Roley Poley and Bike Pants don't go together

Fact 1 - I have never owned a pair of bike pants in my (ever-increasing) life time. I think I have an untapped fear of bike pants.
Fact 2 - Constant abuse of ≈€1 1/2L beers + gorging have culminated in mysterious additional kilos, which also means severe lack of tautness creating a ripple-like effect on skin (aka grandma skin).
Fact 3 - Skin has be devoid of sunshine which means I have yucky Singaporean porky-white skin pigmentation. I'd be prime meat for a BBQ at the moment.

So with much trepidation and slight moxie, I put on my 1st ever pair of bike pants on last night. Why? Our rep touch weekend is approaching and I thought I better try on the uniform (pictured) to check for size and fit. The result? A few problems. First, there are these elastic-y things around the bottom of the bike pants which gives the illusion of thigh-sausages, i.e. pinches bits of the thigh and makes area between end of pants to knees bulge out. Second, what is THE DEAL with the concentration of leopard print around the crotch area?!? And to add to the pain, Cherie didnt wash the top after borrowing it for the entire weekend - poor form Cherry. The moral of the story is that you will have a little porky pig in a tiger suit running around in Port Mac.

The most bizarre thing occurred during lunch yesterday. I was whinging, as I do, to Sharlene about the injustices of life (e.g. pig in tiger suit, having a pimple right in the middle of my forehead Indian style, having to walk from Central due to appliance-led terrorist attack on Town Hall etc) when this man in a soccer jersey who had been eating lunch on a nearby table, gets up, walks by, gestures a thumbs up, mutters something that I couldn't quite hear, then walks away. I promptly asked Shar what the hell he said and she reckons he said "you are sexy". My 1st response was 'are you serious'?!?!? And then I said, 'ARE YOU SERIOUS'?!?!?!?!? Then I said 'Nooooooooooooo'. Then I said 'You can't be for real'?!?!?!?! If what she heard was true, I think he may have been mocking me because: a) I was in a dishevelled state (collar tucked in, shirt hanging out); b) my hair was incorrigible; c) I had an Indian pimple; d) Just before he made that comment, I was shouting 'undervalued' at Sharlene. Upon reflection, I'm kinda offended by his wayward comment. One does not expect to be scrutinised during relaxing lunch hour, especially when deep in contemplation about the vicissitudes of life. I feel slightly violated.

Lastly, what is going on with our criminal justice system. First you have the instance of beauty contests in prisons where the winning female inmate may receive a reduced sentence as the prize. Then you have the judge that sentenced a lady to a night alone in the forest for abusing kittens - they are just kittens! Then you have Michelle Leslie (who still looks good with tears and snot all over her face) donning a burqa in hope of a reduced sentence - which worked. Someone told me that a large percentage of Muslims actually receive a significantly reduced penalty in Bali. Makes me wonder whether I would consider changing religion if I was faced with her situation.

Check out my Doraemon shoes ... so cute!

Ricky Martin says "Go Go Go"

How fantastic was that game last night between the Socceroos and that "You Are Gay" mob. They are touting it the game of a lifetime. My lifetime may now be less significant since I was only able to catch the 1st half and the penalty shootout. Why? We had a game of many lifetimes on our own hands, i.e. bball. Donning the #10 jersey a la Harry Kewell, I naturally equalled his razzle dazzle on the court ... fooling everybody but the referee.

It was a riveting end. I tried to scream so many times but nothing came out of my voicebox. I may have reconsider the answer to the question - would you rather be deaf, blind or mute.

There is no getting around the fact that Viduka is a world class choker. You can't be a striker AND the captain and choke in the most important penalty shootout ever. Don't get me started on Emerton ...

So I went down to the Domain today join the fanfare - joining the bandwagon is a little pathetic but hey, Harry Kewell was going to be there. Check out my pics. Don't ask me for names because I will not be able to supply names. One of them might be Guy Pearce.



Last but not least ... the "yeah yeah" man himself

5 weeks of travelling ... all but a blur

I am back, albeit without a functioning voicebox & a nasty cough. Of course Murphy's Law dictates that this be the only outcome after 5 weeks of reasonably good health - free of diseases and plagues that struck most of the travelling group e.g. diarrhoea, hand disease, extremely irritated skin, gastro etc. I am 'survival of the fittest' personified.

Been pretty cruisy at work going through my 400 emails and delegating all meetings to colleagues due to lack of voice (very effective excuse). It's weird being back home. So much so that ever since coming back, I've had episodes in the middle of the night where I haven't been able to figure out where I was. Fairly scary feeling.

So the last 5 weeks have been pretty awesome. Travelling is such a beast in itself. It really does enrich your life in many ways. It is a true learning experience: the history of a place, the culture, the politics, the art, the language, the architecture, the transport system, the anecdotes, the lives. You also tend to develop a better understanding about yourself and the people around you. No doubt this enlightenment will disappear in a flash when stuck in the confines of 'reality'.

Lots to holiday memories to share - shall leave it for another day. Suffice to say that it was a fantastic month and a bit. Shout outs to the Bubbles the toothless tiger, Nazi the spew cleaner, Shotglass the mugged tourist, Eyebags the Rome advocate, Gaunty the sweet-talker, Flopper the crazy drunk, & Whiteboy hubby the cycling schoolboy.