Contemplations of Matricide

I'm going back into hospital. Suffice to say I hate my mother.

The Week Part I

Last week's Week will be slightly late, although as a bit of a sample, I direct you to the MMB blog which I write.

My Namèd Stick

I have a name for my stick.

I wanted to name it after one of the Furies (who - interesting historical sidebar - were born from the droplets of blood in the sea resulting from Cronos' castration of his father, Uranus, the separated appendage having been tossed into the ocean), so my options were Tisiphone, Megaera and Allecto.

Megaera would have, in my opinion, led to too many parallels being drawn with Hercules (the disney extravaganza), so that option was out.

Tisiphone did wage some righteous slaughter in Aeneid X, but Virgil described her as pale. My stick is predominantly black. That just wouldn't have meshed.

And thus, although J K Rowling got there first, my stick is named Allecto the Destroyer (because Monica suggested 'the Destroyer' and it had a nice ring to it).

Here's a photo. My stick's the black one.

My Nameless Stick

I got a Lacrosse stick today. At long expletiving last. It's black with silver and yellow. It matches my mouthguard. It's awesome.

It requires a name. So far the ideas are:

Biggus Dickus
Lord Archibald
The Basilisk

Input muchly welcome.

People v. Inanimate Objects

My Mao alarmclock died. I am unimpressed.

It also means that I must now find another inanimate object to pit myself and others against. And I've found the perfect one: my pencil case.

It's the 1962 edition Encyclopaedia Britannica, Vol. 7; hollowed out, with my stationery inside. And people can't seem to open it without it attacking them.

Case in point this afternoon: I was at Hurstville station waiting for a bus to get me home when I ran into one of the ex-Marists (Kogarah Marist College, a Catholic boy's high school relatively close to St. G) who now attends Sydney Boys. Upon looking quizzically at the old encyclopaedia tied closed with a shoelace which was on top of my folder, I informed him it was my pencil case, at which point he tried to open it. And failed.

Pencil case: 1. Humanity: 0.

After showing him how to undo the shoelace, he opened the cover... at which point a highlighter jumped (yes, jumped. I shit you not) out.

Pencil case: 2. Humanity: still 0.

The funny thing is that I never have any trouble with it. I suppose it's because it respects its maker.

The Week

There isn't much by way of the funnies this week due to the fact that I've been knitting and writing parody songs for AUJS (Australian Union of Jewish Students - it's a uni thing that Sarah's directing) Revue 2010: The Shulshank Rejewsion.

No, I jest. The likelihood of it being called that is minimal at best. Other name options are:
Jewno (Juno)
Jews (Jaws)
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Jew (guess which movie we got that idea from)
No Country for Old Jews
Gentlemen Prefer Jews
The Jews Brothers (Blues Brothers)
etc. Basically if there's a Jew pun to be made, we've tried it.

And onto The Week!!!

We were in Latin, as we are wont to be when something funny happens. I had asked Sir when the song Mambo Number 5 had come out.
Sir: It would have been the late nineties. I remember it playing at my year 12 formal.
Soap: (in an amazed tone) You had formals back then??
Sir: (in that bitterly ironic tone he tends to use a lot around us) Yes, Sophia. We wore our best loincloths and draped the hide of a freshly slaughtered deer over our backs.
I laughed for a solid five minutes.

Later that lesson, Sophia put her headband over her eyes, turned to Elsa and whispered the following:
Soap: Elsa, I'm a cyborg.
She assumed none of us could hear her. Unfortunately for her, she whispered it at the exact moment our class was completely silent. So sir responded thus:
Sir: (stage whisper) Sophia, we can hear you.

And then on friday in LEX...
Sir: I can't afford to give you wine, you boozehound.
(That was the gist of a Horace poem about Virgil... Well my class found it funny.)