Kevin The Brave

Well, sports fans better fill you in on recent events:

Wall Street fell apart.

SJ lost his job.

Wall Street got better.

SJ got another job.

Wall Street fell down again.

SJ got another, other job.

Wall Street ran away and joined the navy where it realized it could love other men without being a homo.

SJ finds itself with a better, easier, less stressful job closer to home and for more money. Hell, I save at least $80/week on fuel. And possibly a second, sub-contract job which pays even better. We shall see. As Jutratest once wisely said, God has a plan. By God he meant Alyssa Milano. He’s had a thing for her since Who’s The Boss.

However my old company - which did not crash and burn but rather trundled along like a garbage truck on fire rolling down a gentle slope until it just stopped there, smoking slightly – still owes me close to ten grand in unpaid wages and other benefits which I am not likely to ever see.

Maybe GWB could bail me out. I hear he’s giving away money. The Australian Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, is in New York at the moment going around agreeing with people and delivering speeches to a half empty UN gathering. He’s all for the bail-out. It’s not his money. Hell you could buy Australia for 800 billion if you threw in some free steak knives.

What do you expect from a leader named ‘Kevin’? Kevin The Brave, that’s him. Firmly on the side of GWB or Popular Opinion, whichever is easiest.

I’m sorry I called you sports fans earlier. Maybe you hate sports. Perhaps you prefer the term enthusiast. I shouldn’t assume.

with joy on my shirt

Mother koala on the road tonight, little wee baby on its back. Baby kangaroos hopping across the road in the mornings, sparrows trying to nest here in the laboratory. The government declared spring began on September 1st and damn it if the critters didn’t listen. Marsupials are very civic minded.

Real team players, the pouched ones. They delegate well and work cohesively as a pro-active unit within their defined roles. That’s not to say they enjoy role-playing. For that they need to be forced. It’s hard to get them to wear the boots.

There is a little cafe in the village run by a lovely women whom I have known for some years. She will not wear the boots either, however she has a burger named after me, which I think is a far better endorsement on one’s character than any medal or parchment paper. It is a bacon-cheese-mushroom burger by the way, which Australians think I invented. It had not occurred to them to combine these ingredients before since none of them are pickled beet-root.

And now it has been announced P3 will be working there part-time. Oh joy doth burst from my heart and runneth down my shirt. P3’s first job only five minutes from home, with someone I know, who cooks great lasagne and names burgers after me.

Yes government-declared spring has sprung, the light is clearer. The air is warmer. I smell mushrooms.