All you can eat

Dave and I hit Panas last night for bottomless pizza.  Its 50 bucks for allegedly as much pizza as you can irresponsibly consume.  Back in the day, all-you-can-eats, were for the benefit of the consumer.  Its possible that all that consumptive-freedom was abused, and is the cause of the present day situation.  Whatever the case, its now a competition.  A battle.

Each side has a strategy, the battle lines are laid though each side affords the other a shallow degree of respect.  But we all know whats going down.

I had held back on food after lunch - freeing up maximum storage, and Dave arrived in his 'loose fitting pants'.  There was no question of a starter - this is about extracting all the utility you can out of 50 bucks.

The first 15 degree slice hit my stomach like a single fiery arrow into an ocean.  Dave's arrow didn't even touch the water. Then the pause - its no secret that food settles after 10 minutes. This is the core of the caterers defense.  And they play it skillfully.

Following the sacrificial lamb slice and the pause, they hit you with the rush - because they want you to come back next week.  The rush lasts half an hour, and restores your confidence in modern day bargains.  But then it ends, about 2 slices before you break even.  Its the two pieces you would've had for lunch today.

Competitive eating out.  Its a disease - but on a positive note, probably the healthier option.  The variety of pizza also means I eat something with veg on it.  We'll be back Panas, we're not. done. yet.

Washie II

Friday, 5pm, the first of much rubber burning happened.  Home, pack in preparation for the unknown, grab as much food as I could find without embarrasssing myself, notepad to take note of worthy events, warm top because it was night time and some keen'ness - because you need that if you're going to second a Washie runner for 27hrs.

We found dad 20kms into the race.  We almost killed about 10 runners in the process.  More on that another time.  40 runners, at least 60 cars full of seconds, trucks, headlamps and more hazard lights than a set of road works in a nightclub.  Dad didn't look so good, but then it was dark and his team of ninja's (sidebar: reflective clothing is a good idea) were more intereted in sister Julz' samis at this point.

AT 30km's dad realised something that 6 billion people, less 40 runners, had already realised.  Doing 130kms in a car is easier than running it.  Not to say he just stopped running - mother nature, his constitution and a litre of lactic acid teamed up to triple team him.  All us ninja's were very supportive of his decision... maybe a little too supportive.  Love you dad.

Ive lost all respect for the Washie.  Its ridiculous - theres nothing special about it, its just far.  Far doesn't equate to special... theres no TV cameras, crowds or public awareness.  Theres just trucks, dark and ninjas running along the R72 clutching bottles of coke and water.

Siberia

Our digs is pretty sparse.  We've had requests from Siberian immigrants to stay for a night, because they '...miss their homeland...'.  We managed to empty our dining room a month after we moved in, it was a half-way house for CP's recording studio... and my oven... and an inflatable whale called Cheety.  But no underwear.  Problem was, once it was empty... we had nothing to put in it.

The aquisition of a dining room table and chairs has birthed new hope in us; that our house could suck less.  While Nic threatens to buy couches, I'm pursuing some AV.  So the TV is sorted, and now I need a DVD player.

Which is when I stumbled across this gem - the photo in this post - I'm not one to mock people, so Ive obscured anything that none of you would have used to track down the socially awkward, pale, poor postured kid who posted this.  PS2's are also DVD players... and they're cheap... now... and they can play games - which are also cheap.  So I've been trying to source a PlayStation.  This kid obviously just discovered girls.  Lets not harp on the fact that I'm only getting a PS2 now.

I've added a Facebook like button, but I haven't clicked it... so I don't know what happens.  I absolve myself of any awkwardness associated to your friends finding out you read this.

Sun

This week started off with a bit of problem solving.  As is tradition at Oddity, CP got to work this morning and discoverd his workstation had been moved.  Anyone who's worked in an office knows the stress of moving desks; dealing with glare, drafts and people moving around you - there is much to consider when picking a spot.  But he wasn't here, so someone just moved him.  The new location had a nasty 'morning sun on monitor' factor.

Together with Big Boss Ashley, the three of us defined two possible solutions.
1.  Destroy the sun
2.  Stop the sun from coming in the window.

A brief SWOT analysis of each alternative revealed a clear winner and Ashley sourced a sheat of cardboard and an old box.  With the productivity bar set fairly high, it could prove to be a week of substantial graft.

Dad's going to see the doctor today to find out if he thinks its a good idea to run 160km.  I hope the doctor has a good sense of humour.

Washie

Kapow.  Its Thursday.  Arrived at work early this morning and hijacked the foyer sound system.  Deluge - Open up the sky.

My dad's doing the Washie this year.  For the lesser-informed, its a 160km road run from Port Alfred to Slummies.  For the non-runner, thats quite far to run.  Infact, thats quite far to drive.  I wouldn't even take that on on my bike.  I agreed to second him, which involves driving 160km quite slowly... and running next to him when he's battling to stay awake... and sleeping in a car seat when I'm battling to stay awake.  Its also next Friday!  What the flip, I thought I had months of prep time... I guess relative to actually taking part, I don't need to prep.

Feedback from the soccer is streaming in; Hemingways wants us to come back, real teenagers have said words like 'Thank you' and 'I appreciate it' and I hear some of them are still arguing about the refs.  My work here is done.  Good things to come.

Fresh

Today is a fresh start.  Not surprisingly, but still slightly unanticipate'edly, the last 30 days have been painted, luxuriously, with the soccer brush.  Sepp's forces infiltrated our lives, made us ask questions, shout things, and expanded our soccer-watching capacity, which is at an all time high.  I was quite pleased when they added on extra time last night - a mere 90 minutes of game time seemed a little cheap.  I could even have gone for a bit of a shootout on the side.

The Hemingways soccer proved the final 3 nails in the coffin.  Week 3 was a stretch, but a neccessary one.  Like that last pile of chips after a meal - too little without it, but you need to adjust the belt when you've delt with them.  On a net though, what a sick time - totally blessed to be there and worth the cold, wind blown look, to be involved in an outreach with our youth crew.  I dig those okes.

And so, free of soccer, with only Bakkies' cheap shots to look forward to sport-wise, and sky high expectations for our next season of ministry, its time for Monday.

Cooking

When dad, julz and I took over cooking duties, a couple of things changed.  The number of cook-in sauces in the cupboard increased exponentially, rice was reserved exclusively for the dogs food and we went through a period of dish-genocide, written off to ignorance of 'what you can/cant use on a stove' and 'what happens to expensive glass bowls if you pour really hot water into them'.  Yet we emerged, satisfied, full of bread, indebted to Ina Paarman and tomatoe and onion mix.

Thing is, 2 years down the line not much has changed.  Which is problematic.  Ive eaten three things for two years... which could have been worse, if it was the other way around... but a change in direction is urgent.  Ive eaten more boxes of fish than a Norweign fish packer who still has all his fingers.  Had I not been adopted as semi-official DIY guy at a neighbouring safe-harbour of home cooking, I might not have made it.

German supporters might also experience a change in diet shortly.  Calamari sales are expected to rocket in the next few days.

More soccer

Seriously... soccer rules!?  And I don't mean that in the cubicle wall 'Little Johnny rulez... no he sucks... stop adding to my grafitti jerk... you suck... you suck more...' sense.  I mean it in the Suarez sense.  That bottom feeding, unethical, unfortunately competent striker, jerk, 'he has a face i just want to hit, with my fist' -(housemate CP) Uruguayan scum bag.  If rugby had enough sense to invent 'penalty try', why can't soccer just bolt on 'goal', after their attempt at restoring parity after an intentional foul.

That aside.  Go the Dutch!!  The Brazillian coach/male model is going to have to sell his coat - possibly to the German coach/male model, who should take out insurance on his new purchase incase one of Diego's cartel put a hit out on it.  Maradona has got to be the dodgiest looking coach ever... apparently he believes in destiny, not practice.

Soccer culture

I think its fair to assume everyone's watched an unusually large amount of soccer in the last 3 weeks, and more than likely made a lot of comments like 'Ah come on  you little girl...', 'No WAYS man!, GROW UP!!'... etc.  Soccer culture is definitely an aquired taste.

Ive been exposed to the other side of soccer, away from the TV cameras, but within sight of the Hemingways CCTV.  If 'Dirty' Diego Forlan tried his luck in our 3-a-side he'd better hire a bodyguard else our teenage gansters might prove too much.

I also got a shot in the ref seat yesterday, which, if you know anything about my sporting heritage, is pretty unusual - especially considering theres hard cash on the line.  Soccer culture dictates that you disagree with 80% of reffing decisions, and lodge an informal complaint accordingly using your hands, facial expressions and words - where neccessary.  Reffing culture dictates that you never change your mind.  The best I could offer yesterday was  "Its in the past now, get over it!".  Im not sure what ref's say to players when they're whining, but judging by the looks I got in my high chair yesterday, I was on the money...