When I happened to see this on the sidebar of Sarah's home screen, I knew I had to immediately take a screen shot, crop it in paint, and then stick it on my facebook wall.
And then I decided to blog it for good measure. Such fun.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
The Wonders of the Book of Face
When I happened to see this on the sidebar of Sarah's home screen, I knew I had to immediately take a screen shot, crop it in paint, and then stick it on my facebook wall.
And then I decided to blog it for good measure. Such fun.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Deborahfail
I'm at MLC at the moment jacking their student internet on Deb's laptop because she has gymnastics at the moment. She didn't want to catch the train on her own, so I accompanied her like the lovely sister I am.
A few minutes ago, whilst practicing her beam dismounts, she managed to overbalance forward and land on her face. Which prompted me to speak the following quote from that brilliant movie 'Fired Up'
Oh My God, you broke her face. Almost in half. Where are we going to find another one of those this late in the day?
Such fun.
Although now she's developing a black eye, so that should be heaps awkies for me on the train with her.
A few minutes ago, whilst practicing her beam dismounts, she managed to overbalance forward and land on her face. Which prompted me to speak the following quote from that brilliant movie 'Fired Up'
Oh My God, you broke her face. Almost in half. Where are we going to find another one of those this late in the day?
Such fun.
Although now she's developing a black eye, so that should be heaps awkies for me on the train with her.
JewRevue - The Aftermath
Those of you who were anywhere near my facebook profile in the past week and a bit will be more than aware of the fact that JewRevue 2011 (The Lambshank Redemption) just finished its run of of performances.
Gosh it was fun. Being only in high school I had to be content with merely writing scripts and doing front of house, but even so, it was terribly enjoyable. To re-affirm what I've taken to saying reasonably often: Such fun.
In a later post, I'm going to go through the program etc, in a manner akin to my Eurovision rundowns, but for now, I'm going to just go with a quick summary of the afterparty. And what an afterparty it was.
Hosted by Tom, one of the voiceover guys, we were told to enter via the side entrance to his house. Understandable, seeing as his parents were home. So Sarah and I walk down the driveway, and guess what he has in his front yard.
Have you guessed yet?
A TENNIS COURT.
Oh yes. Welcome to Vaucluse. Anyway. We then descend the sandstone staircase that is the 'side entrance', walking past the billiards room (more on that later), to reach the backyard. Now let's take a moment to let our minds boggle. In his backyard, there is a pool on a cliff, overlooking THE HARBOUR BRIDGE. I MEAN HOLY EXPLETIVES.
Anywho. We then enter the kitchen/party central, wherein we see a liquor cabinet so expansive and extensive that it was actually ridiculous, and a television so large that I initially mistook it for a feature wall. But no. It was a television. I know.
And now, in the bent of the Marching Band Blog which I write, we have a Fun Fact!: Tequila tastes remarkably like horseradish. Thus making Tequila and orange juice taste remarkably like horseradish and orange juice. There you go.
And now onto the billiards room mentioned above. The table was roughly two by five metres. I shit you not. It was like pool on steroids. But stemming from that, I have discovered that watching mildly intoxicated uni students play pool (or rather fail thereat) is incredibly entertaining. Such fun.
I also discovered that I am reasonably atrocious at pool. I should probably stick to activities which merely involve hitting people with sticks.
Anyway, come 0500, my phone alarm goes off, and Sarah and I realise that perhaps we ought to jolly on home lest mum awaken before we get there. Because that would be mildly awkies.
So we sat in the car, blasting Ke$ha (because we;re just that classy) in a desperate attempt to not go into microsleeps and thus DIE A HORRIBLE, PAINFUL AND FIERY DEATH, and somehow made it home by quarter to six. And then proceeded to sleep until 1330.
Best. Afterparty. EVER.
I'm so pumped for the Revunion.
Gosh it was fun. Being only in high school I had to be content with merely writing scripts and doing front of house, but even so, it was terribly enjoyable. To re-affirm what I've taken to saying reasonably often: Such fun.
In a later post, I'm going to go through the program etc, in a manner akin to my Eurovision rundowns, but for now, I'm going to just go with a quick summary of the afterparty. And what an afterparty it was.
Hosted by Tom, one of the voiceover guys, we were told to enter via the side entrance to his house. Understandable, seeing as his parents were home. So Sarah and I walk down the driveway, and guess what he has in his front yard.
Have you guessed yet?
A TENNIS COURT.
Oh yes. Welcome to Vaucluse. Anyway. We then descend the sandstone staircase that is the 'side entrance', walking past the billiards room (more on that later), to reach the backyard. Now let's take a moment to let our minds boggle. In his backyard, there is a pool on a cliff, overlooking THE HARBOUR BRIDGE. I MEAN HOLY EXPLETIVES.
Anywho. We then enter the kitchen/party central, wherein we see a liquor cabinet so expansive and extensive that it was actually ridiculous, and a television so large that I initially mistook it for a feature wall. But no. It was a television. I know.
And now, in the bent of the Marching Band Blog which I write, we have a Fun Fact!: Tequila tastes remarkably like horseradish. Thus making Tequila and orange juice taste remarkably like horseradish and orange juice. There you go.
And now onto the billiards room mentioned above. The table was roughly two by five metres. I shit you not. It was like pool on steroids. But stemming from that, I have discovered that watching mildly intoxicated uni students play pool (or rather fail thereat) is incredibly entertaining. Such fun.
I also discovered that I am reasonably atrocious at pool. I should probably stick to activities which merely involve hitting people with sticks.
Anyway, come 0500, my phone alarm goes off, and Sarah and I realise that perhaps we ought to jolly on home lest mum awaken before we get there. Because that would be mildly awkies.
So we sat in the car, blasting Ke$ha (because we;re just that classy) in a desperate attempt to not go into microsleeps and thus DIE A HORRIBLE, PAINFUL AND FIERY DEATH, and somehow made it home by quarter to six. And then proceeded to sleep until 1330.
Best. Afterparty. EVER.
I'm so pumped for the Revunion.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Shenannigans in Lewisham
Today, I wasted a perfectly good triple free.
I needed to drop off the audition video I made for spec (which I was up until 1 am burning to a disk. It's harder than you'd think); so the moment recess started, I vamoosed from the school grounds to catch a train to Lewisham via Redfern, because for whatever ridiculous reason, The Arts Unit is based at Lewisham Public School. As one would.
Regardless. After traversing the inner west for a while as I actually searched for the school, I finally found the blasted school. At which point I had to work out where to deposit the bloody audition DVD. Luckily for me, there was a lovely young administrative drone who happened to step outside as I pondered possible routes of delivery, and who proceeded to take said DVD for me to deposit with whomever it was meant to be deposited. So thank you, kind stranger affiliated with The Arts Unit.
Aaaaaaaanywhom, I then headed back to the station (although this time via a far less circuitous route - I love learning from mistakes), at which point I got to wait on the rather hot platform of Lewisham station, before getting onto an even hotter train. I mean we're back to analogies regarding Satan's armpit here. Although I suppose the fact that I was in full school uniform down to the stockings wasn't helping matters. Gosh does that stuff insulate.
On the train, I happened to run into Katelyn Campbell, which was lovely, seeing as we hadn't actually seen each other since year 8, wherein we had [a certain mildly crazy biology teacher who now runs enviro club] (ever since that post earlier this week, I'm ensuring I don't actually put in any names lest any more shit hit any more fans). So basically we spent year 8 science choosing hair colours and reading science fiction. Such fun.
And (much to my satisfaction) I made it back to school in time for a lunchtime dance rehearsal.
I just can't help but think that I would have had FAR more fun coaching year 10 Lacrosse. There's just something innately enjoyable about yelling at juniors (for those of you who haven't yet noticed, I consider anyone below year 12 to be a junior) to shove each other out of the way, to be more violent etc. Terribly entertaining.
Oh well. Come next term, I'll be working with [the new head teacher PDHPE, a certain diminutive redhead] to get an interhouse Lacrosse competition going. Gosh I'm pumped.
Oh Bugger. I just realised that I neglected to sign back in upon my arrival at school. That might be an issue come next week.
I needed to drop off the audition video I made for spec (which I was up until 1 am burning to a disk. It's harder than you'd think); so the moment recess started, I vamoosed from the school grounds to catch a train to Lewisham via Redfern, because for whatever ridiculous reason, The Arts Unit is based at Lewisham Public School. As one would.
Regardless. After traversing the inner west for a while as I actually searched for the school, I finally found the blasted school. At which point I had to work out where to deposit the bloody audition DVD. Luckily for me, there was a lovely young administrative drone who happened to step outside as I pondered possible routes of delivery, and who proceeded to take said DVD for me to deposit with whomever it was meant to be deposited. So thank you, kind stranger affiliated with The Arts Unit.
Aaaaaaaanywhom, I then headed back to the station (although this time via a far less circuitous route - I love learning from mistakes), at which point I got to wait on the rather hot platform of Lewisham station, before getting onto an even hotter train. I mean we're back to analogies regarding Satan's armpit here. Although I suppose the fact that I was in full school uniform down to the stockings wasn't helping matters. Gosh does that stuff insulate.
On the train, I happened to run into Katelyn Campbell, which was lovely, seeing as we hadn't actually seen each other since year 8, wherein we had [a certain mildly crazy biology teacher who now runs enviro club] (ever since that post earlier this week, I'm ensuring I don't actually put in any names lest any more shit hit any more fans). So basically we spent year 8 science choosing hair colours and reading science fiction. Such fun.
And (much to my satisfaction) I made it back to school in time for a lunchtime dance rehearsal.
I just can't help but think that I would have had FAR more fun coaching year 10 Lacrosse. There's just something innately enjoyable about yelling at juniors (for those of you who haven't yet noticed, I consider anyone below year 12 to be a junior) to shove each other out of the way, to be more violent etc. Terribly entertaining.
Oh well. Come next term, I'll be working with [the new head teacher PDHPE, a certain diminutive redhead] to get an interhouse Lacrosse competition going. Gosh I'm pumped.
Oh Bugger. I just realised that I neglected to sign back in upon my arrival at school. That might be an issue come next week.
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