Say Something...

As I type this, I am listening to The Essential Michael Jackson CD I "won" at Marcus's 21st, and let me say this: Smooth Criminal never sounded better or an apt description of how I got this. More on that later.

We showed up at Marcus' place around 6, and it was nice of them to wait for my train to show up around six. It was even nicer when the guys at work let me bugger off early to be there. They don't read this blog (and hopefully they never will for all sorts of litigious reasons) but I just thought I should make that clear. We were among the first to show up, and therefore first to be able to explore Marcus's backyard, as this photo will surely attest.

Just a quick mention about the food. They had some caterers around to serve all manner of food and drink which was quite nice, including three types of meat, which was extra nice. My only real question is this: why can these guys do such a decent job when the body corporate Christmas party for the place where I live can't even serve up a decent plate of rice? I don't count my self as being a fussy person but it's sure mighty swell to be able to eat rice that feels like it just got poured out of the bag. You wonder how much the body corp paid for food like that, I mean even a soup kitchen for the homeless could've done a better job. There were also way too many flies, but that was probably because we were sitting next to the garbage bin like the hobos we are. Constantly having to swat away at your meal doesn't exactly leave you with many hands left to eat with.

As per usual, whenever I attempt to take a drink of anything remotely alcoholic like a beer or a smooth tasting bottle of mouth rinse, I turn a bright shade of red and people start asking me if I've had a severe sunburn or if I have indeed soiled myself and feel really embarrassed about it. Now know this, people but like many Asians before me I have a lower tolerance for the drink than an eight year old white person. Sure I may look really pissed off after two drinks but rest assured that I am completely fine and am capable of making it across the room without your assistance. However, under said circumstances I do find things a lot funnier and will often tend to laugh a lot more audibly as my BAC reaches 0.002. Squared.

Evidence of the drink will often manifest itself in the form of photographs where the contrasting skin tones of those around me make appear to have emerged from a politically incorrect cartoon about native Americans. Or conversely it makes you take pictures where Emma is trying to bite your ear off. Whatever... it's all been done before.



If Cricket Australia can't make up it's mind about the concept of playing test cricket at night, perhaps they should have a look at these pictures here. Clearly proving that we will play anywhere anytime, after the party ended at around midnight we pulled out the metal stumps and the rubber ball to play in the backyard with the floodlights (or should that be floodlight) on. Unfortunately we didn't have the full compliment of the six light towers surrounding us but we soldiered on regardless. I don't wish to trivialise the roles of our national cricketers but those lights are damned hard to play under. It was a case of either absolute light or absolute darkness with either case resulting in blindness, and the ball would often run away into the bushes. But for that one hour under the stars, we wouldn't have it any other way.


We got Marcus a wide array of gifts to the value of $500+ which is enough to buy several thousand Chupa Chups or a cheap set of furniture from Sydney's. We got him neither of those extremely thoughtless ideas and one of those improved ideas was a bat signed by all us guys from uni, or the 21st XI which is kinda confusing when you say it out loud. Unfortunately we got trumped when his family presented him with a bat signed by the captain of some local team. Can't quite recall what his name was, Ricardo Pointy or something. Which one will be worth more? Only time will tell.


I'm only mentioning this simply because I showed up to sign the bat last and I was suddenly called upon to open the batting. If only people knew how bad my batting was. It makes Geraint Jones look like a decent keeper.

There was a 90s themed quiz later on in the night which I maintained had far too many questions about Beverley Hills 90210, Friends and Titanic and not enough questions about Captain Planet. The less said about our "efforts" in the quiz the better I suppose, but we did end up winning simply by virtue of waiting for the other teams to trip over themselves as they outraced each other to answer the questions. The way we were going I was surprised we were anywhere near the lead, what with a multi-syllabled team name like ROFLMAO, but we managed to win on the last question to claim prizes only I appeared to be interested in. Chairman Mao would be proud.


I guess it's always a good night when you can't remember what time you dosed off. Being awake 23 hours straight is not a good way to live while watching the original Transformers movie and playing the N64 and cards. Replenish is a fun way to win games, unless you're playing against it. Those who were left standing the next day went for pancakes and a long drive where Burke Road somehow managed to clog itself up on a Saturday afternoon. I should say that the Country Breakfast is good for anyone who hasn't really eaten much during the past few hours, as well as the stoners in those ads on the radio.

That's all from me for the time being. We here at Say Something are fast approaching 50 posts and hopefully we'll be doing something to celebrate, like throw a party for the 5 people who read this. But honestly, even if only one person read this, I'd still be penning away epic after epic post... all for you at home or wherever you're reading this. I'm going to close this little saga by presenting a little Jackson related video. Remember the classic video Thriller? If so, have you ever wondered what it'd be like if they were made of Lego? I'm sure you all have, as have the other 1.4 million people who have seen this on YouTube. Enjoy.



Oh, and extra points to you if you identified the stinky pun in the title... the answer comes from the chorus of Night Fever by the Bee Gees. Now that'll cringe the heck outta ya.