I’d rather be blogging.
I’d rather be drinking coffee.
I have an urge to curse.
My favourite swearword is turd with unflushable in front of it. 
"When these guys aren’t in the top flight and they’re probably getting a can of Coke and a Mars Bar for their effort, of course it will discourage people from becoming a referee," – Players’ Association president Tony Butterfield said.
Having read this piece it seems that referees aren’t interested in their profession and only participate in refereeing for the chance to have sex, photograph sex or watch other men have sex with women.
"The big quest is to find the fattest or the ugliest woman, dance with her and see if you can get her back to your room," one referee told the Herald yesterday. "It is a boy thing. It is a laugh."
No, it’s not a boy thing and it’s not a laugh.
It is cruel and abusive and it can be defined as having an Antisocial Personality Disorder, displaying psychopathy or sociopathy.
Even with all this, I loved being an apprentice Florist and no days more than Saturdays when all the freshly-proposed-to would come into the little ‘Weddings a specialty’ flower shop with either their bossy mother or their bossy maid-of-honour to order wedding flowers.
Their rings would sparkle almost as much as they did, with what I thought was the true love of it all. Even then my nascent cynicism was evident as after an hour of discussing the relative benefits of a Cascade bouquet with Stephanotis or Frangipani I would think
"Shit make a decision! It’s just a wedding bouquet."
Then, usually at about six weeks before the wedding the mother or maid-of-honour would come in upset saying that it was just so sad the wedding is off, and can we refund the deposit on the flowers?
Older and more cynical, with one of my brothers married for 26 days, I see weddings differently. Now I see them as,
I once created a huge wedding bouquet for a girlfriend who before her 36th birthday believed that she was too old to marry. Because this made her sad, we as her friends organised a wedding-day-themed-dress-up 36th birthday party to cheer her up.
I’m not anti-love, and I’m not anti-let’s-give-it-a-go, but I am anti-dishonesty and Charles and Camilla have been profoundly mendacious. Unconditional, reciprocal love is so fundamental to a person’s wellness that it is not unreasonable to expect it from those you marry, as Princess Diana did.
"Bring him a virgin and make sure she’s fertile…"
…was what was overheard as Queen Elizabeth and the Queen Mother discussed Charles’ future.
I’m not sure if I applaud Camilla and Charles for their love-above-all-antics or they make me wretch as I remember the emotional abuse story that Charles’ previous wife told of living in a relationship with he-who-will-be-King and the ‘other woman’.
They will not be married in a church and I doubt either of them will be wearing white.
Either way I want to stay far, far, away from them both and I hope it doesn’t turn out to be a shotgun wedding…eek.
My hope for PM in 2007, has resigned from parliament.
He is looking as sick as his beloved Labor party is!
He just wasn’t what I hoped he could be.
Even as I listen to the audio I’m thinking "internal attribution; suck it up"
I’m instantly ashamed of my lack of concern for him as a human being.
I guess that’s how it is.
I demand that my Leaders lead.
I admire Mark as an individual, a husband, a father and a son.
He is putting his health and family before his career.
He can however, not fill the expectation I have for Leader of my country.
I’ve just realised what that means.
It means that I expect utter devotion and single-mindedness to one role.
I dislike personalities like that.
They make such lousy people…
What I expect creates what I dislike.
I have to go now, I need to cook some comfort food for me and the lighthouse keeper.
"the attack is a sign that they have survived."
