Once again, I got somebody else’s voicemail on my mobile phone. I keep getting phone calls for a guy named John from Sydney. The problem is, all his friends seem to have speech disabilities as they’re terribly difficult to understand. I think he got offered a job today, which is really bad. I wish I could contact John somehow, and actually it probably wouldn’t be that hard, his number is surely only one or two digits off mine.
This reminds me of an ad parody on one of the You Don’t Know Jack games called “Press 8 To Donate”. It’s a fake charity where you can press 8 on your mobile to send your unwanted voicemail to people who never get phone calls. (“I don’t know why you want me to come to a meeting at 9am tomorrow, but I love you, random voice!”)
I got the latest You Don’t Know Jack game imported from the US in the mail today. For some reason the Australian distributors aren’t bringing the games out here any more, so I’m forced to buy it from the states. Now here’s a scary thought: I ordered the game on Thursday night from the net and it arrived today. This means it’s quicker for a parcel to get delivered from America to Torquay here in Australia, than it is for a letter to get delivered from Geelong to Torquay, which is only 15 minutes drive. It’s that evil crescent-moon in the Australia Post logo again, I swear… and I don’t care what anyone says anymore, it’s not a P, it’s two moons.
There’s a new Baker’s Delight store that’s opened here in Torquay and the whole town has gone bread mad. I don’t understand the excitement, I mean it’s good bread, but, uh, it’s bread. People don’t normally need this much bread, I don’t think. My mum has gone dough psycho and has bought all sorts of odd breads and rolls that I didn’t even know did/should exist. Now we have to try and eat it all.
Speaking of eating things too much, I realised that almost every time I buy lunch at work (every second day it seems), I buy a Chiko Roll. I don’t think this is a good thing. It could lead to the hard stuff, like Spam.
Also, I had an interesting conversation with Ant, my friend from work at lunch today…
Ant (completely out of the blue): I reckon being set on fire would be one of the worst things in the world.
Me: ??
Ant: You know. If you were engulfed in flames. That’d be pretty bad.
Me: …..uh, yes?
Ant: I’d really hate to have that happen to me. It’d really hurt.
Me: Um?
Eventually it transpired that he was talking about this because he got sunburnt really bad on the weekend, and we’d been sitting in the sun at the time of this conversation, and it was irritating him. And I thought my train of thought was completely screwed.