Boy, was yesterday a day to end all days or what?

As you might have read in the last post, I’m experiencing a bout of un-wellness. I was feeling better yesterday so I decided to try and knock out some of the things on my to-do list that had continued to grow despite my attempts to ignore it by being sick.

One of those items that had to be done was rearranging my storage room. It seems that all my hacking and coughing has placed an inordinate amount of stress on my back and when I went to left one of my storage trunks my back gave way. I collapsed on the ground praying for the storage gods to rain trunks upon my personage and just end it all right there. Alas, it wasn’t to be. So instead of enjoying the sweet bliss that only non-existence could provide I had to endure quite possibly the most painful experience of my life - some unholy form of muscle spam in my lower back. To put it into perspective, my motorcycle wreck was less painful.

To make a long story short, I wound up taking an ambulance to the emergency room as I was unable to walk. It’s been about 12 hours since I left the hospital and after a morphine shot, two muscle relaxant shots, two Robaxin pills, a Vicadin pill and one gargantuan ibuprofen pill later I feel better. A lot better - I can walk and more importantly go to the bathroom; which is surprisingly difficult when your lower back is out of commission.

Who knew a muscle spasm could hurt so badly?

So in the last two days I’ve been poked, prodded, violated, pin cushioned and examined to death. From this day forward I don’t plan on being sick ever again. If I never see another doctor again, it’ll be too soon.

I feel like crap. Death, even. Actually, I feel like the stuff that Crap just pooped. Who’d have thought that was possible. I surely didn’t. It seems I’m relapsing, reliving my life-death struggle with a bad bout of Iraqnacrap I had a few years ago. Dang it.

Oh, well. Apart from having no memory of yesterday (I slept all but about two hours Sunday) I’m feeling marginally better. Which is a good thing considering I have a couple of medical and dental exams to go through today.

So, it’s my last few hours in Australia and as I sit at the airport I find myself thinking about my experience here. I’ve had a good time. I’ve met a lot of interesting people, ate some interesting things, and in my little sojourn here I even met one of my goals: I have lived and worked on a new continent, Australia.

I spent the entirety of last night finalizing (finalising for you Aussies) my packing and cleaning the abode. While I was doing this I tried to identify the single most unique thing I’d learned over the last 18 months. Despite all that I’ve learned about Project Management and Australian culture in general, the only bit of information I could recall was some random stuff about double flush toilets. Forget cool facts about the weird animals, strange cuisine and the sometimes difficult dialect - it was double flush toilets on my mind.

Here’s the story:

While at a museum in Sydney that celebrated the technical achievements of Australia the guide highlighted an Aussie-made double flush toilet. I can’t recall if it was an Aussie idea meant to save water, or if this was simply the first model (made in Australia) introduced to help conserve water. I suspect it’s the former but I don’t wish to shift credit away from/ or to a wrong individual, nor am I inclined to look up the information because, quite frankly, I don’t care. Needless to say, it was there and was highlighted in the tour. It is also the only kind of toilet you will find here.

For those not familiar with the double flush toilet, here is a description:

It’s a toilet. And no, it’s not a toilet designed to rid your house of the results of a particularly toxic all bean, protein saturated burrito by conveniently flushing twice for each single push on the water accelerating activation lever. It’s a toilet designed to save water. It does this by providing two levers. One that does a half-flush for those non-bean burrito moments and one that does a full flush for those, theoretically, all bean burrito moments.

It’s important to note that I say theoretically because in theory it’s a sound concept. I’m not sure how much water is used during half-flush/ full-flush cycle, but I suspect it’s something along the lines of 250 mL (roughly two thirds of a 12 oz. Coke) for the half-flush and 500 mL for the full-flush (about a 16 oz. Coke). In case you can’t see where I’m going with this I’ll spell it out more plainly. The problem is that it’s never quite enough to rid the world of those toxic waste dump poos that are known to occur during those post burrito moments. It would be much better if you had a FLUSH mode and 1/10th flush mode (roughly equating to the current half-flush).

I realize (realise) that this would consume copious amounts of water in an already drought stricken continent but there are solutions to not having enough water. Australia could trade one tanker full of oil to the US for one tanker full of fresh water. Ya, there we go!

Having said all that one other fact occurs to me which might help explain why they can get away with a full-flush versus a FULL FLUSH. They don’t eat burritos.

So, at the end of the day - Australia has been one fine adventure. Good food, good people and good times. Good on ya, Aussies. I can’t think of a single negative thing to say about it - outside of one thing - it ain’t Texas. Nobody’s perfect.

Still, everyone ought to visit. It’s like Texas, but with funny animals and odd accents. I’m looking forward to my next visit.

Have you ever wondered what made stupid people tick? Unlike an amigo of mine, whose angst glands swell in the presence of stupid people, requiring immediate medical attention, stupid people typically don’t bother me too much. They’re stupid and I don’t worry about them. Until now…

It should come as no surprise to you, my intelligent readership, that high-profile people (read celebrities) tend to think more of themselves that they ought to. It’s one thing for a commoner, like me, to say something stupid. Even my aforementioned amigo has been known to make the occasional gaffe. We understand this and give some measure of allowance to those around us for saying something stupid once and awhile. We all do it. We all know it. But celebrities are above reproach – at least that’s what they would like to believe. So why not hold them to that standard?

While looking for information on the new Transformers movie I stumbled across an interview with one of the actors which included a quote that was, to say the least, rather foolish. I would try to give you a synopsis, but just can’t do it justice so here it is:

From Megan Fox:

The “Transformers” bombshell-cum-uninhibited philosophizer also contemplates — reluctantly — what she would say to Megatron to keep him from destroying the world. “I’d barter with him,” she muses to the July issue Total Film UK, “and say instead of the entire planet, can you just take out all of the white trash, hillbilly, anti-gay, super bible-beating people in Middle America?”

What’s wrong with that statement? Let’s continue the little thought experiment, assuming Megatron is real, to see what the problem is.

I would like to avoid commenting on the multitude of noun-made-adjective-cum-explicatives that were used in her uninhibited statement. Instead, I would like to comment on complete lack of respect for the Transformer Universe which the celebrity seems to not have: in essence negotiating with Megatron.

Here is a brief recap for those not well versed in the Transformer Universe. Megatron, in the story, is the personification of evil: a leader who was absolutely corrupted by his pursuit of absolute power. Opposing him is Optimus Prime who plays the part of the reluctant soldier who had leadership hoisted onto his shoulders due to Megatron’s oppression of Cybertron.

At no time in the story did Megatron ever negotiate anything. At times, he would agree to a truce, but only when his demise was imminent and as an effort to save his own life at the expense of his own people (the Transformers). He showed no loyalty to his own kin (the Decepticons) nor did he ever show any inclination to associate with those who were not his equal – which was to say, no one. Even his own Decepticons were viewed as merely tools to be used, not seen as comrades who held his ideals who were to be taken care of, led, and protected.

Even the most evil people in our own history, for which there are numerous examples, were capable of showing loyalty to those around them. And even those people, despite their ability to reciprocate feelings of love, loyalty and friendship are not to be negotiated with.

So, in our little thought experiment, why on Earth would someone attempt to negotiate with someone like Megatron? And then trade a third of our culture and people in an attempt to placate someone who will not stop at that one concession but will seek to take more.

Sounds an awful lot like the attitude that allowed a despot in the last century to take over a majority of Europe and kill over 6 million people.

Thank goodness Megatron isn’t real and Ms. Fox isn’t a world leader. Or we’d be in a world of hurt.

I once had a pseudo-girlfriend. It would be like in the TV shows - a friend with benefits except without the benefits, but all the responsibilities of the girlfriend with a girl who acknowledges it. Those guys who find themselves trapped in a perpetual friend zone situation know exactly what I’m talking about.

I found myself in a similar situation today, except with a golf ball. We’ll call it pseudo-golf. I had a club, a tee, and even felt as if I was perpetually under the microscope with roughly 6 billion people watching my every move. The club understood that I was going to swing it and likewise the golf ball knew that it was about to be hit (sort of) in the general direction of the green. The only thing missing, you ask? A green, I answer.

Yes, I found myself at an indoor driving range this evening. So Adelaide has an indoor firing range, an indoor driving range and a City Beach with no water, only sand (which I suppose equates to beach). I’m really starting to think we do live upside down here.

All in all it was a good pseudo-golf game. We’ll have to do that again.

Ever had your breath taken away as the result of some non-self-inflected blow to your personage? Today, I received just such a concussion in the form of a .50AE caliber Desert Eagle. And I only have two words to describe the experience:

Holy cow!

Here are some of my insights after shooting this behemoth:

The bullets were slightly smaller than a howitzer shell. The gun weighed in excess of 47,000 lbs and propelled me backwards at speeds approaching escape velocity. The concussion shattered anything within it’s sphere of influence (which I’m surprised does not include the remote monastaries of Nepal).

Other observations include: I have no more teeth. They were Desert Eagled into submission and shattered when the recoil went from the gun, through my arm, blurred my vision and finally had no place else to go once they hit my teeth.

Dude, I ate [part of] the world’s largest schnitzel. This thing was the size of a small third world nation. In short, I’m full. Fully than full, even.

We head back to Brisbane tomorrow. I can’t wait to get back - even for a little bit. Always nice to get back to the psuedo-home and sleep in my own psuedo-bed.

That is all.

So, I really have nothing to say here; just wanted to update everyone on the goings on across the Pacific puddle.

We went back to the gun range today. I did better, for a while. My first clip (with the Glock 9mm) was grouped around the bulls eye. A real ego boost so I moved the target back. Ya, ought not have done that. I think I hit everyone else’s target except mine. Next, I moved to the 45 and while I had a relatively tight group all 50 shots were low and to the right - but they were all together with my consistantly aiming for the center.

All in all, it was good fun. We had an extra person join us from the office - it seems I’ve bestowed the virtures of target practice on two Aussies. One of them is going to apply for a hand gun license. He won’t get to purchase a gun for another 6 months, once the license is issued, but he wants to get a 357 magnum. They have some M1911’s coming in next month so if I’m still here I want to go shoot those for a bit.

Word is my new cell phone has arrived at the house. Looking forward to playing with my new toy.

That is all.

So, today I did something that I hadn’t done before - at least in Australia. I went to an indoor gun range.

Last week, during a walk after work, my co-worker happened upon an indoor gun range. Today we decided we’d swing by to give it a go. They had a special package you could purchase allowing you to fire four different hand guns: a Ruger .44 Mag, Ruger .357 Mag, Glock .45 semi-automatic, and a Glock 9mm semi-automatic. All in all it was an interesting experience. I’d never shot a mag round before or a double action revolver. It was neat to see how your accuracy with the revolver changed when either pulling the hammer back or just pulling the trigger.

Next on the agenda - the Walther PPK.

Looks like I have another item to add to my budget.

Here are the pics from the 2009 Sydney Muster.