Say Something...

And now for the most superfluous segment to hit publication since the "Rudds v Howards" segment in The Age, which polls the electorate for indecisive people who share the names of our political leaders on who will win the upcoming election. It's a wonder why they didn't come up with this sooner... cos everyone knows people with similar names are more in touch with each other... right? Last week the Rudds and Howards were in Rudd's favour 5 - 3. With bated breath, I wonder what will happen this week. You can smell the enthusiasm from my feet a mile away. What do you say to that, Mister Rudd?

Well that was uncalled for... how rude!


Anyway, I was promising a segment of sorts for all you loyal readers out there, and I shall not renege on said promise like a politician flipping the bird. It's now time for another of my random photos from the life of such and such and the weird world I view them from. Before I begin, firstly I have to ask the following question: how do you know you've become dependant on caffeine in your daily existence?


Originally I was hoping to have the cups fill up to the top of the bin, but then recycling day hit two days later so alas it was not to be. That exposes a harsh reality that us photobloggers face from time to time, do we bother doctoring the photo or not? I mean it'd definitely look funnier if it was completely full... so do I go and line the bottom with chunks of polystyrene spray painted to look like coffee cups? Do I go and steal used cups from other people so it fills up quicker? Or do I go out and get a life?

Speaking of a life, don't go about judging me about that Diet Coke in the bin. It was being given away at the station or something, plus I was performing my very own Coke test where I compared Diet Coke, Coke Zero and that weird drink from Singapore I got in a show bag at Uni open day 4 years ago (Go Sursi!). It can only get better with age, right? I find it odd how they can market two lines of product that are effectively the same thing but in different packaging. It's like one is targeted towards women who are health conscious and the other is orientated towards guys who want to drink Diet Coke but are scared their mates will accuse them of being so very in touch with their feminine side. I bet they both come out of the same pipe too...

So stop badgering me about the Diet Coke. This isn't the segment where you go and critique the contents of my workplace bin, though that post will be coming along later when I go raid the trash of the rich and famous on bin night. First stop: Mel and Kochie. They can't look that happy all the time without some sort of illicit drug or the essence of several small children before each broadcast. After all the children are our future, and then breakfast, lunch and tea.


I may have missed my train to work and was subsequently ten minutes late for work, but it was all worth it in my opinion. Clever (or funny) graffiti is hard to come by these days and this piece of work made me smile for some odd reason. As usual I take the wording down to its literal level and imagine some guy just loitering about (that's illegal too mind you) on the staircase staring you down, hurling abuse from above as you try and make the train for that urgent appointment. There may as well have been someone standing there heckling me after missing that train, but luckily no one else was there to celebrate my idiocy.

At this point I may as well go and take another pot shot at the state of public transport in this city. When that new fancy timetable of theirs was put into place last month the people running the joint were so out of sync that they apparently didn't know what to do and everyone was left stranded in stationary carriages in the rail yards outside Flinders Street for minutes on end. They eventually worked things out after a week or so, but really if they can't handle a few additional trains here and there, what makes them think they'll be able to handle the new trains due to show up in the next few years? For shame. I'm Alan Jones.**



*May not be real headline. Though I did say it was from the Sun, so you would've been well within your rights to believe it was true. The Rudds and Howards out there would not have been impressed.
**May not be real name. For the record I have no interest in coaching a rugby side or cavorting about in public toilets. I will take sponsorships any day though, for I am a sellout and would like a shiny new car to avoid the public transport I so sorely deride.