My early years at school were horrible, mainly because of one boy.  This one boy was at the centre of my hatred because I was the centre of his cruelty. Although he could hardly string an insult together he still managed to make me feel horrible. He was the kind of bully that if you could go back in time and punch him you wouldn’t, because his frame would crush you.

One day in the middle of class he turned to me and without any context said, “At least I can catch a footy.” This sentence shattered my world. His bullying was always physical, but this uncharted leap into intellectualism left me broken.

I feel sorry for him though, he had a hard childhood. His father used to beat him. He did it to toughen up his child and over years of being beaten it did toughen him up. His…

View original post 267 more words

I got some OC, never before seen, material for my fawning footy fans out there.


You know those defining moments you see in teenage sporting movies where, against all odds and all logic, the team is inspired by a single act in a losing game to turn it into victory? It is a common trope, the rise of the weak against the strong; the lucky versus genuine skill. These miracle rallies are so rare cynics doubt their very existence or worth.

But it happened to me.

I was young and weak, and could only be typecast as the dweeb of very little worth. If I was in a movie I would be Goldberg, the goalie in Mighty Ducks, or the early Rocky Balboa. Unfortunately, I exist in reality, and faced a harlequin fantasy. I was dictated to by natural selection rather than luck throughout most of my Rugby League career.


I was structurally unstable, all height with a big head. Built to fall, my team…

View original post 332 more words


receiptWhat is with all this rain lately am I right? And the slight drop in temperature and everything? I don’t want to alarm anyone, but the other day I heard this guy on the corner saying it has something to do with the second coming, and the beginning of the end is upon us.  He told me we should start preparing for the apocalypse, on account of the world is going to flood and there ain’t gonna be enough room on his damn boat for the lot of us. And I don’t know you guys, I am pretty inclined to believe him (he was wearing this authoritative looking crown made of tin foil and everything) but just in case he got it wrong and it is just the beginning of autumn and not the end of time, we should also prepare for that.

I’m not saying stop preparing for the…

View original post 865 more words


kids drinking
pisstandingThe open bar is a curious creature. It is a rare finding for even the most learned of party-goers and heavy drinkers. If you perchance stumble upon one, there is always a bit of ‘theatre’ one must go through. A ritual, if you will, that needs completion for you to enjoy your night. It is the awkward task of getting your first drink.

Everyone who has been to an open bar knows this dance. Someone tells you that the bar is open or the beer is free and you feel celebratory. But then you doubt your source. What if this person was trying to embarrass you? What if they just got a free beer and assumed it was an open bar? And what if their source was bad? It is a funny little trait, doubt. It pervades every thought, needling its way somewhere behind your eyes, unless neverenoughyou curtail it.

View original post 243 more words