mykrocosm

So who remembers the periodic table? I had my own little ditty… oddly enough, I still remember it after more than 15 years…

Happy HEads LIke BEing Bounced Crazily Nonstop Over Fat NEon NAils

Toda ywe all got together for a group bugfixing sessiobn int he conference room we called it Operation Defect Storm. I fiixed many bugs snd so did the others. Teh day flew by.  I had about eight glases of coke, six pieces of pizza and one and a hlaf bags of lolliyes. This is asp conserviatiove estimate.

I think I mau have had a bit too mcuh sugar.

A worldwide survey was conducted by the UN. The only question asked was: “Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?”.

The survey was a huge failure.

In Africa they didn’t know what “food” meant.
In Eastern Europe they didn’t know what “honest” meant.
In Western Europe they didn’t know what “shortage” meant.
In China they didn’t know what “opinion” meant.
In the Middle East they didn’t know what “solution” meant.
In South America they didn’t know what “please” meant.
And in the USA they didn’t know what “the rest of the world” meant.

One of our favourite pastimes at work is to pay out the much maligned MIS department - the techicians and administrators who run our computer network. But geez, I have to spare a thought for the poor employees over at the Adelaide City Council.

A person who works there happens to have ‘cock’ in his surname. Every time I reply to an email of his, his own name is repeated in the quoted text, and their adult content filter blocks it. And what’s worse, they don’t send a rejection email back to the sender, they just let HIM know that an incoming email was blocked. So he has to contact the original sender again and ask them to remove any incidence of his name from the email and resend it again.

So lame. There are so many ways you could improve this :

• return an automatic response to the sender, so they know they have to try again
• star (*****) out the offending text then allow it to pass through
• add the full surname to the white list of allowed words
• heck, remove ‘cock’ from the black list. It’s not exactly a rare sequence of letters.

I mean, cock-eyed cocker spaniels mixing cockroach cocktails in the cockpit while cocky peacocks play shuttlecock with cockney cockatoos, would all put a stopcock in this half-cocked poppycock of a system.

You’ve got to wonder what kind of morons work in the IT Department at the Adelaide City Council.

So did you wave to Anousheh Ansari as she zoomed overhead last night?

I got the tip off on the Soyuz rocket from the 6 o’clock news and later while turning the chicken kebabs on the barbie, I suggested the others look up into the north-east quadrant at 7:21pm. We didn’t see anything, but then Anni went out to the car to get something and in a great stroke of luck she actually saw the rocket separate from its fuel booster! It was more to the north - we wouldn’t have seen it. We all ran out front onto the street and watched as the rocket with its bright orange flare and the trailing booster passed right overhead in a grand, glorious majestic arc until it eventually disappeared in the south.

Awesome.

I’m flying around the great outdoors and I spot a huge mass of people marching through an enormous field. I zoom ahead of them and come across two old ladies wandering in the corn. They’re going to get trampled underfoot. I try to convince them to move before they’re mown down. They’re saying something I can’t understand. I ask them to repeat it… again and again and again … focusing in desperation on their frail, wrinkled lips. Through the waving golden stalks I can see heads coming nearer, just metres away. Finally the old ladies move, walking slowly to the side, safe, just as the oncoming crowd strides through like a herd of buffalo. The dream ends. I lie there puzzling it through my head over and over… what were they trying to tell me?

We went for an evening walk down around Darlington, the valley just north of Flagstaff Hill Road. We came across a giant square man-made dam, with plastic/rubber sides going in at 45 degrees. The dog with us is particularly obsessed with ducks and she dove right in there. Of course she couldn’t get out again, and started scrabbling at the sides like mad. The three of us had to form a comical human chain to drag her out, then we nearly ended up in the dam ourselves! Meanwhile Milo is shaking herself dry and wondering what on earth we’re doing.

Amidst all the hilarity, I had a sobering thought - I wonder how many dogs, or even people, have drowned after being unable to get out of a body of water like that.

Google Link to Dam

Our meet-the-neighbours sausage sizzle went really well. It was a lovely warm day, there was a bit of a breeze coming across the back deck, twenty people all chatting to each other, and kids running around on the lawn below with water pistols and frisbees.

We’d booked a Tupperware party later in the same afternoon for a bit of fun, so that the ladies could wander inside if they were interested - meanwhile the lads and I would stay outside for another beer or two. But as soon as that time came around, all the neighbours went whoosh seeyalater! Only the separate guests coming for the party remained. I think we misconveyed the whole setup. Still, it’s probably better to keep that first bbq short and sweet anyway, and we met so many really, really nice people.

Tips for Tupperware Party Hosts #23
When your partner has a few beers and writes on his stomach ‘TUMMYWARE’ with a couple of arrows pointing to his belly button, and then proceeds to flash the assembled guests offering his special deals, that is the correct time to deftly place the order form under his hand for a signature.

I’m told we racked up over a grand in orders. Some of that was ours. And our pantry gets stuffed with $250 worth of free stuff IF we book one more party date. So now I’m a Tupperware husband. I can see Duncan pissing his pants from here. You wanna host a party? email me on tupperwarepartyshill@REMOVETHIScarr.id.au.

We had a table of 11 at Red Ochre for a 30th. It’s a double story building all on its own overhanging the northern bank of the Torrens in the heart of the city, far enough from the dazzling lights to create its own romantic, idyllic atmosphere. Flowing water feature by the front door and a small cocktail/waiting bar lets you know what you’re in for. A glitzy, shattered glass effect lets you play Hall of Mirrors as you ascend the spiral staircase to the upper floor. And our table there in a corner, with one vaguely Australian painting to remind you of the restaurant’s culinary theme.

Lindsay Lohan must have gotten sick of LA and decided to come to Adelaide to work as a waiter in an native food restaurant. She said her name was Jess, but I knew better! She was almost back to her cute Mean Girls look. She made for a bright and friendly waitress too.

While you’re still taking in the noisy ambience the menu draws you in, full of delectable emus, wallabies and crocodiles. Then you notice they’ve all been pounded, flattened and made into pies or fish cakes. Only the staple fare - fish, beef, kangaroo - seem to be presented relatively whole.

Half the table started off drinks with the good old orange juice. Trouble was, the orange juice was about two oranges short of a fruit drink. It was water with food colouring. It was the juice Bilo rejected. It should have been called “I Can’t Believe Its Orange Juice”. It was universally crap, right across the table.

The rest of us decided to start off with some wine. Leasingham Bastion Cab Sav. Goodness, that was so bad we thought at first it was corked. A Stonehaven Chardonnay that was little better. A brut and a sparkling red were a bit more palatable, but it was too late by then - we were all rolling in laughter. We were making jokes about Lindsay Lohan and bad alcohol. We were having competitions to see who had the worst tasting drink. They were absolutely disgusting.

Their forte is food, and it clearly shows. The quail entree was superb and neatly presented, though whether intended or not, the pate did look like a fresh kangaroo turd. I also noticed that they serve oysters only by the 10 - that’s a bit odd but it’s a neat way to prevent you opting for a sixpack, while still charging “dozen” prices.

The aged beef was nicely seasoned and true to their promise it was seasoned in new and unusual bush flavours. And it actually arrived medium rare which is well, medium-rare. As with all the mains, the menu tempted us with delicious descriptions of vegetables, roasted in this and grilled in that - then it finally arrives and you get three tiny asparagus heads, three shrivelled up pieces of capsicum, and a small, pounded, flattened potato cake. Get a side salad or your mum will be cross.

Did I mention it was noisy? And that half the “beautiful river view” was blocked by a bunch of straggly trees? Though you could look over across the heads of the other noisy terrible-wine-drinking diners at a rather impressive fountain in the river, scattering across the water the reflections of the familiar lights and shapes of the city.

The desserts were superb, and virtually saved the day. When in doubt, spread chocolate everywhere, and it certainly worked here. The spring roll pastries oozing melted dark chocolate were a good size and a nice accompaniment to the coffee - and much cheaper than the other desserts, which lets face it, is just more chocolate, more artistically arranged. All of it looked fantastic though.

Their system lets you make payments with different credit cards - you’d hope so, since the nearest ATM is a pretty long walk. All in all, a rather entertaining meal for around $60, thanks to the company at the table more than anything else. For the Red Ochre, I have just one parting piece of advice.

Sack the freaking sommelier already!!

Caught up with a mate at the Belgian Beer Cafe tonight while our better halves were both interstate for work. It’s been more than half a year since I was there last, so I had to renew my acquaintance with the Gulden Draak. Still love it! Despite all the Coopers Pale I’ve consumed between then and now, we welcomed each other like old friends. The cone of well-seasoned fries was the perfect accompaniment.

Then on the old shanks’ pony down to Ballroom to shoot a few frames of pool - place was rather dull and lifeless. The only other people there seemed to know the owner. They have wall posters and a pushy barman offering a weekday drink card which brings you a small discount if you consume 7 drinks in total on the SAME night. They’ll have to change that a bit if they want to attract the after-work crowd.

Great fun though, pool - haven’t played on a proper table in a long time.