All The Small Things

Sometimes don’t you just sit there and think about how nice the simple things in life are and how beautiful it would be to have them in our everyday lives.

Now I’m not talking about the smell of a dandelion in a meadow whilst skipping with the Von Traps or the milk around a puppy’s mouth after a drink from it’s puppy bowl, with little paws over it accompanied by a caption saying “I’se Did Stoled Yous Milk”

I’m talking about having a shower-head that doesn’t try and knock you out, as the fastening-screw,that holds it up is so old, it has forgotten what the words fasten-screw means and interprets it as “I’m going to screw Paul as fast as I can by coming down on his head right in the middle of him soaping up his face so he is oblivious to what’s going on, and impact him in such a way that he thinks he is being assaulted by some Libyan Protest Group protesting against naked bald guys using soap free soap and attacking them in the shower, causing them to scream like a little girl.”

Or waking up at 3 am and having a sliding door that doesn’t come off it rails when you are trying to rush to the toilet leaving you 4 inches to slide your fat gut and other extremities through while trying not to wet yourself. In fact, if you happened across me doing this at 3 am, yourself on your way to the toilet you would almost shit yourself literally if the moon was coming through the window at the right angle and there, in the hallway, there was an apparition of a glowing white poltergeist looking figure, flaying about, stuck in the doorway, muttering in a half dazed slur “arrrgh for farks sake, arm stuck, arrrr no, damm eet, ay kort me deek in da door, farkin arrrgghhh !!!!!…..

That’s a sight no child or person should be subject to…

Here’s some more…. yeah, that’s right, I made a list !

Smoke detectors that don’t go off when you turn a light on in the house causing you to push the women, children and old people out of your way to save yourself from burning alive.

A ceiling fan that you don’t need 2 people to start like the red Barron’s Bi-Wing Aeroplane where you have one person on the switch and the other on a chair, risking decapitation while trying to kick start the mother and keep some sort of momentum going for a breeze that’s only as strong as a fart.

Light fittings that don’t literally pop the globe when you look at them. I mean, I’ve heard of Eco friendly globes but we seemed to have come across Eco angry globes at some point.

A front step that doesn’t require a helmet, ab-sailing equipment and personal indemnity against injury for visitors.

A garage door that opens up enough avoiding cranial scrapes every time you go to get the car.

Power outlets that don’t have personality disorders and shut themselves off when you use another adjacent PowerPoint that seems to upset the previous PowerPoint cos it thinks you are cheating on it.

Built in robe doors that don’t fall off their hinges onto your kids while they are sleeping so often you start to think you should start calling them Mr Baldy and reporting it to the Local Schools to watch out for Built In Robes loitering around the play grounds.

Electric hotplates that actually work and not require you to guess which one is on and even when you finally figure it out, it changes plates for the hell of it. So cooking a bowl of chili stag requires you and the stove to play a game of Simon Says and you try and find the sequence of plates based on the hotness required.

Neighbours that don’t turn thier lights on and flash you with torches when you are trying to have a leak on the lemon tree after a few beers only to have them say “Oh sorry mate, didn’t know it was you”.

I mean, COME ON !! Who else would it be ya stupid friggin Red Neck Moron. And Get Ya Torch Off My God Damn WILLIE !!!

I think the answer is obvious.

I gotta figgin move !!!

Let's Start At The End Shall We?

I want to start at the end, as opposed to the start, as it is in the end that we truly realize how we started. I understand you may be staring with an incredulous look around about now, but hear me out.

Ever wanted to know when, or even better, how you are going to die? I believe that when we think of this question we first say “yes” so as to maybe somehow cheat death and make sure it never happens.

But think of other things that can kill you, like a Bus, a chicken bone, a heart attack when you find channel 7 has bought Big Brother and is coming back in 2010…. How do you avoid these.. ?

Maybe then your answer will be “I only want to know if I die old and happy and peacefully.” But wait, what if you then are told “in that case we wont say anything”.

Then what?...

You are left with the disposition of wondering “OH Crap!!! Does that mean I die young and unhappy, or old and painfully?... or any other variation of the 3?"

I propose this….. Worry of death brings on appreciation of Life, ergo…. Death means Life.

In life we wonder how…. we wonder when….. we even wonder how long it will take. Will it be the 3.45 express from Lota? Will it be another slow rendition of Unchained melody remix by DJ Bog Pants? Or will it be a slow painful death from cancer either self inflicted or genetic?

Either way if you concern yourself with it too much you will inevitably cause an Ulcer, and therefor, in a catch 22 situation, may in fact be the cause of issues that would lead to something fatal. Or you could find out from a crystal ball that you will die from an Ulcer, and in the end, know the end is coming and then worry enough to develop an Ulcer and wham-mo, there's your Conundrum.

And if you don’t want to know either way, and are happy with your life and don’t really care when you go and “hope” you live long and prosper, there is a small chance you will probably be pulled aside and told when and how you are going to die due to an out of the blue terminal illness whether you like it or not.

That is how life throws it’s uncanny stench of shit your way and all you can do is deal with it and appreciate what you have.

But somehow we only appreciate that which we do not have. "Life will be more fulfilling if I have this, or if I am with them". In Buddhism we call this 'Grasping' but it's just a take on the "The grass is never better on the other side" analogy.

And if you have something and are told that you have to give it back or youthat you are no longer going to have it in a week, then you commit to using it as much as you can. Afterwards, usual comments like “Gee, I really wish I appreciated (insert missed item or person here) when (it/he/she) was here)” are quite common.

An experience I once had was I bought an Xbox 360 game from EB Games, knowing full well of their “7 day return policy”. I played it and spent every waking moment committed to the game and racking up all it’s achievements. Then took it back after 7 days swapping it with a different game, and ended up missing it as I poured so much love and attention into it when I had it.

So in death, or the fear of Death, we re kindle life and learn to appreciate things we have that may not be here tomorrow. We start in the fear of there actually being an end. We sometimes need that kick start from either a loss of a loved one or the news of one that is loved that will be lost in order to appreciate them, ourselves and the fragile string that holds each life up that is only cut by fate itself.

Cancer…. Funny as Shit

Actually it is… seriously.

Originally, the hardest part of telling people I had cancer was waiting for them to say “Oh my God, are you Okay?”

Well, that’s not the funny part. In fact that is not really funny at all. In fact it's pretty awful to be told something like that.

While we are on the subject of things that ain't nice, something else that isn't really funny is waiting for them to try and Segway a question along the lines of “how long you got?” or ” are you doing treatment?”. I mean, how do you ask someone a question like that? You can't. You'd be thinking it but stumble to verbalize it.

I know, I Know…. so what’s funny about Cancer?

Let me explain.

The human race is programmed to excel. Or in layman’s terms, "To go forth and multiply". The thought that we are somehow immune to all sicknesses and illnesses is part of our genetic makeup. One might say that it is our “Greater Than Thou” attitude that makes us stronger and a race of animals that will succeed.

One of the hardest things for a human to do is not to be empathetic. So when I first drop the bomb on them it is like “three, two, one… ” “Oh my God ! Are you serious” followed by the look in their eyes saying “oh my god, he is bald, I wonder if he is doing chemo?”

But that’s not the funny bit.

The funny bit is later.

After it has absorbed you suddenly see them wonder about “He doesn't look like a Cancer Victim. Is he going to die? Is he sick now? What Cancer does he have? How do I ask without upsetting him?"....

...... and then then I anticipate these questions and then I just start to rant.

Now this is the funny bit.

Hilarious actually.

Careful, as if you blink you will miss it.

The funny part is all me, not you.

It is the part where I get so uncomfortable about them just finding out that “Paul Has Cancer And Is Going To Die” that I actually start to feel sorry for them that they know someone that is (providing they don’t get hit by a bus anytime soon) going to die before they do.

I mean, some of you will know, but do you know how hard it is to lose someone close to you? It sucks dude!!!

The funny bit is where I start to say things like...
“Relax, I am fine, I’ll be here for a long time to come”
or “I am cool, the cancer I got is slow, and I probably wont have to do chemo for a while yet”
or “Look, the cancer I have is the good one, you know, the one where I live forever and die old and happy”.

Now it has taken me a long time to realize that I am only doing this to appease myself. Not them. I mean, no cancer is “good” and who the f*ck wants to do chemo. It’s like, saying “it’s okay, I am fine now and it is going to be ages before I need to inject Draino and strip my body of every natural healing chemical it has and wait for my liver and kidney to fail from it”

And as far as having the cancer that makes you live forever, well, that’s just f*cked up right there. I think I just say crap like that cos I am too stubborn and in denial sometimes.

I am totally amazed at the feeling of relief in my heart when they reply, “Holy crap dude, that’s great, you had me worried for a while there. Thank god you have the cancer makes you okay”……....

0.O

O.0

o.0

Pa leeeeez

But seriously, that is the reason I stopped telling people. Unless I am in a drunken stupor and it slips out.I mean, I started to tell people and before too long it just got too hard. I even tried to pick a person that knew a certain circle of friends and let them relay the news. But even that got too hard. Because I then had to group session a group of people, and it is hard to tell people you really love news like that.

It just got to hard. Seriously, it hurt more than the hundreds of tumors I had spreading throughout my body.

So, pretty much my whole blog entry today is about me misinterpreting people and doing the whole ranting thing like some friggin 8 year old before the parents even get a chance to speak and in turn, you end up dobbing yourself in.

I assume their responses and anticipate an emotional confrontation and then retreat by saying I am fine and embellish the whole cancer thing only to make them feel at ease as I am so scared they will get emotional and then I will.

Then the realization of how dumb I sounded afterwards with the way I tried to explain how “I am fine” and the stupid way I do it.

I look back and I can see that I always do it.

And it is hilarious.

If I actually give people the time to let it sink in for a few seconds then I would be fine and they would be fine, but I retreat and don’t even let them get to that point. It’s like I have to be “in control” of their reaction and then damper it like some spot-fire before it takes hold, when in fact they might be fine about it and be generally caring and understanding.

So with the inept way of me not being able to take ones reaction to my news, how does one tell others that he has Cancer?

May I suggest the best way?

Write it in your Blog and hope that those that read it and are able to have some sort of understanding that it is not good, I am in constant pain, I hardly sleep, I get night sweats and I am in fear of not making it every single day of my life, yet it hurts me more to tell them and to feel their loss before I am even gone.

I am still here and I am a strong, fit, outgoing and lovable guy who like hugs (hint hint) so don’t write me off just yet.

Embrace my life and my love of living and use it to enrich your own.

And to those I have already told, I want to thank you for all your support and please know I would not be able to speak about it now without your love and respect……

To Be, Or Not To Be Dog Shit.

Did you know you are truly unique.

I just read from a NASA web site that we are made up of an unimaginagle amount of atoms and they, on thier own do not live, but together, they are Mass.

Quite dormant on thier own, but they go together to make, well, to be honest, to make you, you.

I then found out, from Wikipedia (Yeah I know, I’m a Wiki Man) that the average human lives for 75 years which is about 650,000 hours.

So then I went into a self induced psychosis (Thank You Johnny Walker) and have decided that I have the answer to the Universe. Yep, seriously I do.

We are all, if not then only partially, pieces of Dog Shit.

If you were to pick yourself apart, into tiny atoms, you will be a pile of dead atoms that use to be you. While you are being you, you only have 650,000 hours to be you with these atoms until these atoms leave you and become something else…. ie: a tree, a duck or a series of different things like strands of Ray Martins Hair.

So…… The steps taking for you to be here, right now, reading this, and being you right here right now has been a series of miracles, totally unique to you, never to be repeated and special to the universe as you are occupying atoms once used either for one of the seven wonders of the world or pieces of atoms that used to be occupied by a lump of dog shit.

You truly are Unique.

Or I could be just interpreting too much from 2 separate pieces of information I happened to Google.

Food/Shit for thought.

Sunday 0.o

Can I just start by saying that I really really really like Sundays. No seriously. I don’t know how to explain.

Sundays are like the icing on the cake. The bullet in Dan Quail’s (spelt wrong) duck hunting riffle. As good as those mornings in Melbourne where it is so friken cold that the grass cracks under your feet.

Actually, the latter is not really awesome but it is truly memorable.

The reason it is so cool is that Sunday night you get to review the week that has been and assess what was the worst and try and not to do it again in the next week. But the problem is that you, as a human will go and do the same freakin thing all over again and come next Sunday night it’s a bit of a “Jeezus, can’t believe I scientifically cross inseminated those rabbits with pigs on Tuesday and I should have learnt from the other cloned rab-pigs that I created the week before.”

Oh well, here’s looking towards next week.

Bring on Monday, I’m ready. Just remember to leave your rabbits at home

Come Join My Rock Band

The crowd goes wild. I step out on the stage and there is a roar that starts at the front of the crowd and slowly goes all the way to the end of the stadium as each person realises I have entered the arena.

The crowd goes silent as I raise my hand up in the air ready to cast the first cord on my most excellent Gee tar !!!

I bring down that unholy pick to it’s rightful place and as I do a reverb notes vibrates across the crowd and I think a few people actually fainted.

It’s okay…. It’s expected. How could they not in the prescence of my most awsomness power.

Then the hard bit comes. The drums start, the Bass player starts struming along with the Bass Guitarist and then I release into a frenzy of cord rifts that would make Mother Teresa become a groupie.

Red Blue Blue Red Red hold…….. wammy bar, star power, then red red red green green red green blue red red red red blue green green ……..

Yes, That’s right. I’m talking about Guitar Hero and it’s addictive power to make you turn from being an everyday Joe Blow to a rock star so famous, no one will ever see the like of your kind again.

I bought Guitar Hero Metallica that comes with a Signiture Guitar especially made for this game. Then following a few hours of battling it out with Kirk, I then went and got Guitar Hero 3 legends of rock, World Tour and Aerosmith editions and also a second guitar so I can rock on with Mates.

Whats sad is that I have been taken over by my 7 year old Declan who for some reason has channeled the spirit of Chuck Berry and fingers the frets quicker than a punk fingers a politician at a grassroots rally.

But that’s okay, I mean, I want the best for him, even if it is the start of a whirlwind career as a famous rock band member that is plagued with drug abuse, ex wives and 100’s of Fatherless children across the world, well then….. you go Son! You go! (Bless his heart).

Wassup with Stress?

I don’t know about you but I have a problem with stress.

Today I discovered that if you cross a new job, with a little bit of financial pressure, as well and breaking the law, and also the feeling that you are going to die and possibly the icing on the cake is that no one actually cares, you somehow get a small Cold Sore…

I mean, Come On !!!!!

So what ! So you got a new job and you haven’t got time to scratch your arse !! Get over it you pussy !!!

Oh wait. I’m having flash backs of my childhood. Which leads me to my subject. I wonder how much of your childhood comes back to haunt you when you are older? It is an interesting question.

Imagine this. Getting into your car and instructing your children to lock the doors when they buckle themselves in. You do this for a few years and eventually someone says to you “Dude, why are you, like, totally telling your kids to, like, totally lock the doors, Man?”.

Other than the fact that I have just been asked a question from someone who speaks like a 16 year old is beside the point. I started to ask myself the same question.

I pondered the scenario of what happens if I crash into a swamp, or we get hit from behind and the children cannot unlock the doors as I have instructed them to lock them before hand, blatantly sealing their death in an event of an accident before it actually happens.

Turns out that one night when I was speaking to my Mum I asked the question “why am I so f*cked with this?” which is a common conversation I have… especially with Mum… I was given the reply of “I use to tell you kids to lock the doors when you were children”.

To my dismay it was because I use to play with the handles when I was a child and my Mother was scared I would accidently open the door in a corner and be flung out the door.

Isn’t that amazing that we carry all this subconscious luggage with us into adulthood. Whow! That is totally deep.

That explains alot of things that are going on in my head at the moment.

Oh God…..

I need help.