minus the crap music and the ridiculous hair. But say you don't want to pay $50 for a game some kid probably played while picking his nose?

Here's the next best thing. The other day I found this online version of Donkey Kong Jr. which is so true to the original, you'll swear you hear Australia winning the America's Cup or Carl Lewis winning his 6th Gold medal in the Los Angeles Olympics in the background.

But be warned! Playing this game at work could lead to doing no other work for the rest of the day, week or month.

2004-10-29T09:15:00.000+10:00

International No Ribbon Day

Anyone who travels by a city train station in Sydney knows that hardly a week goes by when you are not accosted by private school kids trying to offload a ribbon or a bear or as is the case today a bandana.

Whilst I'm sure that most if not all of the causes that these "Days" are supposed to promote are very worthy, I'm not so sure that anyone cares anymore.

Ever since the success of campaigns like Red Nose Day and Daffodil Day, every other cause has jumped on the band wagon and started pedalling all sorts of cheap Made in China pens and ribbons and badges in every mall and train station in Australia.

So now instead of willingly supporting one of these events, you find yourself plotting a strategic course through the scrum of Private School Uniforms trying to offload their wares onto you almost as zealously as someone handing out How to Vote Cards.

So I propose that Monday 1st November be either "International No Ribbon/Guilt Day" or alternatively "Get the HELL OUT OF MY WAY I'm late for my train day".

For more information on the spread of this problem World Wide, have look at Ribbon Campaign and check out the ribbons for causes such as;

Victims of Church Bombings

Families with loved ones in Prison

Supporting the Amish on the Internet

Pro Spaying and Neutering

Pagan Girls

and last but definitely not least Genital Integrity

2004-10-28T20:21:00.000+10:00

Tactical Defecation

Now surely I'll get a Google Wack for that Phrase.

Yesterday saw both my bathrooms being ripped apart by plumbers to install two new dunnies and two new basins.

And since they were going to turn up at the ungodly hour of 7:30am, I had to make sure everything was in order before they arrived. By this I mean that I had to make sure that everyone in the house has used EVERYTHING in the bathroom that they needed to as there would not be another chance until the late afternoon.

Now for kids this is not that much of a hassle. Especially for my youngest, I just had to yell down the hall, "You have to go and do a poo now because you won't be able to do another one for the rest of the day" and off he went.

For adults on the other hand, the issue is not so straight forward. Adults tend to get into a bit of a rhythm with these types of things and no amount of yelling down the hall from anyone was suddenly going to conjure up anything for me.

And so I went into training. Since I knew this was coming for a few weeks in advance, I was able to condition myself and change the rhythm just enough so that on the big day I could perform when I needed to.

Of course the boys could only hold onto some things for so long after having cereal with milk and juice for breakfast and then some water and stuff later on. I have to admit even I was pushing my boundaries by lunch time so when one of them walked up to me and asked to go to the toilet, I told them that we would all have to go in the back yard. Of coursethere there were celebrations all round at this annoucment. What guy doesn't enjoy taking a wiz in the garden?

The three of us all lined up watering the lawn in flagrant violation of Sydney's current restrictions, what a picture it would have made.

I did however stress many times to them that we were only doing wees. Nothing else. Repeat we are not going to do anything else!

Update...

Sadly I didn't get a Google Whack for the Phrase Tactical Defecation as the Google Whack rules stipulate that it doesn't count if you use quotation marks.

2004-10-27T07:40:00.000+10:00

Why don't the Socialists like me?

At lunchtime yesterday I walked up to the offices of radio 2SER in Sydney to choose some music for this weeks show.

2SER is on the top floor of the University Technology Sydney building and out the front there are sometimes student groups telling you how John Howard is scum because he did this or Phillip Ruddock is scum because he did that.

But yesterday's Left Wing representatives were the Socialist Alternative and they were there handing out leaflets for some up coming rally or protest.

Now I don't have a problem with this, if these guys want to spend their days standing out on the street instead of working well that's their business.

What I do have a problem with is that these brown shirt wearing, Trotsky wannabe losers did not hand me any of their leaflets. They literally pressed them into the hands of anyone who walked into their Pincer manoeuvre that looked like a student but when I walked past wearing a business shirt and pants, they wouldn't even look me in the eye!

Did they assume that because I've got a hair cut and got a real job that it was useless spending any time trying to sway me to their cause?

Do I look so close minded? Also I think the reverse is true, why spend time preaching to students when most of them would already be converted to your cause any way?

But I suppose it is the easier way out. Why spend time talking to someone you will need to expend a lot of energy to convince if you won't spend any energy on finding a job?

2004-10-26T10:58:00.000+10:00

Hands up who likes this layout better?

2004-10-26T08:13:00.000+10:00

The things that pop into your head while using Public Transport...

On the train this morning I was sitting behind a guy who obviously thought that the answer to his follicly challenging situation was a discreet comb over.

And as I sat behind this poor guy, the words to a song began to form as if by divine intervention.

And this is what the voices in my head were singing to me (sung to the tune of Hot Blooded by Foreigner);

I got a

Comb Over, Check it and see

I ain't had no hair since I turned 33

But don't worry, cause no one can tell

I got a, Comb Over, Comb Over

Comb Over, Comb Over

2004-10-25T08:59:00.000+10:00

Has anyone got a spare $235,000?

Normally I wouldn't ask but I really want this boat and it seems the $235,000 I had saved up was left in my jeans pocket and went through the wash.

Here's a picture of the boat I want and I promise to take anyone who donates the money out on it at least once.

I don't have Pay Pal set up so if you could just send the cheque or money order to:

House Husband
C/O House Husband Diaries
P.O. Box 666 SYDNEY 2000

2004-10-22T18:25:00.000+10:00

That Wascally Wabbit!

"So what did you do at Day Care today boy?"

"We did some drawing and painting"

"Did you do anything else?"

"Yes we saw the bunnies having hugs"

"That's nice"

"Yes and one of the bunnies was having hugs on the bottom and one of the bunnies was having hugs on the top!"

"Really!"

"And then the bunny tried to jump over the other one but he couldn't!"

"I see!"

2004-10-21T13:49:00.000+10:00

Alcohol. The solution to and cause of all life's problems

As nothing much else came to mind today I thought I'd post up what I'll be talking about on my Radio show on Monday morning (2SER 107.3 9am Monday if you're interested)

There are a couple of things we usually associate with drinking a lot of alcohol.

You’ve got things like slurred speech, going to the toilet twice for every drink after breaking seal and of course the Hang Over.

Now purely in the interests of science of course, I did some pretty comprehensive research in this area at a friends wedding last weekend. And it took me until around midday to recover from this research.

Because Hangovers are surrounded by so many Old Wives tales about how to prevent them and how to get rid of one once you have it, I decided to conduct some follow up research in the interests of helping out our University student friends who seems to be particularly susceptible to this condition.

So once again in the interests of science, I got stuck into Red wine, white wine, beer, scotch and bourbon and with the aid of some real research into the topic, I have been able to put together the actual mechanics of a hangover.

So lets take a look at some of the symptoms and what are their actual causes.

Now believe it or not a lot of hangover symptoms are very closely linked to the reason why we seem to spend half the night standing in front of a urinal or sitting on the toilet. When alcohol starts to enter your system, it stops the creation of the chemical vasopressin. Without this your kidneys simply send water straight to your bladder instead of sending it around the body to the arrears it is needed.

So as you become more and more dehydrated, the vital organs really start to scream out for water and so start taking it from the brain. When this happens the brain contracts until it starts to pull on the membranes which attach it to your skull which in turn causes the massive headache you wake up with.

What’s more, all this urination rapidly depletes the body of potassium and salts which is a contributing factor to the fatigue and nausea you feel. Alcohol also breaks down the body’s store of glycogen in the liver, which only serves to make you feel even worse.

But that’s only half the problem. As the alcohol is being broken down in the liver, a toxin even more poisonous that alcohol is produced called acetaldehyde. This toxin is in turn attacked by an enzyme call acetaldehyde dehydrogenase and a substance called glutathione.

This system works pretty well until you really start hitting the bottle and the liver’s stores of glutathione run out. When this happens the toxins really start to build up and you really start to feel bad.

Yet another contributing factor is what’s called the glutamine rebound effect. Glutamine is a natural stimulant found in the body but when you drink alcohol this stimulant is not produced until you stop drinking. And it’s then that the body goes into over drive replacing its lost stores of glutamine. Unfortunately it usually produces a lot more than it needs so when you come home after a big one and try to get some rest, you will not sleep properly because you are high on all these extra stimulants running through your body. This of course only makes you feel even worse in the morning.

And finally on top of all this is the main reason we are driving the porcelain bus the next day. When alcohol is absorbed by the stomach, the cells that line it become quite irritated. So when this happens, they start to produce hydrochloric acid. And as you cam imagine, that wouldn’t feel so great and it’s this that makes you feel sick. As the concentration of acid increases the nerves in your stomach start to tell your water starved brain that there is something not very nice down here and we want it out.

So how can we have our cake and eat it to? Is there a way to have a big night out and not wake up in the morning feeling, looking and indeed smelling like a train wreck?

First lets dispel some of the myths.

Coffee will not make you feel any better or sober you up like they do in the movies. About the only benefit coffee will have is that it may decrease your headache slightly in the short term. It makes it worse in the long term though because it will dehydrate you even further.

Hair of the Dog is pretty similar in that it might make you feel better in the short term, it will only worsen the whole experience in the long term.

One of the best things you can do to ward off a hangover is to simply drink water. Drink early and drink often. If you are able to stay hydrated you can sometimes wake up with no effects at all apart from the 2kg of loose change in your pockets and a handful of mysterious bruises.

If you weren’t able to keep the water up during the night, one of the best remedies is burnt toast. The reason this works is that the charred carbon on the toast acts as a filter and attracts all those nasty toxic by products of processing the alcohol.

If your combine this with a few sports drinks which will not only re hydrate you but will also replace all the salts and minerals you flushed down the toilet last night and will get you back on the road to recovery pretty quickly.

UPDATE...

You can listen to me delievring the above on Discovery, the radio show I am a part of.

Just click here to listen to this week's show.

2004-10-20T15:08:00.000+10:00

Dad what's a Jelly Master?

"Dad why does the big black man keep saying 'It is your Gestiny'?"

These and other questions were flying thick and fast as I sat down to watch Star Wars and Empire Strikes Back for the first time with my two boys.

I got the DVD Box set of Star Wars Episodes IV, V & VI for my birthday on the weekend and have been umming and aaring about when to let the boys watch it.

The decision came pretty quickly when I saw them watching Find Nemo and The Lion King recently.

For those who haven't seen either Nemo or Lion King, they follow the trend of recent "Kid's Movies" which sees the parents of the main character dying in a dramatic turn of thinly veiled violence, usually while the young character is watching on.

For example, in Finding Nemo, Nemo's Mother and all of his brothers and sisters are devoured by a hungry Barracuda in the opening scene, with Nemo himself being abducted by a SCUBA diving Dentist. (reckon I'll get a Google Wack for the phrase SCUBA Diving Dentist?)

The Lion King sees the little Lion cub standing on the sidelines while a heard of Wilder beast trample his Father to death right before his eyes. He too is then stripped from the rest of his family as he runs into hiding.

So I thought that my kids have already been exposed to copious amounts of violence and pretty adult themes at the hands of Disney and Pixar so Star Wars should be no problem. After all there is no blood, not that much violence and no one important to the story dies or even gets hurt very much.

So on it went and let me tell you sound and image quality are excellent. Especially when you consider it was filmed in the 70's!

The boys loved it to bits and were throwing me questions left right and centre.

"Who is that big hairy, fluffy man?"

"His name is Chewbacca. He's a Wookie"

"Who is that big yellow shiny man?"

"He's a droid called C-3PO"

"Why does he talk like Carson from Queer Eye?"

"I'll tell you when you're older son"

2004-10-19T13:15:00.000+10:00

Inconsiderate, Umbrella Toting Idiots

What's the most dangerous thing you can do in the city when it's raining?

Walking out in front of a truck on a wet road?

Precariously making your way across a muddy puddle on your way to a job interview?

Not even close. The most dangerous thing you can do in the city in the rain is walk on the foot path with a bunch of idiots with Umbrellas.

It seems just like a smokers and 4WD owners, you put an umbrella in someone's hands and they have absolutely no idea (or simply don't care) what an impact they are having on everyone else in their immediate vicinity.

Sticking an umbrella in someone's hand will see their common sense and empathy of anyone else trying to use the foot path go out the window in their selfish quest to make sure they are safe and dry at the expense of everyone else.

Does this happen in places less crowded? I have a theory that it usually only occurs in the city because people become less of an individual in the city. Especially when you are walking to work from a train or bus station with the rest of the heard.

I think possibly people in this type of environment are less likely to think of other people and instead focus on just getting to work and getting it over with.

Of course the reason it does not happen in less crowded spaces as much could simply be that you can get out of the road of these umbrella toting slobs.

2004-10-18T08:49:00.000+10:00

Hmmmmm... Silence

Last weekend saw my lovely wife and I jaunting up to sunny Nambucca Heads for 2 nights to a friend's wedding.

My Sister graciously accepted the task of looking after the boys for the weekend so off we shot up the Pacific Highway trying to get to the Motel before the night bell went to bed and we were forced to sleep in the car.

After about 3hrs or so, we came to a startling realisation. We had actually been talking to each other for 3hrs straight and that this was the most conversation we've had since having children!

We started to theorise why this was happening and came up with the following conclusion.

As anyone with kids or anyone who has looked after kids for a period of time knows, they are very noisy. This is especially so when you have two boys. So in the brief (oh so brief) moments of silence you may experience through out the day, you tend to simply sit back and just enjoy them. Soaking up the quiet like a sponge, almost as if you were trying to build up a store of sanity and serenity in anticipation of the next eruption of noise, violence and Thomas the Tank Engine.

So what seems to have happened over the last few years is that we have stopped having engaging conversations with each other about important topics of the day or even more trivial things. Instead, we are tending to simply flop on the lounge once we have the chance and just do nothing. Simply because we can.

Either that or I'm just boring to talk to.

2004-10-16T08:31:00.000+10:00

The First Pulling of the Finger

A few years ago I received some advice from an Uncle who said;

"Wait until your kids are about 4 before you get them to pull your finger for the first time. This way they get the full effect. They are just old enough to get the connection between the finger and the fart but still young enough to believe that it is real."

He has always been very knowledgeable in such things so I decided to take his advice and wait until my oldest son turned four.

Last week I decided "it was time" so one night after getting home late from work, I tried it out.

When I came home the boys were already in bed so I headed down to their room to ask what they got up to that day.

So I pointed my finger at him and said the words that will stay with me forever;

"Son, pull my finger".

"Dad your finger is magic! Can you do it again?"

"Sorry boy. The magic has worn off for now. Maybe in the morning".

I tucked them in again and they both started to doze off to sleep with a contended and amazed smile spread across their little faces.

These are truly the moments that make having kids so wonderful.

2004-10-15T20:20:00.000+10:00

Space Sandwiches

"Daddy. My sandwich is a bit frozen"

"No mate they are special "Space Sandwiches"!

"Why?"

"Because it is very cold in space so sometimes the Astronauts sandwiches get very cold too."

"Oh. Does their toast sometimes get frozen too?"

"No Son. They just use the Frozen bread button on the toaster"

"Oh"

2004-10-14T08:07:00.000+10:00

Camel Toe: The New Black

As great swathes of Australia experienced yesterday, the temps got up to 40 degrees in some places.

So going for a swim was definitely the order of the day if you weren't stuck in an office.

I headed down to the local pool and found it to be very crowded but that was not the only thing I saw.

The other startling thing I saw in great abundance was the phenomenon called Camel Toe.

Now sure you might expect to see one of two instances of this on a crowded beach or pool but yesterday it was more prevalent than going away parties for Labour Ministers.

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, have a look at this site which should explain the mechanics of it a little better than I might on this site.

I always assumed that it was an embarrassing rarity for this to happen to anyone, usually caused by wet swimmers with not enough lining on the front sticking to a recent Brazilian wax job.

Is it actually becoming popular or is it that the Brazilian has started to become very popular and women who have never gone swimming with one have not realised the consequences?

2004-10-13T09:26:00.000+10:00

This is a short story I wrote for a 2SER competition.

I didn't win and have always wanted to know if it is any good or not.

Any comments would be appreciated.

The Lone Cyclist

He cowers in a corner behind a rack of lacy nightgowns. Impotent. His back deformed while her handbag dangles idly by his side. Fingers detained by the last remnants of his will power, attempt to straighten, wanting to purge themselves of the effeminising article.

The clock on the far side of the small room seems never to move, yet still no sign of her leaving the change room.

If only they had a seat in here. Why don’t they have seats?

An empty hand ineffectively searches for a place to rest.

No not in the pocket. They’ll think your touching yourself!

Impatient eyes lust for stimulation, something to read, something to study. The room is filled with lust, its very purpose is stimulation. Forbidden images plaster the walls while illicit pictures adorn the racks, strung to the burgundy satin by thin strands of plastic.

They sing to an unoccupied mind like a Siren calling lost sailors to the shore, yet look upon them at your peril. These images bring with them a curse. Whether real or imagined, it exists.

Dirty old man!

A curtain parts and she calls to him. Dutifully he follows her into the antechamber, which has held her for so long and the parade begins.

Does this one make me look fat?

Does this colour look good on me?

Are you paying attention?

Would you like to see me in this one?

The blood cascades downward from the brain to areas whose sudden demand make it hard to think coherently. Arousal must be pushed aside quickly and ignored. There can be no distractions at a time like this. Every answer must be one hundred and ten percent correct, lest the terrible consequences be unleashed.

There is no multiple choice in this game.

A window provides a welcome opportunity to dream. To remember what it’s like on the outside. The freedom to do what you like, look where you want to look, sit where you want to sit. No questions to answer, no handbags to hold.

A lone Cyclist slowly drifts past his field of view, a guiding hand on the handle bar, the other carefully clinging to a carton of beer.

His mid morning drunkenness and grimy appearance are at first repulsive, yet stir emotions of pity and sadness. Sorrow at the plight of a people and a community who appear unable to pull themselves out of a hole that other people have dug for them.

Their eyes meet briefly.

Poor Bastard.

The metallic squeal of a rusty pedal echoes off the newly painted walls of the early opener. It travels down the empty lane until it mingles with the ever present traffic on the main road.

Even though the sun began its passage across the sky long ago, many of those it illuminates remain dormant.

A carton of beer, a precious morning cargo, makes its final journey.

A pair of blue and white thongs sitting atop the rotating pedals steadily moving the cyclist past disgusted pedestrians, across chaotic intersections and around cars banked up at traffic lights.

The flag of an ancient people contrasts sharply with the green box pressed against it.

Arriving at the top of his well known street, the cyclist delivers his package to a seated mob. The varying states of lucidity range from the sparkling innocence of a four year old child, to the stupor of an elderly woman, still recovering from the inebriated beating she suffered hours earlier.

The carcass of the box is ripped open before the contents are hungrily devoured and dispersed as if a Pride of Lion’s were tearing apart the rib cage of a Gazelle. Fearful commuters saunter by, trying to ignore what goes on in that street.

The discarded remains will later be thrown upon the burning footpath.

The cyclist takes his seat inside the circle of poverty and claims his share of the prize. Swallowing his addiction, he leans against a lonely tree, gazing up at the top of his street, a thousand yard stare, while the Police on Over Watch stare right back at him.

A wry smile broadens across his smooth face as he thinks about the guy he saw trapped inside the lingerie shop a little while ago.

Lighting a borrowed cigarette, he recalls the helplessness in the guy’s face and the look of impotence that inhabited his hunched over body but also the look of pity as their eyes met briefly.

Brother you can keep your pity. You were the one standing in front of a change room holding a handbag.

Poor Bastard.

2004-10-12T11:07:00.000+10:00

Bangalore Bungling

If you have ever been misfortunate enough to have to call Dell for product support in the last year and a bit you would have noticed the dramatic difference in how the calls are answered and obviously who is answering them.

I have nothing against the actual people taking the calls, in fact I think they are very nice people who go out of their way to do what ever they can for you.

The big problem is that they are bound by a strict scripted procedure from which they are not allowed to deviate.

In the past when you called Dell or the ever growing amount of IT companies sending their Call Centres to India, you would get someone who actually knew somwething about IT and were given a lot of latitude to use their brains to fix your problem.

When ever I call them now, I find I am forced to straight out lie to them just to get through their trouble shooting script so I can get my hardware fixed. I know what the problem is and how it needs to be fixed but these guys are forced to go through the entire trouble shooting procedure before they will send you a replacemnet part.

On the plus side, if you hang ont he line long enough, they sometimes give you advice on how to keep your cricket picthes at the dusty best during even the heaviest of monsoons.

2004-10-11T08:34:00.000+10:00

A Shout out to the people who let me get my voice on the radio across Australia every week

Every Monday morning on 2SER 107.3 at 9am in Sydney and at 4:30pm on radio stations around Australia I've been going on about Science and other related topics with a bunch of other very smart people on a little radio show called Discovery.

This week on 2SER is Radiothon week where they are searching for subscribers to help fund the station which does not receive anywhere near the level of funding required to keep it going from the government.

If you like listening to 2SER 107.3 please give them a call on ph: 02 9514 9500 and become a subscriber or you can become a subscriber online at www.2ser.com

2004-10-09T07:48:00.000+10:00

Pulling the Finger of Democracy

Hi ho, Hi ho, It's off to vote we go.

Whilst I'm extremely glad I live in a stable Democracy like Australia, like a lot of people I don't like the actual process of voting very much.

First of all I have a problem with it being compulsory.

Secondly I don't like the fact that as I roll up to my local polling place under threat of fines, I am affronted by at least a dozen people trying to tell me how to cast my compulsory vote.

These party drones will sometimes get a little over zealous when trying to influence my decision and on more than one occasion I have had to physically move them out of the road so I can get past.

On top of all this, these actions are a little pointless as I live in Phil Ruddock's seat. I can't remember the last time an incumbent Front Bencher lost their seat no matter if they are in Government or the Opposition. I think little Kimy Beasley is the closest I can recall, almost losing his West Australian seat a few elections ago.

Something else I have found interesting that is especially true this time around is that most people are embarrassed to say they are a Liberal voter.

I was speaking to one of the guys at work the other day and he was telling me about something funny that happened to him in a Paddington restaurant recently.

He was sitting down to a nice meal with his lovely wife and her parents when the subject of politics unfortunately came up. As they lightly debated a few issues my mate was heard to say "I think Howard is going to get in this time"

Cue the cricket sound effects... he said it was just like in a movie where not only everyone at his table had stopped talking and were staring at him, but the entire restaurant had stopped mid conversation or even mid chew and were staring at him as though he had just recited a few choice phrases from Mien Kampf.

So in conclusion I don't know who is going to win today but for all you closet Howard voters out there, don't let the cat out of the bag until Kerry O'Brien announces the winner tonight.

The Finger has been pulled. Now lets see how much it stinks...

A helpful hint to anyone who hasn't voted today.

When you rock up to the polling place, have a kid hanging off one hand and a take away coffee in the other.

This turned out to be a spectacularly successful tactic to hold the how to vote card touting drones at bay.

Sure we were still swarmed over like Ohpra on a baked ham, but when they saw we were physically unable to take any of their propaganda they conceded defeat and baked away.

When I got into the booth however, I found to my surprise that there is more Christianity to be found on the Voting form than on Sunday morning Television.

Out of the 8 parties up for my Electorate, 4 of them were tied to a church in some way. And that was just the House of Reps. The Senate form read like the FBI's Most Wanted Cult list!

2004-10-08T13:57:00.000+10:00

You heard it here first

It's not every day you get entertained by a Police Sting Operation right in your building at work but today is such a day.

Literally 20 mins ago, the pavement outside my office building was covered with Police cars and naught could be heard but their sirens.

I watched from my 18th floor window at the drama unfolding below me and tried to work out what was going on. At First I thought it was a case of someone driving up onto the foot path and knocking over a pedestrian or two but I decided to go down to where the action was a take a better look.

By the time I got down there, the place was really starting to fill up with people not just from my building but from the buildings across the road, tourists that just happened to be walking by and still more police.

Everywhere people were hypothesising about what had happened but luckily I got the chance to speak to some people who were actually down stairs having a quick fag when everything exploded in front of them.

On the 1st floor of my building here is a very dodgy nightclub/restaurant which rumour has it is some sort of front for the Mafia or at least a popular hang out for those kinds of people.

According to the smoking delinquents out the front of the building, the Paddy Wagons screeched to a halt spewing forth a load of cops in full combat gear and weapons who quickly raced inside and straight into the club.

It was not long after that apparently when a two more load bangs were heard. Quite a number of people I saw out the front who were there at the time and a guy who was in his office which sits directly over this seedy club say they heard these bangs as well.

The Police would not explain to us what was going on at the time however I expect we will see some more of this on the News tonight.

No one knows for sure wether they were gun shots or not but if they were it doesn't seem like anyone was hit because there are no Ambulances coming.

This has been House Husband reporting for the House Husband Diaries.

UNDERWORLD UPDATE...

Watching the News tonight revealed that I have been working above a strip club owned, operated and frequented by Sydney's biggest Cocaine dealer for 8 years!

Video of this arvo's proceedings saw a large Sopranoesque figure being lead of out the front foyer of my building and into the back of a Paddy wagon that was sitting directly below my office window.

Who could have know I've working above "Badda Bing" for so long.

2004-10-07T08:19:00.000+10:00

When British Celebrities Attack!

It seems there is something in the Evian Water British Celebs are drinking at the moment.

The past two days have seen both Elton John (Reginald Dwight) and Billy Connolly throwing themselves a screaming tantrum that would make a two year old or even Paris Hilton proud. What's more, news reports indicate that both of them have brought this upon themselves.

Elton started throwing rocks at the paparazzi Hornet's Nest by having a big go at Madonna at a recent Music awards show. Apparently her fake singing is not on but Elton's fake hair is.

Billy has had the balls to poke fun at the plight of a British National currently being held by Muslim militants in the Middle East.

In scenes that bear striking a resemblance to each other, the two stars are shown berating the press about all the negative attention they are getting with the words "FUCK OFF" appearing quite prominently.

In one of his tamer statements, Elton is quoted as saying “Rude vile pigs, do you know what that means? Rude vile pigs. That’s what all of you are.”

Meanwhile Billy Connolly is yet to apologise for remarks made in a recent stand up gig where he wished the people holding British hostage Ken Bigley would "just get on with it".

Billy's only response has been to tell the inquiring press that they can "Fuck Off!"

Connolly is reportedly earning $AUS5.3 million for his currently stand up tour.

2004-10-06T15:20:00.000+10:00

To start blogging again or not...

That is the question...

I am very suprised to see that Google still has this site listed in the coveted Number 1 position for House Husband.

I have even been playing with the idea of a Video Blog.

Let's see if my other writing comitments, my kids and my wife let me get back into it...

2004-04-01T08:42:00.000+10:00

April Fools Day joke?

Today's Sydney Morning Herald has a story on the drivers of Yum Cha trolleys in the big Chinese restaurants in the city will have to wear L plates on the front of their trolleys for 6 months.

According to the Herald, this decision follows a spate of accidents caused by inexperienced trolleys drivers. One such incident involved a trolley full of beef and black bean sauce falling all over some poor bugger because the trolley driver was texting someone on her phone.

"It's either young, inexperienced students who take these jobs or someone just off the boat. In either case, they need to be properly trained." explains Sydney's newly elected council.

"After completing the course, they will be required to carry a small "L" plate on their carts for six months before being granted full licences. Learners can only push a cart while accompanied by fully licensed waiting staff."

Surely this is an April Fool's Day joke??!!

2004-03-26T13:00:00.000+11:00

Afraid of Public Liability?

You have nothing on the Blackburn Local Council in north-west England.

Apparently they have banned people from doing backstroke in their council pool because they are too afraid of people running into each other.

"We would expect that people would be concerned for their own safety as well as that of others and we are being proactive in introducing these rules." said Kate Hollern, an executive on the council.

Keep up the good work Kate.

Blackburn Council - Thinking for you since 1992.

2004-03-22T08:55:00.000+11:00

The end is nigh

Well at least for Reality Television it is.

The first chop of the axe in what will surely be many to follow has come down on reality television with Channel Ten's dropping of The Resort.

Finally realising that there is only a limited audience for this unscripted nonsense, Ten have decided to can the show fronted by John Stevens but will actually continue to run the resort in an effort to recoup the $5million they are still behind by.

Hopefully, this first domino will cause the downfall of the rest of the pack.

2004-03-17T18:53:00.000+11:00

Why is the Blue Tongue Lizard eating Poo Daddy?

This was not one of the questions I had steeled myself for.

Sure I am preparing myself for "Where do babies come from" and "Why do boys have a willy and girls don't?" but I was at a loss to answer this one.

Like many Australian backyards, we have a big fat Blue Tongue Lizard that lounges around and occasionally takes a snail or two from the garden in between sunning itself in the bricks.

As he made his appearance today, I took the boys out to look at him. It was then that I had the bright idea of finding a snail for him to eat so the boys could watch.

After looking around for a while I found one of the bastards hiding under a leaf and placed it about 20cm in front of the Blue Tongue. About 10 seconds later and he was snapping it up hungrily to the delight of all while we eagerly watched on.

We gave it another go and he ate it just as quickly. Seemingly having had enough of our hospitality, he decided to move off back to where ever he moves off to. As he was walking along however he walked past a piece of dog crap that had escaped my usually vigilant anti dog crap routine.

As I looked on in disgusted amazement, he went all out devouring this piece of crap like he was in a German Porno.

My oldest boy puzzled by the Blue Tongue's actions asked;

"Why did the lizard eat the poo Daddy?"

"I don't know son, I don't know"

2004-03-16T08:25:00.000+11:00

Disturbing Find

Yesterday, as I do every 10 weeks I gave blood.

Giving blood in the city is quite a nice experience as they put on a lunch for you afterwards. It still takes a full hour to get through it all but it's still good to do.

The only problem I have with it all is the amount of water you are supposed to drink before hand.

Basically they tell you to drink a lot of water hours before you come so that your veins are nice and fat. Of course as everyone knows, if you drink like a fish, you end up pissing like a racehorse.

Every morning before I give blood sees me spending most of my time in either the kitchen at work throwing the water down or in the dunny getting rid of it all.

It was in going through this ritual yesterday morning that I found something quite disturbing in the dunny at work.

As I urgently walked up to the urinal and went to town, I looked down and saw that there were biscuit crumbs in the urinal!

At first this threw me as food crumbs in the toilet are totally out of context, kind of like seeing Sylvester Stallone accepting an Academy Award.

Then the more I thought about it, the worse it became as it obviously meant that someone was either eating a cookie while taking a wizz or they have a serious medical condition that needs urgent attention.

Will the wonders of the Male Public Toilet never cease?

2004-03-13T10:15:00.000+11:00

Old McDonald had a farm

Ever wanted to know what your kids really think of you?

Today I got it right from the horse's mouth while we sang a rousing rendition of "Old McDonald had a farm".

After we had established that Old McDonald indeed had a cow and a horse and a dog and a pig and a chicken, it was decided that on that farm he also had a Daddy.

The ensuing song went a little something like this.

"Old McDonald had a farm, ee i ee i oh.

And on that farm he had a Daddy, ee i ee i oh.

With a fart fart here and a fart fart there

Here a fart, there a fart, everywhere a fart fart

Old McDonald had a farm ee i ee i oh"

Ok, ok, I get the hint.

2004-03-10T15:00:00.000+11:00

Smile, it's broken

If you're not in the room at the time, there is not much you can do when your kids hurt themselves apart from "kiss it better".

Unbeknownst to most people without kids however, there is a simple trick you can do that will usually turn a normally painful fall or scrape into a fun event.

If ever you are out the back with them whilst they ride their bikes or run around in the yard, a fall, a scrape, a poke or a jab is going to befall at least one of them.

When this happens, the very first thing they are going to do, even before they start to cry, is look up at you for your reaction. The trick comes in suppressing your normal parental reaction to them being hurt (especially so for Mothers).

Instead of rushing over there with kisses and hugs of sympathy and comfort at the ready, you need to put on the happiest, most delighted face you have.

Whilst this may sounds a little sadistic, it actually works. When they look up and see you smiling like Ronald McDonald after a tab of Ecstasy, they will usually forget the fact that their knee hurts and a lot of the time they'll even think it's funny.

So next time your little one falls off their bike, garden wall or roof, just remember to put on a happy face.

N.B. No children were hurt or injured during the writing of this article.

2004-03-08T11:20:00.000+11:00

Are you forced to wear your Wife's panties?

Apparently there are quite a number of people who are forced to wear their Wife's panties or at least there are a lot of you searching for pictures of people who are forced to wear them.

Since I mention children and families a fair bit, I have been loath to put up a post on the weird and wonderful (but mostly weird) Google hits I get here.

I thought today I would make an exception after reading The Spin Starts Here this morning.

I like to think I am a compassionate person. I hate to think that so many people are leaving this site disappointed that they could not find what they were so desperately looking for. Even if they are sitting at their computers in a pair of cotton tails that are desperately stretched at the seems.

So guys, check out today's post from Caz.

Sadly for all you people searching on "Adults who wear nappies" and other sick stuff, you will need to see the Jerry Springer show.

Note to Caz,

Sorry if the horde of silk and nylon clad blokes are now suddenly filling up your referral lists.

2004-02-26T12:11:00.000+11:00

It's now safe to shake my hand

My youngest boy is now using the toilet instead of wearing nappies.

As well as this being a momentous step in his development, there is also a massive benefit to me.

Basically, the number of times my hands will need to descend into a large white bucket filled with human urine, faeces, cloth and bleach are almost zero.

One of the humorous parts of the process however is the enormous fuss you need to make every time they go to the toilet.

Every single wee or poo that drops into the dunny must be celebrated as a glorious triumph. It goes a little something like this;

"Yay you did a poo in the toilet yaaaaay!!!!! Go and tell Mummy that you did a big poo in the toilet!!!!!"

"Mummy I did big poo in toilet! Mummy poo in toilet!!!"

Something else you have to watch out for is when they say they have gone but you can't really tell until you get them off the toilet. This time around I have been able to tell with a fair degree of confidence that a number two has made a splash down.

Every now and then he will say "Daddy I did a poo" and most of the time he hasn't. Sometimes though he will say "Duuuuurrrrrggghhhhdy ... I'm doing a poooooouuurrrrggghh!!!!!!" Coupled with a beetroot red face, I can be pretty sure we have a result.

This all works very well but I have found it to have a bit of an embarrassing side effect.

It seems that he has now taken on the position of Town Crier as far as people going to the toilet is concerned. A careful watch is kept on the toilet and any action going on in there is promptly and very loudly announced to anyone and everyone who happens to be in the house at the time.

"Daddy did a big poo in the toilet!!!!! Heyyyyyy Daddy did a big poo and wee in the toilet!!!!!" is the announcement thundering down the hall for all too hear.

I will admit however that it sometimes does not take a 2 year old's proud announcement for someone to tell that Daddy has just done a big poo in the toilet. My wife wants me to put a "Come back in 5 mins" sign on the door for these occasions.

So if you are planning on coming to my place for dinner in the near future, make sure your comings and goings from the bathroom are covert lest they be heralded to all and sundry.

2004-02-24T13:48:00.000+11:00

Riot Police and Helicopters and Socialists Oh My!

Hands up who had to walk past a bus load of standby riot police, underneath the path of News Helicopters and past a group of brown shirt , spiked hair, nose ring wearing Socialists?

I did this morning. I work in Redfern.

Today is the Funeral of Thomas Hickey who was recently impaled on a fence in Redfern. Whilst many Redfern locals travelled to Walgett for the Funeral, many more stayed to hold a rally outside the Redfern Police Station just two blocks up from where I work.

I walked down to have a look at what was going on and I noticed something strange.

Whilst there were around 200 people there with the vast majority being Aboriginal, there was one other large group of people in attendance who by the look of them were quite obviosly Soccialists. (excuse the broad sweeping generalisation of brown shirt wearing, spikey haired people with no jobs)

I began to wonder what interest did the Socialists have in this issue? Whilst the death of a young man is tragic, what impact did it have on them?

I pushed this to one side as I watched the spectacle of news crews trying to get a good camera angle, the Police nervously looking on from a distance and the signs carried by all that called for a halt to Police Brutality or simply just a picture of Thomas.

I then noticed something else strange. Apart from the fact that they all seemed to be pasted onto 1 side of a carton of Victoria Bitter, they were also all exactly the same. They all seemed to be printed or photo copied from the same soucre. Then when I got closer to one, I saw that every single placard had the web address of the Socialist Alliance at the bottom of it in big letters.

Why would the Socialist Alliance be organising a rally for the death of a teenage Aboriganal?

When I saw these placards decrying Police violence, it made me want to go back the office and make my own placard. I was going to try and find the front page of the Sydney Morning Herald that showed the women being knocked over and having her hand bag stolen outside of Redfern Railway Station. I thought better of it as I doubted I would have made it back alive.

I have been working in Redfern for almost 8 years and I am yet to witness any Police Violence. Many is the time however where I have witnessed violence committed by the Aboriganal population of Redferm both against myself and others. I would concede that I would most likley not see any violence by the Police as they would hardly be doing it in the main street.

I have mentioned a few things about Redfern before in A Tale from Redfern. It is a suburb of contradictions.

At one end of Redfern there can be a rally of 200 protestors angry at the death of a local boy but only 200 metres away, groups of Metrosexuals sip $4 coffees on footpath outside a trendy cafe.

At one end Redfern families and the remnants of families sleep on the ground as they come down from the effects of illicit substances where just 500m away houses sell for close to $2 million.

2004-02-12T20:26:00.000+11:00

House Husband on Holidays

I will be sunning myself on the Gold Coast until Monday 23rd so in the mean time please go and have a look at all the excellent places in my links.

2004-02-09T10:19:00.000+11:00

Compulsory Voting

Reading 85 George St this morning got me thinking once again about the Pro's and Con's of the Compulsory Voting laws we have in this country.

On the Pro side we have a system that forces you to choose someone, which in turn forces an enormous voter turn out the likes of which America and England could only dream about.

The Con side of the argument is "what if I don't want to vote for any of the candidates?"

The Pro Compulsory Voting Camp say that if you don't want to vote for anyone, just do a "Donkey vote". The problem I have with that argument is that if you are happy for them to do that and thereby throw their vote away, why should they be forced to turn up in the first place?

I know the last few times I voted, I have simply had my name crossed off the list and then thrown my voting papers in the bin as I don't believe in being forced to vote.

If you go further than that and do not even turn up to get your name crossed off the list then you will be fined $100. It is however very easy to get out of the fine by simply saying you were interstate or overseas, in a comma etc...

This actually happened to me one year in Local Council elections as I had moved but not registered in the new location. When my old Council held their elections and I did not vote, they sent me a fine which I easily got out of after explaining the situation.

But why should I have had to explain myself in the first place?

2004-02-04T15:52:00.000+11:00

Say it ain't so Humphrey

What do Fat Cat, Humphrey B. Bear and Janet Jackson all have in common.

They have all been kicked off Television for being semi naked.

Yesterday saw the announcement that Humphrey B. Bear is getting the axe after a career spanning nearly 40 years.

Humphrey first hit the screens on Channel 9 Monday 24th May 1965.

I'm sure most of us can remember watching Humphrey caper around when we were young. What most of us think now however is why they hell would we have watched it in the first place?

I assume that only reason we watched it when we were kids was because there was no competition. There was no Hi 5, no Wiggles or their seedy rip offs the Holey Doleys. Just Play School, Romper Room, Fat Cat and Humphrey B. Bear.

You do get a nice feeling when your kids are watching the same show you used to watch when you were there age but when you see it as an adult, you realise that Humphrey does not do that much. In fact he does not even talk. But I suppose if he is going to sound anything like Barney the evil Dinosaur, that might be a good thing.

And so it comes to pass that the last pantsless children's character is cast aside.

Still, getting around on television for 40 years with out any pants on and not having to say anything is a pretty good trot.

I wonder where I could get a gig like that?

Farewell Humphrey B. Bear. You've earned your retirement.

I only hope that you have been saving it wisely so you won't have to resort to appearing in advertorials on Good Morning Australia like Tony Barber.

P.S. In case you ever wanted to know, the B in Humphrey B. Bear stands for Bear.

2004-01-30T11:35:00.000+11:00

Not everyone is a Numb Nut

Even in this age of Bible Bashing Nudists, Pot growing Priests and Foul mouthed Parrots, my faith in humanity still exists.

Standing in line at the supermarket this morning, I was confronted with a 15 min wait no matter which queue I joined.

Having only one item to buy, I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to wait behind every fully laden trolley in front of me. To make this worse, I was buying ice cream.

Then out of the blue, as the lovely lady in front of my finished stacking her groceries on the little conveyer belt, she asked me if I would like to go in front of her since I only had one thing.

We're not doomed yet.

2004-01-28T09:22:00.000+11:00

Who's ready for some Reality TV?

The last week in January consistently brings us a number of things every year.

The most notable of these harbingers of the new year are; a hang over from Australia Day celebrations, the clogging of our public transport system with school kids whose bags seem to grow larger and more difficult to navigate every year and lastly the return of the ratings period on television.

The difference in this year's crop of new programs is a startling similarity in almost every single new show billed to start this February. It would seem that almost every show coming out this year is going to be a "Reality" show.

In fact it seems that there will be more "Reality Television" than you can poke a Neilson ratings box at. Almost as if some sort of script writers union has announced a season long strike.

If my memory serves me correctly, the line up of these cheap, scriptless and actorless programs will include;

Survivor

American Idol

Australian Idol

Big Brother

The Block

The Resort

Paradise Hotel

Popstars

There maybe light at the end of the tunnel however. Whilst this barrage of crap may be a little difficult to swallow for the moment, I would predict that by the time we have endured this attack, Reality TV will have been so flogged to death and have such a bad name that it will be a long, long time before we see anything like them again.

Well we can hope anyway.

2004-01-22T15:02:00.000+11:00

Rubbing it in

I just thought I would rub in the fact that I am sitting at home watching Australian V India at the SCG while everyone else is at work.

Oh and I just got an email from my wife who said she was picking up a carton of beer on her way home from work.

That is all.

2004-01-21T07:50:00.000+11:00

I'm not the only one who sees it!

See I'm not the only one who sees the rampant sexual tension on Bob the Builder between Bob and Wendy.

Today someone reached this site via a Yahoo search query of Bob the Builder +sexual tension +Wendy

2004-01-20T10:23:00.000+11:00

Please not while I'm at work

The following phone conversations are typical of a guy answering his phone at work on a Friday morning.

One caller is his best mate and the other is his wife.

Can you guess which one?

ring ring, ring ring

"Hello.
Oh hi.

Oh not much just trying to get things done before lunch.
Yeah I know I saw it there on the bench but I forgot to pick it up as I was walking out this morning.
I know, I'm sorry. I'll just pick up something small up the shops for lunch.
No I'll probly just get a sandwhich or something small.
Ok well I'll see you tonight.
So do I.
You know I do.... please don't make me say it at work.
Ok ok I'll make it up to you later I promise
Ok I gotta go.
Ok bye

click

ring ring, ring ring

"Hello.
Oh hi mate, yeah good thanks.
Yeah I'm at work.
Yeah I can't get into it either.
I reckon if you don't get into the baggy green before 9:30 your fucked.
Mate they've got no chance of getting that total.
Yeah I was there last night. Got absolutley para. Don't know how I came in this morning."
Yeah it sucks there is no beer wenches any more.
Yeah me and the other guys will be heading up the pub for a big lunch and a few bevs. You want to come?
Ok I'll see ya on Saturday then.
Ok see ya."

click

2004-01-16T11:23:00.000+11:00

The Australian Web Log Awards

This Australia Day (26th Jan for non Australians) will see the voting close for the Australian Web Log Awards.

There are many catagories for which a site can be nominated so please go along to this page and request a voting form.

Good luck to all us nominees

2004-01-12T11:32:00.000+11:00

Control of the remote control

Every night across Australia and indeed most likely across the entire Western World, a silent battle rages on between those that have power and those that have not.

This is not power over the military, the power to write legislation or even the power to enforce it.

It is the control of the television remote. The ability to hold supreme command of the plastic covered infra red device that governs the switching from Doctor Who to the News to the Simpsons or to what ever crap they are playing on SBS.

The control of the remote is also a useful barometer to examine the pecking order that exists inside every household.

For example, in most households it is common that the Father (traditional head of the family) has the remote control, usually to the anguish of the younger members of the family who will typically retire to their rooms rather than sit through another episode of the 7:30 report.

In other situations however the real relationship between couples can be gauged, depending on how they share the control of the remote control.

Lets take the example of an unmarried couple with no kids. After they have finished dinner, they will most likely depart to the lounge room to watch some TV. That is if they were not already sitting on the lounge while eating their dinner.

Usually the person with the most power in the relationship will be the first to pick up the remote and start flicking around. If this is the women (i.e. the guy is seriously pussy whipped) then any thoughts of watching the Australia v India Day/Night match are dashed and the poor guy will have to console himself with highlights from the morning news.

If it is the guy who picks up the "wand of power" then the poor girlfriend better like cricket or have a good book to read 'cause that game is going on until midnight.

Another interesting point to notice when a guy picks up the remote is how he holds it. This is also especially so when he is watching the cricket.

Generally the best seating position for watching cricket on TV is to be slouching back as far as possible with the more lounge real estate taken up the better. This also makes it a lot harder for anyone to depose you from your lofty position of President of the Remote Control and risk missing the 10 seconds of action that sometimes happens during a 5 day cricket match. While positioned for comfort and for the long haul like this, the guy will have his hand gripped around the remote, which will be sitting in his lap.

If you look closely you may find that the way in which the hand is wrapped around the remote and the location it is in, reminds of you of another pastime guys partake of by themselves.

Well at least so I have been told.

2004-01-10T09:36:00.000+11:00

And so it is Easter

And so it is Easter
And what have you done
With Christmas just over
Eggs out on January 1

As has been the tradition for the last couple of years, the large supermarket chains have been trundling out the Easter eggs and other related goodies the day after they take down their Christmas decorations.

The reason behind this is people getting an early start on their Easter shopping.

It is human nature to procrastinate. When you procrastinate over buying your Christmas presents it causes a lot of problems.

After suffering the ordeal of elbowing their way through Christmas Eve crowds, desperately trying to fulfil their gift obligations in the last remaining shopping hours before Santa comes, a lot of people start to think;

"Maybe I should get a head start on my Easter shopping so I don't have to go through that nightmare again in a few months."

So off they go, fulfilling their Easter egg obligations to friends and family with the terror of Christmas shopping still fresh in their minds.

It is true that getting all your egg shopping done in January gives you an overall sense of well being and the thought that maybe this year will be different.

"I'm going to stop putting things off and just get in and get things done." you think. Then you pack your 20kgs of aluminium foil covered chocolate in the cupboard, dust your hands off and think; "All done".

And so it sits there, kilos of chocolate right there in your cupboard. As January passes into February and you finally stop being full from your ridiculously large Christmas dinner, the eggs begin to radiate their chocolaty goodness through out your bedroom or where ever else you have them shacked up.

You now find that you can't walk into that room without inhaling the intoxicating aroma of "Easter Egg chocolate". Still you resist the temptation to eat "just one".

The onset of March brings with it shorter days, cooler nights and an increase in the power of the eggs. The sweet scent of chocolate that wafts through out the house is now a force of immense power. It works itself into your waking thoughts, whispering to you while you sit on the lounge watching TV after dinner;

"Go ahead. Eat just one. It's only the beginning of March, plenty of time to buy another one to replace it"

And so it is that all but those of uncanny strength give in to silent murmurs of the eggs that lay hidden in the cupboard. The problem of course is that once the first cracks appear in the dam wall, once the first egg is unwrapped and eaten that late night watching TV, the consumption of more foil encased goodies will surely follow night after night until one day you look up at the calendar and realise that it will be Easter in a few days and you have eaten all the eggs you bought in January.

So it comes to pass that the end of March/start of April (whenever Easter happens to fall that year) sees you running around the shops elbowing your way through the crowds, desperately trying to find chocolate for everyone who will be doing the very same for you.

It also sees the supermarkets start to think that maybe they should have their Easter Eggs out all year round.

2004-01-06T11:49:00.000+11:00

Were you secretly attracted to Tripitaka?

Born from an egg on a mountain top,
The punkiest Monkey that ever popped,
He knew every magic trick under the sun,
To tease the gods
And everyone can have some fun.
Monkey magic, Monkey magic,
Monkey magic, Monkey magic,
Monkey magic, Monkey magic ooh!

Magic Monkey used to be staple after school viewing back in the day.

Usually on at around 5pm, this Japanese classic would dish out 30 mins of violence and amusing Elnglish overdubbing in heavy Japanese accents.

The story line went that Monkey (King of the Monkeys), Tripitaka (a Buddhist Priest), Pigsy (a Pig Spirit) and Sandy (a water spirit) all travelled from China to India to retrieve some Buddhist scriptures from a temnple there.

The show is universaly known for two things.

The first of these being one of the major contributors to school yard violence and attempted martial arts related injuries. Just ask anyone who has worked in an emergency ward how many kids they have admitted after being hit in the head with 2m sticks like Monkey uses to fight off the evil spirits and monsters in the show.

The Second thing Monkey Magic is known for is the forbidden attraction many of us had for Tripitaka the Buddhist Preist (pictured above in the white and yellow robes)

In the show they never really say wether the charater is a man or a woman and being school kids we weren't to know that there are no female Buddhist Preists. For this reason it was always rather confusing to watch the show and find yourself strangley attracted to this preist while at teh same time trying to figure out if it was a guy or a girl.

Well for all the guys out there who have been holding a secret shame for so many years, I have both GOOD News and BAD News.

The BAD News is that the charater is a guy. As I stated before, there are no female Buddhist Priests.

The GOOD News is that the person who played Tripitaka is actually a women. In fact she was quite a famous actress and model in Japan. Her name is Masako Natsume (Her real name is Masako Odate). Sadly however she died on September 11 1985, aged 27, just over 6 years after finishing work on Monkey.

She is still extremely popular in Japan and her image is still used to this day to sell enourmous amounts of product.

So breathe a sigh of relief all you blokes who for all these years have been fretting that you were attracted to a beautiful guy. It was in fact a beautiful woman.

Now go watch the end of the Cricket.

2004-01-05T13:59:00.000+11:00

The Footy Hill Show

Spending this Christmas at my Wife's parents place had the added benefit of access to Foxtel.

Now whilst I will admit most of the stuff on Foxtel is a load of crap, (usually 30 year old crap at that) there are some interesting things on there from time to time.

This is especially so when contrasted against Free to Air television at Christmas time.

When watching Foxtel I will usually stick to about 4 different channels being Discovery, National Geographic, Music Maxx if they have on something about a band I like and the History/Hitler channel.

The Free to Air side of the coin however would be forcing the choices of A Very Ray Martin Christmas or the age old battle of religion trying to wrestle the attention of children and adults alike away from Santa and Presents.

Sadly I was not in possession of the remote control however so one afternoon saw us watching UKTV as we sheltered in the comfort of air conditioning from the ridiculously hot temperatures outside.

For anyone not familiar with Foxtel's UKTV channel, they basically only have 3 shows. Firstly the Bill, Secondly East Enders and thirdly The Benny Hill Show.

I've seen the Benny Hill Show once or twice before when I was younger but when Benny came on for his first sketch in a dress along with 2 other old guys also dressed in frocks I thought, "What is Fatty Vautin doing on the Benny Hill Show?"

As the show went on the parallels between The Benny Hill Show and Paul "Fatty" Vautin from the Footy Show grew more startling.

For those of you not familiar with the National Rugby League version of the Footy Show, let me draw you a picture.

On one hand we have an hour long show packed full of grown men prancing around in dresses, making funny faces, spouting line after line of sexual innuendo and the occasional glimpse of scantily clad young women.

The other is the Benny Hill Show.

After you draw the connection you can clearly see that little head waggle that Vautin does - Stolen from Benny.
The way that most of the Footy Show sketches have no actual dialogue and instead rely on a series of funny faces, noises of sexually suggestive poses - Stolen from Benny
Paul "Fatty" Vautin's facial features - Stolen from Benny

I suppose it goes to show that whilst we still have footy players regardless of the code, there will always be a market for guys in dresses making jokes about each other's sexual preferences.

If Benny has passed the torch onto Fatty, who shall bear it next?

2003-12-31T12:00:00.000+11:00

The socks and sandals made me do it?

Once again, socks and sandals show themselves to be the source of all evil.

As reported in the Sydney Morning Herald today, a Father and Son team has plotted to kill the girl the son is accused of raping.

If you have a careful look at the TV footage of the Father being led into Parramatta Police Station, you will see that he is indeed wearing socks and sandals.

The Father has been charged with solicitation to murder, carrying a maximum penalty of 25 years and also the charge of mixing wollen socks with open toed leather footwear. The latter charge carrying a maximum penalty of a visit from 5 Gay Americans and a TV crew.

2003-12-24T10:04:00.000+11:00

Christmas Eve Office Bludging

One of the draw backs of being a House Husband is that you don't get to indulge in the annual Christmas Eve Bludging at the office followed by some office cricket and an early exit after a liquid lunch.

Sadly I don't get t leave at lunch time with 4 beers already under the belt unless I want a visit from the Dept of Community Services.

Still, having to be in the office only 2 days per week more than makes up for it.

2003-12-21T11:07:00.000+11:00

Carols by Product Positioning

In Australia every Christmas, there are two major televised Christmas Carol events.

The first one is always Carols in the Domain which is in Sydney. The second is Carols by Candlelight being held in Melbourne on Christmas Eve.

Last night saw the Sydney version go ahead and I'm sure much to the delight of Melbournians, it rained all over every candle holding caroller there.

I have always loved Christmas time and now having kids to share it with makes it even better. I can't wait until they open their presents so "they" can play with them.

I find however that this time of year is an interesting barometer on how much we are influenced by American culture. As tens of thousands of people sat in the rain singing I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, the temperature that day climbed to around thirty degrees Celsius with the previous day hitting highs of thirty four.

Mean while hundreds of thousands of people watching the event from home sat in front of Christmas trees decorated with snowmen, flocked with fake snow and peer out their front windows at the neighbour's Christmas lights set up to represent icicles hanging from the roof or balcony.

Not that there is anything wrong with all that really. It's now a firmly entrenched part of a typical Australian Christmas to celebrate these things. This is similar to the way we sing religious Christmas carols without even thinking of their meaning. Most carols we sing are about the birth of Jesus Christ which is the original and for an ever shrinking minority of people, the main theme of Christmas.

Try this little test on yourself. When you think of Christmas carols, what images come into your head? For most people it will be Santa, Snow and the whole White Christmas story. Very few people would picture anything religious.

After all Christmas is mostly about kids and in the competition between baby Jesus and Santa Claus, who do you think is going to win? In the eyes of a child, Jesus may have died for their sins and guaranteed them a life ever lasting, but what have you done for me lately?

Last night however, Carols in the Domain introduced a forth type of Christmas carol. Instead of sticking to the big three, Jesus, Santa and Snow, Channel Seven brought in the Advertising carol. In fact they brought in an entire segment of them sponsored by Disney. What's worse is that they were not even vaguely disguised or dressed up as anything to do with Christmas. They were simply a whole lot of songs from animated Disney movies that had just been released on DVD.

In between these paid for by Disney "carols", Cameron Daddo and the women from Harry's Practice was doing his best to plug the recently release family movie Cheaper by the Dozen, some other up and coming Channel Seven show or just trying to drop the phrase "Channel Seven" in as much as possible.

I can handle singing about snow in weather that is hot enough to melt the nose off Michael Jackson's face but the Lion King has no place anywhere near a Santa hat.

2003-12-20T12:00:00.000+11:00

The best problem I have ever had

Yesterday I had the day to myself.

No Kids to look after, no Wife to look after, a car offering me total freedom and 34 degrees Celsius of Sunny Sydney Weather.

This circumstance confronted me with two choices. To go and do the weekend's shopping a day early and so avoid what would surely be an enormous battle amongst all those who have left their Christmas Shopping to the last weekend, or go to the beach.

There's no prize for guessing who won.

30 mins later I was slowly cruising the streets of Manly in my car looking for a car space like Hugh Grant down Hollywood Boulevard. Both looking for an empty space we could fill, but the one I found only cost me five dollars an hour.

Like most guys, I really hate paying for it but when you can't get anything else, you just have to.

Walking up the Corso and arriving at the beach was like something out of the Twilight Zone combined with one of those American T & A movies. It seemed to me as I walked across the sand that I was the only one there over twenty.

It was the first day of Christmas School Holidays and the very hot weather had seemingly attracted every High School kid in Sydney to Manly beach.

What's more, it looked as though they were having a competition to see who could wear the least amount of material on their body without exposing anything that under normal circumstances would only been seen when showering or in a strangers bedroom at a drunken end of year party.

As I looked for a spot to put my things down, I found that I was forced to choose to sit next to either a group of five barley clad school girls or a group of six barley clad school girls. All the guys had taken the high ground so as to gain a better position from which to leer.

This then became my worry. I was the only person on the entire beach over twenty years old (presumably because everyone post twenty was at work) and the beach was so overly crowded that I could not turn my head any whcih way, that did not have me looking directly at the scantily clothed body of a seventeen year old girl.

While I suppose if you could choose which problems you were faced with in life, this would be right up there with being forced to choose between a red or black Ferrari. My worry was however that I might look like some dirty old bloke leering at all the young girls as they paraded around in front of all the guys they were there with.

My solution to this was to hit the water. This as it turned out was not much better as the space between the flags was quite small due to the rough surf. This crowed everyone in so much so that it was getting difficult to move around in the ocean without knocking into anyone.

This being the case I made my way out past the breakers where I found a lot of other guys all facing back towards the beach instead of facing the ocean as is customary at the beach. As the next set of big rollers came in I saw why they were facing the way they were.

A combination of big waves breaking in shallow water, a general lack of surf skills in the girls and their close proximity to each other meant that they could not duck under most of the waves. This meant, as most girls who go to the beach will tell you, if you decide to go up over a big wave, your bikini top will decide to go down. Hence the row of guys all facing the beach.

So after spending about 2 hours in the water I decided to go home.

Got to the car, paid for my parking and drove home where once again, my problems were deciding wether to put a load of dark washing on first or the light coloured washing.

2003-12-17T09:07:00.000+11:00

Having problems keeping your prison wife happy?

Have you ever been in the embarrassing situation where your crew has the new guy stripped and held down in his cell but you could not perform because of all the smuggled in steroids you took the day before?

Don't worry, the Danish Prison System has you covered.

It seems that for some time now, it has been the practice of the Danish Prison Bosses to hand out Viagra free of charge to inmates who needed it.

In a blow to the erectile challenged of the prison population however, their Justice Minister Lene Espersen has put a stop to it.

Lene the party pooper says;

"If inmates want Viagra to be administered to them by the prison doctor they must pay for it themselves like every other citizen on the outside."

Apparently it is most used by Motorcycle Gangs Members because all the steroids they use have made them impotent.

2003-12-12T11:28:00.000+11:00

Childbirth from the Father's perspective Part II

Going through 9 months of pregnancy is sometimes very stressful on the Mother however it can also be very taxing on the Father to be.

Your role during those 40 weeks will go from the heady heights of Stud Pony Extraordinaire, to take on the job of Nurse, Cook, Cleaner and general support giver.

Then comes the big day. For some, it will arrive quite suddenly with the sudden "breaking of water" and the onset of contractions in the most unlikely place (I know someone who had this happen to them at the movies). Others will have to endure many drawn out days of false contractions, real contractions that start and then stop again together with many fruitless trips to the hospital only to be told that the best thing is to go home and come back when they are 5 mins apart.

The first time you both have to go through this is usually the hardest as you won't know if the contractions are real, fake or just a result of a dodgy vindaloo from the night before.

This is especially true for the father as he can't feel anything except for the bruises in his hand if he has been unfortunate enough be holding the mother's hand while she has a contraction.

Merely witnessing the effects of these painful spasms having no real idea of what they are like, is the beginning of what will be a day full of fear, excitement, embarrassment and sheer joy.

So you've both spent the day sitting on the lounge with a stopwatch counting the minutes between contractions and finally the duration drops to five minutes. Time to waddle her into the car and get down to the hospital.

With a bit of luck you will be placed straight into delivery suite and so begins the final phase of the journey along with more than a few shocks for the Father.

It starts with the mother disrobing and putting on one of the good ol' hospital gowns that shows your ass when ever you walk anywhere. What happens next however will make you forget about your wifeâ€™s exposed bum quicker than Shane Warne can SMS a text message to a bar maid.

In will come the Mid Wife, up will go your wife's hospital gown followed quickly by the dreadful snap of latex gloves, a quick squirt of KY and the disappearance of two of the Mid Wife's fingers.

When you witness this for the first time, your chin may suffer some bruising after it hits the floor but let me tell you mate, you better get used to it pretty quickly as your little darling of a wife is going to have more men and women poking, prodding, inserting and viewing the business end in one day than you could possibly imagine.

The rest of the will day will pretty much proceed like a one day cricket match. About ten hours of boredom accentuated by the occasional excitement with the last 45 mins making all the difference.

These last 45 mins (sometimes it's actually hours and hours) will be some of the scariest you will ever experience. Concern for your wife and your unborn baby will consume you totally as you witness the intense pain she goes through and listen to the medical jargon being thrown around by everyone present.

Then you will see it. A natural birth will deliver the father a special gift. The privilege of being the first person to see your child. When you first see their little head is when it all starts to get really exciting (although to the mother it does not feel so little at the time). It is also the time when it can get very scary as it is the point in which the baby is under the most stress and the calls of the medical personal can be very worrying.

In my case it was especially worrying as both our boys experienced very rapid heart rates in this phase and both required resuscitation when they came out with the second actually having the cord wrapped around his little neck. Instead of a little pink thing screaming and wriggling I saw a purple barely moving body. My wife was not able to see it all having just given birth to a ten pound boy and the placenta still to come out but I watched on helpless as doctors and nurses rushed into the room with all sorts of devices and instruments in an attempt to breath life into him.

After a minute or two he started breathing and let out the most beautiful sound a parent can ever hear. His first cry. They brought him over to my wife and everything was fine.

For anyone who has not witnessed a birth in person, I will give you one word. Messy. It may seem strange but your average guy has seen what lay between a womenâ€™s legs many more times than a women and therefore has a certain picture of what things usually look like. This may change for you when you witness that object fulfilling its true purpose. Itâ€™s a stark contrast from the image you may hold of your wife or from that perfectly trimmed picture of a porn star that someone has sent around the office at work (or so my friends tell me).

After it's all over you will look upon your wife with a new respect but what about sex in the future? You may have trouble getting that image out of your mind and possibly even worry about it affecting your ability to perform. Rest assured that the 6 weeks or longer that you have to wait will more than take care of that.

2003-12-10T11:09:00.000+11:00

Sex and violence in children's TV? You better believe it!

I have mentioned before the push in England to ban Thomas the Tank Engine because of the supposedly traumatising effect it is having on children everywhere.

While of course it is a load of bull that it is traumatising children, if you actually sit down and watch the show with your kids, you will soon see that it is one of the most violent shows on TV.

I know it sounds ridiculous but in reality there are but a few episodes of Thomas the Tank Engine that do not contain the most spectacular train crashes, car crashes, truck crashes, trains crashing into cars and trucks, collapsed cranes and even decapitation inducing helicopter accidents.

For example, last Wednesday saw an episode where a "troublesome truck" maliciously pushed one of the Tank Engines off the side of a cliff to what would have been his certain doom had he been a real living thing.

Thundering to the bottom of the cliff the engine finally slammed into the ground with parts, dirt and debris flying everywhere. Luckily because he is a train and not a person or any other animal he was able to be hauled back up, taken back to the train yards to be repaired and checked over by the Fat Controller.

After being repaired, polished and given the all clear from the Fat Controller, he started to plan his revenge on the "troublesome truck" that pushed him off the cliff.

He made sure that the truck that pushed him off the cliff was right behind him. He then started to leave the station before the truck was ready so it put its breaks on. The engine then went even harder purposely trying to hurt the truck until finally he literally tore the "troublesome truck" in two as if it were drawn and quartered!

Whilst this may look a little worrying to adults, to kids it is great because they do not associate the same sorts of things with these actions as we do. They do not understand what death is and because a lot of the time they are over protected, they don't really grasp the concept of being servery injured.

This is the reason why the are not permanently traumatised by watching. They are able to seperate the show from reality. In fact without the images of rail cars full of passengers being flung down cliffs or "troublesome trucks" causing other major incidents and derailments, it is just a couple of boring model trains going around a track.

3:25pm may supply a quick 4 min fix of TV violence but wait another 35 mins and you will view sexual tension between two leading characters that would rival Mulder and Scully on the X-Files.

Usually Bob the Builder and his business partner Wendy are a model for a reversal of the stereotypical roles portrayed by men and women on television. Wendy is not afraid to get the work belt on and go thrashing around the country side dangerously leaning out the side of one of their rather animated work vehicles.

For the past few week however they have been giving off subtle clues that they might be interested in taking their currently plutonic relationship to the next level.

One recent episode saw Bob enter a dancing competition with another women. Wendy was very hurt that Bob did not ask her and began to mope around the house trying to work out why Bob did not like her. Then the woman Bob was to take had to pull out so Wendy quickly volunteered to take her place.

They ended up winning the competition of course and Bob offered to walk Wendy home. They got to her front door and it could have been a scene from any first date. The awkward silence, not knowing what to do or say, should they kiss, what would that mean if they did? It was all happening.

Eventually Bob left with no good night kiss. Wendy longingly watched him walk away and the show ended with them falling asleep thinking of each other.

This may sound like I am over exaggerating or reading things into it through an adults eyes. Yes there may be a bit of that but I assure you there is something going on between Bob and Wendy.

My wife thinks that their might be something going on between the writers and they are using the show as a metaphor.

2003-12-09T12:51:00.000+11:00

Too lazy to look after you kids at the shops? Why not put them on a dog lead?

Who else cringes when they see some one down the shops with their child on a dog lead?

Every now and then it is possible to see a parent walking along at the shops with a little boy or girl strapped up in a harness that looks exactly the same as the one I use to take my dog for a walk in.

The poor child trustingly toddles along oblivious to the totally ridiculous and demeaning situation they are in with the lazy ass either equally oblivious or uncaring.
Could anybody really say that when they see this picture, they do not cringe?

People use the argument that it makes going to the shops a lot easier when they are able to lead their child around like a dog at the park. To them I say it would be even easier if you just cut their legs off and push them around in a little cart instead.

These people obviously have no idea how they look to normal people when they go out in public like this. If anyone who uses these things reads this and wants to get an idea of what they loook like to other people, go and watch an episode of Jerry Springer.

When they wheel out the Trailer Freaks and you think "oh my god look at them!" you will have an idea.

2003-12-06T12:47:00.000+11:00

Down with web site pop ups

It seems more and more that we are experiencing an increasing prevalence of web site pop ups.

These are those annoying little extra windows that pop up when you go to some sites.

Previously these abominations were only used in porn sites, often opening up when you entered or exited them (at least that's what a friend told me any way). Exiting those windows would then trigger another pop up window to fire and so it would go on.

Sadly we are now seeing these evil things being used by main stream sites like The Sydney Morning Herald's web site www.smh.com.au and CNN's site www.cnn.com.

Recently I wrote to The Sydney Morning Herald to complain about their decent into using the same hit generating tactics as the sleazy porn site operators.

This is their reply;

From: "SMH Online"
Reply-To: smhonline@access.fairfax.com.au
Subject: RE: SMH Site Feedback
Date: Fri, 5 Dec 2003 16:06:18 +1100

hi actually, they're capped to one per user session. if you go to any US site, they're all over the place. by any standard our pop-ups are modest, we believe. as a measure, we've only had about half a dozen complaints about these over the past few months. as a comparison, if we muck up the crosswords, we can get over 20 emails in a day. regards smh online

It seems that they are basically taking the line that everyone else is doing it so why shouldn't I?

This reasoning is always a bad mistake. Its use can been seen in examples such as the occupation of Europe by Nazi Germany, the temporary popularity of Pauline Hanson's One Nation Party or the disturbing trend of people wearing short sleeve shirts over the top of long sleeves.

Now whilst I would never insinuate that The Sydney Morning Herald supports Nazism or One Nation, I would suggest that doing something wrong (web pop ups are no different than the scourge of spam email) just because everyone else is doing it, does not absolve you of your guilt.

2003-12-04T08:38:00.000+11:00

It has come Full Circle

The other day I realised that the role reversal my wife and I have been undergoing this year is complete.

It used to be that I was the main Bread Winner, working the 8 to 5 shifts in the office, coming home to sometimes do some more from home.

Now I stay at home to wash, clean, bake, sort, dry, scrub and cook while my wife goes off to the coal mines for 9 hours a day.

It was not until the other night however that we realised the transformation was complete.

It came about with my wife sitting at the computer finishing off something for work. I walked out of the kitchen with a tea towel over my shoulder and began to complain that I had broken a nail.

Suddenly it dawned on me that the we had come full circle and to tell you the truth I could not be happier.

2003-12-03T08:49:00.000+11:00

Pay Day for House Husbands

Truly tomorrow is Pay Day for House Husbands all over Australia.

Being at home for the first Cricket Test of the summer shall make all the washing, cleaning, soaking, scrubbing human faeces and off my hands and bleaching bathrooms all worth while.

I suppose fact that I get to spend time with my kids instead of being in the office is ok too.

While every other bloke (and the very small minority of women who like cricket) will have to be hiding from their boss that they are watching the delayed coverage of www.baggygreen.com.au from their office workstation, I and House Husbands all over Australia will be watching the match live on television.

Certainly Test Cricket is the perfect accompaniment to staying at home and doing house work. I can watch the first half an hour or so and then tottle off to put some washing on, change someone's nappy, change some bed sheets, stack the dishwasher and check back to see that the only change is 20 extra runs and the accidental humour of Ritchie Beneau and Ian Chappell now occupies the commentary chair.

Bring on the keys in the pitch, bring on Tony Griegg giving Bill Lawry crap about his pigeon fetish and bring on a game where 16 guys stand around in a field for 5 days and still don't get a result.

2003-11-28T08:43:00.000+11:00

Global Warming my ass

Can someone tell me when the so called "Global Warming" bogey man is going to take form to come and devour us all like so many Nimbin residents would have us believe?

This summer brings another Sydney Summer and usually by this time, the electric fans of houses in every suburb should have already been running for many hours, yet for the past 3 days I have had our Gas Heater on and sometimes even the electric blanket.

How can the Hippies complain so loudly about Greenhouse gas emissions when their diets of Tofu and Lentils contribute so much to it?

Global warming where are you when I need you?

2003-11-27T09:55:00.000+11:00

Guns for Kids

Yesterday was my youngest son's 2nd Birthday.

We had a quiet day around the house, just me and the boys, but then without realising it, I found that I had given my youngest boy his first lesson in how to use a gun. Of course it was only a water pistol but the fact remains it is based on something who's sole design purpose is to kill another person.

Am I taking this a bit to far? Of course, it's just a water pistol that could not hurt a fly. I doubt the experience will see him embarking on a murderous rampage through the halls of his High School. Even so, I am now left with the memory of teaching my son to aim his gun at his brother and pull the trigger.

2003-11-25T09:33:00.000+11:00

Accessing your Employee's email is wrong

I've said it before and I'll say it again, It is wrong for a Manager, Supervisor or the even CEO of a company to view anyone's email but their own.

The big problem however is that it is very legal for them to do it when ever, how ever and for what ever reason they like.

Right this second there will be thousands of employees around Australia who's email is currently being viewed with out their knowledge.

You may not know this but you are not the only one who has access to your mailbox at work. Anyone who has System Administrator privileges on your network will have the ability to access, view, delete or even scarier respond to your email without your knowledge. They also have the ability to grant other people access to your mailbox.

How do I know this? I'm a System Administrator myself.

In my role as a System Administrator I will receive multiple requests per week for Managers to access their employee's mailboxes and almost without exception, this access is to be granted without the employee knowing anything about it.

Every time I am forced to do this it sickens me as I see it as a violation of the trust those people put in me to protect their privacy.

There are policies that cover this sort of thing on both my client's side and my side that usually say something along the lines of no one shall have access to anyone else's mailbox unless under direct authority of the CEO or other authority of the company. The still fact remains that if that CEO or other authority so wishes, they can view anyone's email on a whim and read anything they like.

The justification for this is that the company owns the email system and therefore can look at what ever they like. To this I say, does not the company also own the phone system? Imagine the outcry if it were discovered that Managers were tapping their employee's phones and listening to everything they said. How is this different from email?

What can you do about it?

Not much let me tell you. There is one thing that may tip you off to the fact that someone has been accessing your mailbox however.

If someone is reading your email and opens one that you have not yet read yourself, it will be displayed as read when you go in to check your mail. So if you see one that it read but you know you did not read it, then something might be up.

Secondly, you could try asking your System Administrator. I know I would love to advise someone when I have given someone else access to their mailbox but it is too risky for me to do that. Obviously I can’t let them know via email and the phone is risky as someone may over hear it.

The third way you can protect your email privacy is to only use your work email for work email. Set yourself up a Hotmail account. Even your System Administrator can't get into that one and no one but you will be able to read it. The only draw back with this is that you will have to be continually going to www.hotmail.com from your computer and since ALL your web surfing is also logged, your Manager may have issue with you spending so much time on the internet. Some companies will even make it impossible for people to get to the hotmail web site.

Another great way to protect your privacy is to get an Instant Messenger program like MSN or ICQ. I would recommend ICQ as you do not have to install anything on your computer, just run the web version and you don't have to worry about firewalls etc... If you go to http://go.icq.com you can set up an ICQ account and start messaging anyone else who has it. The great thing about Instant messengers is that they do not keep a copy of the messages anywhere so no one can view what you have written. The fact that you are st the web site http://go.icq.com will be logged but none of your messages will be.

If you have any questions on how you can protect your privacy at work just drop me a line.

2003-11-21T09:37:00.000+11:00

Reunion Wrap up

My 10 year High School reunion was really an excellent time.

I would totally suggest to anyone thinking of not turning up to theirs to think again.

Being in the room with everyone was a bit surreal. It was as if I had gone back in time and was back in the school yard except from one thing. When you talked to people you started to notice the little lines appearing around the eyes, the first hints of grey hairs and for some unlucky buggers the beginings of hair loss.

I spent the entire night thinking how cool it was to see everyone again and the entire next day wondering how many beers I must have had to make me so damn sick.

As I was telling people the next day, the one really weird thing about the night was I don't know if I slept at all that night. I can remember being in bed and feeling sick, tossing and turning desperatley searching for a comfortable position, but I can't remember waking up.

Still, now I can't wait for the 20th.

Also for anyone who is interested, I made my National Radio Debut this past Monday 17th Nov. I appeared on Sydney's 2SER with a feature article in their Discovery program.

If you would like to hear me go to this link and then click on the show for 17th Nov. My piece is on why TV ads seem so loud.

2003-11-13T16:00:00.000+11:00

Another step towards the cardigan store

This Saturday sees me take one more step towards the cardigan store.

I will be attending my 10 year High School Reunion.

"Oh you poor diddums. I just came from my 30th School Reunion!" I hear you say.

Whilst that might be a valid statement, you must remember that no one really wants to turn 30. Then after you are 35 you long for the days when you were 30 and christ 40 is just around the corner.

So it goes on until you get past 80 and you start thinking "Christ I really want to reach 85."

2003-11-12T09:37:00.000+11:00

Socks and Sandals don't mix

I have mentioned before the disturbing winter trend of women's fashion that is the Ug Boot.

Let us now expose the equally disturbing tendency of men to wear socks and sandals.

There are many things in this world that naturally do not go together. Oil and water, SBS and ratings, alcohol and driving, Jews and Palestinians, The Footy Show and a script writer not attending high school, Cronulla Sharks and the NRL Premiership and finally socks and sandals.

Now some may argue that it is every consenting adult's right to wear what ever they like. In deed once you turn 18 you can drink a beer, vote for the Greens, get a tattoo and other such silly things that you will regret later. By law you can't do these when you are a minor without the ability to make a proper judgement.

Another aspect of being a minor is that your clothes are often chosen for you. Especially when you are very young. In fact it is the very young that I am becoming concerned about with the alarming prevalence in ridiculous male footwear.

It used to be that the only blokes who would wear socks and sandals were over 60. That was in the days before the emergence of the trendy new beach sandals that has now become part of the unofficial uniform of the British Backpacker.

Since then we have seen that every day types of blokes will now happily get around in a pair of black sandals on a warm day. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

The problem lies in that some of these people are parents and that they are dressing their kids in socially unacceptable ways. If we were to see a 4 year old girl walking through a shopping centre in something that looked like it belongs in Cher's costume collection, there would be an outcry. So should there be when toddlers are forced to wear socks and sandals by parents oblivious to the long term effects they are having on their children.

So when you are dressing your kids in the morning ready to go out in public for the day, there are two little letters that mean so much to your childrens future. OR.

It is socks OR sandals not socks AND sandals.

Never before has something so little, meant something so much, to someone so young.