Monday, October 04, 2004
Come and smile, don't be shy,
Touch my bum, this is life,
- The Cheeky Girls
Ahh, that's better.
I just needed a break you see. I'd like to say there are all sorts of exciting reasons why I haven't updated this page for a few weeks, but there are none, I just, ya know, needed a break. So thanks for popping by, your patience I assure you, will be rewarded.
So what news of you?
Well I've been fine, just entered a period of inter-seasonal anxiety followed by a warm afterglow of calm which has resulted in me having slightly pinker cheeks than normal. So there we go, three weeks away and all I can report is pink cheeks, fun times if you're at Pitcairn High, but otherwise a dim result.
But yes, pink cheeks, a result of sunshine, which I must confess to lying idly in from time to time. Yesterday I christened my front lawn by sprawling in the grass reading the paper, then retrieved a cool beer from the fridge, wiped it's across my glistening brow and said
'If only we might fall,
Like cherry blossoms in the spring
So pure and radiant.'
A sparrow nodded in quiet appreciation.
Pink cheeks, what else? Well, I had a maths teacher once and he was a prick with pink cheeks. Actually all my maths teachers were pricks (apart from one I developed a teenage Roger Kerr-like crush on) but what singles this one out that his face was a mess of burst blood vessels. He stunk of booze, naturally, but the most distracting thing was trying to study trigonometry while capillary chaos theory exploded across his blotched, sweaty cheeks. But he had the last laugh. He caned me for dousing his classroom in Brut 33 aftershave. The brute.
Anyhow, it's nice to be back.
Touch my bum, this is life,
- The Cheeky Girls
Ahh, that's better.
I just needed a break you see. I'd like to say there are all sorts of exciting reasons why I haven't updated this page for a few weeks, but there are none, I just, ya know, needed a break. So thanks for popping by, your patience I assure you, will be rewarded.
So what news of you?
Well I've been fine, just entered a period of inter-seasonal anxiety followed by a warm afterglow of calm which has resulted in me having slightly pinker cheeks than normal. So there we go, three weeks away and all I can report is pink cheeks, fun times if you're at Pitcairn High, but otherwise a dim result.
But yes, pink cheeks, a result of sunshine, which I must confess to lying idly in from time to time. Yesterday I christened my front lawn by sprawling in the grass reading the paper, then retrieved a cool beer from the fridge, wiped it's across my glistening brow and said
'If only we might fall,
Like cherry blossoms in the spring
So pure and radiant.'
A sparrow nodded in quiet appreciation.
Pink cheeks, what else? Well, I had a maths teacher once and he was a prick with pink cheeks. Actually all my maths teachers were pricks (apart from one I developed a teenage Roger Kerr-like crush on) but what singles this one out that his face was a mess of burst blood vessels. He stunk of booze, naturally, but the most distracting thing was trying to study trigonometry while capillary chaos theory exploded across his blotched, sweaty cheeks. But he had the last laugh. He caned me for dousing his classroom in Brut 33 aftershave. The brute.
Anyhow, it's nice to be back.
