Why yes!...

I am bored at work. How did you know?

This is my photo wall at my work desk - it has many important peeps and places, namely:

Big Sis - in a phone booth, jumping in the Loire and conga-ing in London;
My favourite pic of my mum;
My favourite pic of mum's seat in the Arms;
Passport snap of my lay-dee;
Panos of Buckingham and Loch Ness; and
A dee-lightful joke about the plight of government town planning - I can hear you titter already.

Find them all and win!

I also have a plush toy turtle hanging from my desk lamp, but that will have to wait for another post.

I'm now 24 24-7

Well the age of 24 was introduced in style. It started when Em-rock jigged on over to my place to make me a special birthday dinner, inlcuding chocolate cake (see below), honey and butterscotch ice cream and a birthday kiss! Made me feel well special.

On Saturday, the whole Rocho crew rugged up to watch me play in my soccer grand final. Unfortunately, we got smashed 2-0 by the Brokeback Mount Colah strangely-aggressive-for-a-sixth-division-team ferals.

Even stranger, we got two medals each - one for coming second in the table, and one for losing the grand final. Consolation prizes take on a whole new level in the easily-bruised-pride world of all-age soccer.

In other soccer related news, I watched FC bring in the new season with a nice win against Central. Dwight was out and about, controlling things from the midfield. The Central supporters sent two of their gang in banana suits for a tour of the stadium. They got back to the away team area drenched in beer and ice-cream. Which is how most people like their bananas.

Also, my flatmate recently bought home this:

It's a jigsaw puzzle in the shape of a full size soccer ball, with all the flags of the teams from the World Cup on it. Way rad!

Happy Birthday to me,

...Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday dear meee-eeee,
Happy birthday to me!

You don't have a memory - it has you!

The mighty 6B Flying Balls won our semi final on the weekend. 2-nil. And yours truly scored the first of those goals, around about the 20-minute mark. Various excerpts from the match report classed my finishing as 'brilliant' and my running as 'tireless'. Shucks.

Must say I was well pleased with the one-touch finish in the bottom left corner of the goal, after a one-on-one with the keeper.

As an interesting sidenote, the goalkeeper I comprehensively beaten was the same guy who refereed me in the last game, giving me a yellow (see previous post). Ah sweet poetic justice.

Anyways, the celebrations started at the game:

And didn't finish until 2am the next morn.

I wobbled home from the Crows Nest hotel, re-enacting my goal from the day before. We could be heroes...

In other news - I will soon be slightly-closer-to-over-the-hill. 24 has crept up faster than I expected. Friday night will be spent remembering my yoof and browsing walking frame catalogues, in a Radox bath.

Hope youse all are well. Shout outs to Sis for being the only regular blog updater.

Out.

Finally...

Sorry kiddos, I have been a very bad blogger. I have been otherwise occupied taking All Age 6B club soccer too seriously and getting yellow cards for backchat. Also, running 14kms with 60,000 other people and avoiding bleeding nipple syndrome.

Last Friday I made the train trip down to the Gong to watch Sydney FC lose a shocker of a match to Adelaide, in the Pre-season cup semi-final. Mark Shield, the referee most notable for being the only referee from Oceania at the 2006 World Cup had a BARRY, including letting a player who was off the field for treatment suddenly run onto the field when the ball came near him to tackle the opposition, and sending a Sydney FC player off during the half-time break.

I think that all World Cup refs must have gone to some kind of subversive communist training school pre the World Cup, with a conspiracy plan to slowly frustrate the capitalist world with bad refereeing decisions, thereby sending us all slowly mad. Mwah ha ha!

That, or they are just crap.

Anyways, next planned run is the Pub-to-Pub, a gruelling 13km run starting in the sand at Dee Why and ending in the outdoor bar at Newport. Should be good.

I sent Sis some Naprogesic last week, and the day after I sent it, I saw some kiwis getting done for smuggling pseudoephedrine through customs on Border Security. I had dreams of being dragged into a cell by a bovver booted copper shouting, 'Where's your hayfever now, me old mate?!'

Oh well, it'll be worth it if KT no longer looks like this: