bitchin' & moanin'

Standby For General Whinge-Fest...
This is basically how I'm feeling at the moment, dear readers. I don't really know why. Perhaps it's the lack of nicotine coursing through my veins (I am being very good!) or the fact that I haven't eaten a proper nutritious meal in days. But mostly I just seem to be in this mood where every little thing makes me crabby. *ennui munkey* I shouldn't really complain. All that grandma wisdom about "things could be worse" and "there's always someone more unfortunate" is true, of course; I'm not feeling sorry for myself. There is just a dull, far-reaching sense of dissatisfaction and a vaguely distasteful stench looming over the world in general...

Everyone Hated The Commonwealth Games Opening Ceremony
I don't know why this slightly depresses me, because five minutes before the thing started I couldn't have cared less how it turned out. Some people seem to just be doing the "I'm cynical and jaded because it's cool" thing, whereas others (like Jellyfish, predictably) make very good - and entertaining - points. I thought the show was okay. Technically it was all really well done - I thought the stage, set-pieces, lighting etc were wonderful. Thematically, it seems the creative committee (or whoever comes up with this stuff) needed a few more sessions. There were some nice ideas, but overall, it didn't seem to gel. As has been noted elsewhere, it stole ideas from Sydney, and the "journey" narrative wasn't really pursued in any satisfying way. And yes, the broadcast/commentary was deeply offensive. But frankly anyone who was expecting different from Channel 9 was deluding themselves. HOWEVER the fishy things on the Yarra looked great and the fireworks were fucking awesome, I don't care what anyone says. I could hear them (and feel the vibrations) from my flat and I got all excited like a little kid. Anyway it makes me sad and grumpy that everyone's complaining about the duck and the koalas (although they were decidedly "wtf!?"). I guess I was hoping to feel proud of my home-city, and hear everyone around the world say "Oh My God! Melbourne Is The Best!" and now they aren't.

The Gun Is Smoking, And No-One Seems To Care
You would be forgiven for not realising - as the papers are far more interested in Gold! Gold! Gold! - but it seems DFAT now absolutely positively knew about the AWB bribery a good 8 years ago. I'm not going to say too much about it all, because this is more the territory of my beloved Moodles (aka Canoe) but basically it's reaching a point where our Government can no longer have their cake and eat it too. EITHER they knew the bribery was going on and thus are evil fucking liars, OR they were being oblivious-ostriches and thus are dithering fucking incompetents. So which is it, lads? A public admission of either would be lovely... although the voting public seem to have such short memries and/or low morals that I'm sure this will all be forgotten and/or forgiven by the time the next election rolls around. (Incidentally, I've never understood that cake/eating saying... what's the point of having cake if you're not going to eat it?)

My Snazzles Is Sad, And I Can't Help
Not the forum to be discussing this, but suffice to say I would cut off one of my fingers and (up to) three of my toes if I thought it would make it all better.

Oli Got A Puncture, And Requires Expensive Surgery
After a lovely evening at the House-Of-Much-Joy earlier in the week, I began driving home and thought "Whatever is that noise? Why won't my car steer properly?" I had a puncture. Oli's tyre was so flat that the rim was running along the asphalt. I opened up my boot. Jack: check. Spare tyre: check. Doohickey to remove the bolts from the wheel... errrrm... Fuck. Fuckity Fuck Fuck. Snazzles valiantly tramped out into the dark to help, but she had a tyre-thingy for mag-wheels (damn her funky purple automobile and it's butch wheels) that wouldn't fit Oli's girly nuts. I valiantly tramped to the local servo to purchase a tyre-thingy, but they didn't have one (What the fuck kind of servo is that? "Convenience" store, my arse!). So we had yet another visit from the RACV man. Now I have no spare tyre, and since all Oli's tyres are bald as badgers, it probably isn't worth repairing or replacing just one. ALSO the clunking-rattling-vibrating in his front wheel gets worse by the day... AND his rego is due this month. Oh Oli, I love you, but why do you eat my money so?

I Am As Broke As All Fuck
I am literally scraping together my last few dollars and cents to survive until next payday. (Wednesday! Hurry up, sweet precious Wednesday!) All I can do is pray that my vehicle doesn't collapse into a steaming pile of scrap metal - or any other unforseen expensive disasters befall me - before then. In the meantime, if any of my admirers out there in blog-land would care to make a donation to the MindlessMunkey Recreation & Entertainment Fund, please free to send me your credit-card details.
N.B.: Not a real charity. Donations are not Tax Deductable.

A Few Other Things
...that can't and/or shouldn't be put into words.

~~~~~~~

I am running away to the Munkey-Shack in the country this weekend (with patermunkey & Ms Cait - I wouldn't trust Oli to take me there at the moment), so hopefully a few days of frollicking on hillsides will set me grinning like an idiot again. Be well, lovers and dreamers.