We're So Rich Right Now

Work has gotten off to an insanely busy start this week, hence the delay in my blogging. Friday night was actually pretty quiet anyway, due to me skipping after work drinks and agreeing to see Definitely, Maybe instead of having a big night out.

This was mostly in order to preserve my energy for Saturday, which was Sesame's farewell cruise on the harbour. About 25 of us piled onto a lovely little boat and enough booze to last each of us a few hours. The first couple of hours were pretty mellow, and mostly involved me laying on the sun bed on the front of the boat.

Around hour 3, however, we decided it was time to take control of the music, and we ended up having something of a hip-hop dance party, with an interlude from some Belgian family and friends of Sesame's who did an impromptu performance to "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys. We're pretty sure no one on the shore who could hear us was particularly impressed, and I apparently saw some small children and yelled something along the lines of "HEY KIDS, ONE DAY YOU'LL BE DRUNK IN BROAD DAYLIGHT TOO!" Gotta give the little ones something to look forward to, I always say.

We then ended up at the Tilbury where I think I lasted less than 3 hours before I was far too drunk to be in public and had to be escorted home (with a stop off at Curry Junction on William Street, of course).

Sunday was simply spent at Coogee beach, laughing about what assholes we'd all been the day before, and trying to figure out when our next opportunity to make people hate us will come along. We're pretty sure that's next weekend.

Hide Your Loved Ones

I don't think I mentioned anything about Saturday night, but it was pretty much one big mess that was inevitable from the moment me and Fry decided we'd start drinking vodka at 5pm.

I'd mostly forgotten about it (I'm sure the majority of brain cells involved were promptly annihilated by Absolut), until I got this instant message from Duffman the other day:

"Dude, what the hell did you do to my wife?"


I assume he's referring to her rushing home at 11pm to vomit for over an hour, but I take no responsibility.

It's Funnier When Other People Don't Get It

I realize that since I'm on the other side of the world, everyone else has probably been perusing this "new" site for weeks, if not months, however I was just today exposed to the hilarity of the blog "Stuff White People Like".

It may not be the best of the racial satire site genre (pioneered, at least in my mind, by Black People Love Us!), but as with all of these sorts of sites, the real entertainment comes from reading the comments and feedback. Your choice of respondents is the following:

#1) People who are horribly offended that anyone would think this is funny, and say things like "Just IMAGINE if someone did a website called Stuff Black People Like?!?! It would be an OUTRAGE!!!"

#2) The ones who just don't get it, and respond along the lines of "Uh...but I'm white, and I don't have a waffle iron. Do you have any statistics on this?"

#3) All the rest of us who are basically just laughing at types 1 and 2, because we know that in the end, the real joke is on them.

Well Compared To Them, I'm Not Doing That Badly

Friday spelled disaster from the moment someone scheduled a farewell lunch for a colleague starting at 12.30 and maybe ending at 3pm. I, of course, ignored all of the warning signs, and immediately started ordering bottles of wine.

Once 3 rolled around and most people were heading back to the office, I bribed a few others into coming to another bar with me with promises that I would buy a bottle of champagne for us.

So you can imagine my condition when I ended up back in the office at 4, since we had a 4.30 meeting to attend. A few of my antics:

• Sending an email to the team about Jem and the Holograms (it had been a topic of conversation at lunch) and including a link to the theme song on YouTube for the unfortunate young ones who weren't familiar
• Upon reading ANOTHER farewell email from a colleague (that makes three people resigning in the past month) I sent a mock farewell email to the team as well along the lines of "Farewell...I'm leaving at 5.30, see you on Monday." I promise, it was funny at the time. Not so much in the retelling.
• Knocking a whole bottle of beer over on my desk while on the phone with a client, leaving one of my coworkers to clean up the mess while I concetrated my hardest on not slurring.
• Hijacking the 4.30 meeting to lecture our firm partner on why we can't stand her ring tone, and the rules for choosing a new one (the most important rule being that I needed to approve it in the future)

There was more, but eventually we ended up at the pub downstairs, and I dragged along a number of people who had no plans to go out after work. As I was completely wasted, I headed home a little after 9, but apparently a couple of coworkers managed to get frisky with each other and head out together a little after midnight.

So in reflection, I think my behavior was unprofessional and appalling, but at least I didn't bang anyone I work with, which overshadows my own misdeeds.

Show's over, Synergy.

It's A Lonely Road

The dreaded V-day is here again, and I'm possibly even less in the spirit than I was last year. As I struggle to remember the last time I actually had a Valentine, I've decided that I think it's rather insensitive and obnoxious for people who are in happy relationships to wish single people a Happy Valentine's Day, unless they're responding to the sentiment. It just seems like really obvious etiquette to me, considering today has gone from a day when people used to tell their crush they liked them (how very high school) to a day when single people are even more bitter about their status than usual.

Not that I don't love being single, and I'm not too upset about the fact that I won't be dropping hundreds of dollars on dinners, flowers and gifts, but you know some part of you has to feel a little left out of it all.

Hence, my Scrooge status today when I walked into the office:

Coworker (who has been in her relationship for over three years): Happy Valentine's Day!

Zander: Screw you.


She still isn't talking to me, but I think it's more important that she learned her lesson.

Consistency Is Good...Kinda

So Monday night drinks were awesome, although I found myself having to go home by 10pm if I would have any chance of functioning on Tuesday. And I took last night off from the booze because it looks like I might be in for 5 straight nights of serious liver damage.

I'm sure there are stories, but I don't have time to type them because I've agreed to skip the last hour of work today and head to the pub to meet some friends.

In the meantime, whatever happens, can we please make sure that Skeletor here isn't elected to be the newest President of the US? It's still better than the circus chimp we have in office, but I'd like to aim a little higher.

Eternal Sunshine of the Alcoholic Mind

Just had one of those weekends that was just full enough of unnecessary drama and bullshit that I would be more than happy to forget that it ever occurred. Unfortunately, I live in reality and can't do anything about it, so the cure is clearly to meet up with Busty and Brett for drinks tonight. The last time I met these two at this same bar, I fell down the stairs on the way out. Let's see if I can stay on my feet this time.

DRUNK.

It's a little after 3pm on a Friday and I am already wasted. It was Mickey's last day at work so we went to celebrate our jealousy with a few bottles of wine over two and a half hours. The best part is that I came back to the office with minutes to spare before we start drinking for our weekly meeting, which is always a blast.

I'd write more but considering it took me around 4 minutes just to log into Blogger just now, it's probably best I stop typing and fill you in when sobriety sinks in...on Monday. I love this country.

Filter Malfunction

Maybe it was the two nights in a row of heavy drinking that preceded Saturday, but I went into this weekend having completely forgotten how to filter the things that come out of my mouth. Here are a few from the past 48 hours...

Zander: I've always wanted to get shot.
Duff: What? Like...with a gun?
Zander: Yeah. Not, like, to death. And not anywhere important. My right shoulder is my top choice. Not close to too many important organs.
Fry: Why do you want to get shot?
Zander: It would be kinda cool. Like a badass story. And the scar would be so hot.
Fry: What is wrong with you? I'm pretty sure it would hurt. Like, a lot.
Zander: Yeah, of course. But it would be cool.
Duff: You're such an idiot.
Zander: You're just jealous cause I thought of it first.

That conversation actually happened on a crowded train. Apparently a woman a couple of seats away was trying desperately not to laugh out loud, while the girl reading a book next to me eventually just put it down and stared at me like the freak that I am. (There was also a comment later on in the afternoon about how I'd love for a lesbian couple to ask for my sperm to get pregnant, but since it was with three good friends and no one else in the vicinity, I don't count it as being that bad.)


The next day I was at a BBQ with a group of friends plus a few people I hadn't met before when we had this conversation:

Zander: God, I just can't stand being around ugly people.
Fosse: You are awful. What if you had an accident and ended up deformed?
Zander: I'd kill myself.
Mickey: That's what my friend Lois says.
Zander: Lois? But she's not even that cute.


And to go for the triple play, the following was from this morning when I walked into the office:

Big Boss: Hey, Zander, is that another shirt from Europe?
Zander: Why? Does it look that euro trashy?
Big Boss: No, I didn't say that. I was actually going to follow that up with a compliment, but--
Zander: That's okay, I know I look good.


So basically I should really avoid being in contact with anyone until I'm over my little mood, however I have plans to do dinner and drinks at a friend's place tonight and I think I might just need a few more gems to finish getting this out of my system.

Call Me A Prude, But...

...does anyone else find the results of this CNN poll rather disturbing?


The thing that concerns me the most about the whole thing is that they don't even tell you how much money you would get, which I believe clearly has to be stated in a question like this. Actually, it should have been multiple choice, with people honestly giving the lowest amount of money they would do it for. Otherwise, I am left to infer that 52% of the population would model nude for a couple hundred dollars. I personally wouldn't do it for less than $10,000, but I doubt anyone would really pay more than a few bucks to get a glimpse of my wang.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


In drunken idiot news, after a year and a half of turning down invitations and saying "maybe next time", I finally went along to Thursday night hip hop at Sapphire in Kings Cross. While I love hip hop, and it's not particularly common here, I am simply not a fan of partying on a school night, at least not past 10pm or so, which is when we arrived at the club. This time though, it was Sesame's birthday at midnight, AND she's leaving Sydney in a few weeks time, so I really didn't have any excuses.

Killing a bottle and a half of vodka at her place before even leaving for the club probably wasn't the best idea we've ever had, but at least it made for some great photos, which you can see here. Apologies for the lack of captions, but I'm way too hungover to come up with anything, and the ridiculous and obvious progression of drunkeness through the evening speaks louder than any words I could write.