Public Service Announcement, Vol. 1
If you are some teenager, who dropped out of high school, because you stuffed around to much, listen up.
Walking around with your mates, wearing overalls, does not give you the right to call me "Luv", "Darls", "Sweetie", "Missus" or any other kind of stubbie shorts wearing, arse crack showing, "I'll be there Thursday to fix it", Dodger eating, kind of remarks you would expect from a 40 year old, who should know better.
So don't think you can then tell me "I will smack your head in bitch." When I say to you to zip your lip and grow up before you learn to talk. Just because your mother calls you "Luv" doens't mean you can trash talk me when you are out with your mates.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
I can do photos!
Hi Lawn Mowers, and other non gardening tools,
As you can see from my earlir post about Paul Hester, I can now add photos to my blog. THis service is provided from the wonderful people at FLIKR.
So here is the photo that appears on my Yahoo Profile:
It was taken a few months ago, when I spent a couple of days down a friends house in Maffra. For some reason, I get a lot of interest from guys, mainly located in the Middle East. I don't know if it is something they see in me, or something they see in the chicken. Either way I don't like the interest.
It is a strange thing that guys do on the net. They see a photo of a girl, and for some reason think they can make all kinds of lewd suggestions, and ask you to marry them, all with out even buying you a drink first. Heck most of them can't even start with a simple "Hello", and then get really offended if you reject them. What ever happened to getting to know people?
Let me make it simple to all the guys out there. There is a lot to know about me, but if you don't ask, I wont tell, and I wont say a thing to you, if you are rude to me. What ever happened to simple conversation?
Blog Out,
HooRoo,
Bec
Science Experiment
Hi Test Tubers, and others who prefer to drink form a propper glass.
Last Wednesday night, I decided to do some experimenting. No animals were hurt, I'm saving that for next time. This was more of a wet run.
After finishing up at Comedy for the night, I made my way home full of energy, and decided to try something.
Back dating a little, a while ago I got myself a pair of Converse Chuck Taylors. I use to wear these shoes a lot, when I was in my youth, and I thought they would be cool to have again. My issue is the only pair I could get in my size were blue. Needless to say, I didn't wear them too much, as they clashed with everything.
So, forward dating a bit, but not up to the current (What the?) the footwear of choice is the Chuck, and after going shopping with Andy a while ago, I thought I would give my Chucks another go. Only hassle, they were still blue, so back on the shelf they went.
Anyway (finally) I get to last Wednesday, which by now has become Thursday, because it was so late in the night. I was heading off bush to see some friends for a few days, and I decided to scare the locals by looking like a bit of a circus freak, not hard to do at my height. My choice of clothing required me to wear the Chuck Taylors, but not blue ones.
Into a bucket of bleach and hot water, the shoes went. I decided to belach them and see what happened. As long as they were not blue at the end of it all, I would wear them. About 40 minutes later, I pulled the out of the water and I was surprised to see what I saw.
To my amazement, the Chucks had turned pink! I couldn't believe my luck, it was the bestest result I could have wished for, my Chucks now ROCK! All I had to do was get them dry for the morning, a challenge, but one that was solved with a hair dryer.
So if anyone is thinking about doing the same, I used Home Brand lemon scented bleach. I don't know if the lemon scent makes any difference, but it worked for me.
As more adventures unfold with these shoes, I will let you know, until then.
Blog Out,
HooRoo
Bec
Vale Paul Hester
I stole this photo from ninemsn.
I woke this morning to hear of the passsing of Paul Hester.
Paul is best known as the drummer of Split Enz and Crowded House. There are heaps of sites out there if you are after all the info on him.
I worked with Paul, only for a couple of days many years back. He was a great guy, very friendly, and loved life. I miss him.
One Show Only!
Hi Cooking Utensils, and other non-stick things,
Well I was a good gril last night, but that is not what this post is about. The thing I was a good girl for is, I let Andy get home and do his post first about the really cool night that was had by all last night.
For those of you who don't know, around six months ago, Andy said to me "Hey on Wednesday nights, I do comedy workshops, blah, blah, blah,... want to come along?" So along I went. Now I've been on stage beofre, no issue there, and I have written comedy before, so no issue there. What I hadn't done is combine the two, because of the simple reason, as a stand up comedian, I'm crap. Good thing Improv is different.
So last night as we did the workshop, at the end of our session, which was being run by Nigel from The Crew, it is put to us to do a spot that night. Now I didn't really jump at the chance, it was more of a case that I was slow at getting out of the room, and so I agreed, thinking, well it is the first time it has been done, so no matter how crap we (meaning me) are, it will still be fun.
The first game we played was titled, "The Die Ron Die", in which you take the song "A Do Ron Ron Ron" and sing about peoples names. If you screw up, everyone in the audience shouts "DIE" and you are out. I was not particularly looking forward to this game, because I suck big time at it. Imagine my surprize when I KICKED ARSE AND WON THE GAME!!! Ok, so that last bit was a bit of an ego trip for me, but I was still the last person standing, which was a shock to all.
The next game was called "Party Quirks", where someone is having a party, and they have no idea of who is invited. The party attendees are given suggestions from the audience, and they act that out, hoping the host can work things out. In the game, Andy was the magazine Cosmo, Lue was a Push Up Bra, and I was an online game of chess. Obviously the person who came up with that idea, doesn't get out of the house much.
The game went really weel, and wasn't stretch out too much, which was pretty good, given we were doing it for real for the fisrt time, and we got a few laughs, which is an excellent bonus.
Finally the night was finished off by by Simon and Rob playing a game called Rollercoaster, where they act out a scene, but have suggestions thrown at them about emotions, accents, and movie genres, as they go along. Their scene was about a Chicken Shop Hospital. I will leave it all up to you to guess what happened from there.
So would I do it again? Well unlike the title of this blog entry, I will be back for a return perfomance. If I do it again next week, I'll have the glory, and the right to wear my underpants on the outside, because I will have been a part of an International Comedy Festival act.
Blog out,
HooRoo
Bec
PS: This is my first attempt at putting links in a post, I hope it works. Next goal is a photo.
What the hell was that last post about?
Hi Telephone cord twirlers, and other non-communicative devices,
As you wall would have seen, my last post was a test to see if sending apost from my email worked. As you can see it did work, only two weeks after I sent it and all screwed up!
So please disregard what was written, is is nonsense, and doesn't fit into the meaning of this blog. hang on, this blog has a meaning? Bugger I am getting too serious.
In other news, I had a dream last night that I was working as a waitress in an old abandoned house, that was being used as a Japanese Resturant.
There was only two tables, and one guy kept trying to order some long winded named bottle of Japanese wine, that had about 40 letters in the English translation of the name.
The other table had a guy sitting on it who just kept looking at me all night, and I was blushing. I think he may have been someone who reads my blog. Mmmm, that should get you all thinking.
Blog Out,
HooRoo,
Bec
Reaching out
If it doesn't show up, then you know that I really don't exist.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Hi Leaflet deliverers and other No Junk Mailists,
Well here I am still learning HTML, in the best way I know... while
wearing my PJs in the middle of the day.
Actually this is just me crapping on to see if posting via email works,
this is really just a test, but simply putting TEST TEST TEST into an
email is soooo yesterday.
Now to really try and push things, here is a photo me.
Cooking with Bec, Vol.2
Hello A4ists, and other non conforming paper sizes,
Well it has been suggested to me that I write an adventurous recipe, so here goes.
The Incredibly Amazing Melba Toast Saga!
For this recipe, you need to be entertaining people, sitting at home eating melba toast is not only sad, but means you really should do somethng with your life.
The background story on Melba Toast is that in 1823 a Frenchman, working for an Icelandic company in lower Botswania. Hey who said globalisation was a new thing? Anyway, I digress. One day as he was working on a project to invert coconuts, so you didn't have to go through the hard shell to get to the milk and cookies, he accidently forgot that he had left the toast in the toaster. Conditions were pretty bad, with no electricity in the area, so his toaster was powered by a monkey on a bicycle. Needless to say the monkey wasn't very good at pedelling, and the toaster never got too hot.
Later that night, the Frenchman, checked his toaster and found the toast had shrunk down to a little tiny bit. He was amazed at what you could do with this small toast, apart from eating it, you could use it to tile the floor in your bathroom, as a deck of playing cards, or to replace the simcard in your mobile phone. He named this toast in honour of the monkey, whose name was Barry, but he thought Melba had a better ring to it for marketing purposes.
But enough of the history, here are just a couple of examples of things I put on Melba Toast, a list that may grow in the future.
Cream Cheese and Sundried tomatos.
This is an easy one, just get some Cream Cheese, put a nice big dollop of it on the toast, and add a bit of Semi Sundried Tomato to it. THe tomato may need to be cut up a little to fit it on the toast, but it looks nice, and tastes pretty good.
Paprika and Egg, with Capsicum.
Another simple one, Boil a coulple of eggs, and then mash them with the paprika, the same way you wuold make curried egg. A little bit of lemon pepper also goes well in this mix. Then top with diced capsicum, a good mix of different coloured capsicum helps for the presentation.
Seafood Melba.
This one is also simple, just a little bit of prep time is needed. What you do is get a tin of crab meat, and add Thousand Island Dressing, until it is a nice mix, not too dry and not to runny. put nice dollops of this on the toast, then add a shrimp or prawn to the top. Finish off with some finely chopped Dill.
Well that should do you all for starters. Happy Cooking.
Until we next blog,
Blog Out.
HooRoo
Rebecca
PS: Sorry I forgot this was meant to be an adventure. All this was done while being chased by ninja's down an old mine shaft.
What hour of the day is it?
Hi Subliminalists, and others who just don't get the messege,
Well it was a typical weekend for me, just like any other day, only this time my body clock seemed to have swiched off completely. Mmmm, I'll give you all the details.
Friday: Awake at 4am for work, start work at 2pm, get home from work at 11pm, stuffing around the house until 3am, decide I should go to bed.
Saturday: Slept in until 7am, got up and stayed in my PJ's all day, to see what a lazy day is like. Not bad, I think I will do it again some time. Finally go to bed at 2am
Sunday: Awake at 6:30am to go do my volunteer work. Some friends call into the Museum and ask me to their house for dinner that night. It is just up the road form the museum, about 40km away, so I go. We have a great night chatting, and eating marshmellows (I'm a naughty girl I know). I finally leave there about 12:30am, and drive home, getting home at 2am. On to the computer with heaps of work to do, finally look at the clock that says 5am, and think, mmm, should go to bed.
Monday: Awake at 8am to get to Geelong for a meeting, surprisingly feeling quite well, despite not much sleep for days. After a big day of running around, I go to bed at 8pm, to get some sleep before work on Tuesday.
Tuesday: I beat the alarm, getting up at 2:45am, instead of the alarm annoying me at 3:30am. Now finally it is just after 8:30pm, and I am going to bed. Still not tired. Oh well, I can only try.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Rebecca
PS: My friends in Seymour are not a figment of my imagination, they are real people, I just protect the names of the innocent unless they want their 15 nanoseconds of fame, via my blog.
What if...."Smurfs Had Blogs"?
Smurf One (S1): Hi Blogger Smurfette. Blogged any good blogs lately?
Smurfette (SE): Hi Blog Smurf. I've been blogging the blog down by the blog, what about you?
S1: Oh you know me, just blogging around.
SE: You should blog up and blog some blog, you really look like you could use a good blog.
S1: What are you trying to blog?
SE: Oh nothing. There you go again, always blogging a blog and blogging off half blogged.
S1: Blog you! Blog!
SE: Well blog you too, you blog, I know what you get upto you blogging blogger.
S1: Go blog yourself blog!
Eureka, I can talk!
Hi Whiteboard markers, and other non xylene products,
I can talk again! Yay for me, although I am doing a pretty good impersonation of John Laws, at least I know I can talk. After a few glasses of Orange Juice, and a bowl of Weeties with Grapes and Pears, My voice was sort of getting back to normal, excpet for the massive head cold which was making me sound like some weirdo creature from a Doctor Who episode, Series 4 I would say, trying not to be too specific.
Well with my voice back, I could catch up on some of the phone calls I needed to make. First of all I setled my discrimination case with my bank, they are paying me some money, and slapping the wrist of the fool who was an arsehole me. Others were even more boring and I wont bother blogging them.
Then it was off to do my weekly shopping, the car started, thankfully, yay for me, I can do some work on it. After a quick tour of the shops, I got home, realising I had forgotten a few things (my brain is still not in top gear) and then back home for a big cook up.
I decided to make up a heap of stuff I could freeze, because of my work roster over the next two weeks, it works out better this way, so on the menu were the following delights. If anyone wants a recipe, let me know, and I will include it in a future post.
The menu: First up was a simple Chicken Stir-fry with Hokkien Noodles. I say simple because where I am living now has no wok burner on the stove, so I can't get enough heat out of the dang thing.
Second was Beef Chow-Mein, no it is not a big asian cook up, I was trying out a new electric frypan. Well the frying pan is not that new, it was donated to me (I also accept cash) and after spending half an hour cleaning it, I had to get it dirty.
Next on the list was Lambs Fry, yes I know, gross out, but it is a nice thing to have every now and then, and I have to keep my iron levels up.
All in all I had a nice feed up, just having small dishes from each and freezing the rest. To top it all off, I also did a chicken garden salad, and for desert watermelon with frozen yoghurt. So a nice 5 course feed for a Thursday night, before collapsing in front of the television to watch The Footy Show.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
What to do when you are sick
Hi Quokka lovers, and others less perverted.
Dateline Last Tuesday:
I woke up this morning, looking forward to the weekend (yes I shift work, hence Tuesday was my weekend), a day that was to be taken up with phone calls, and recording a voice over. Ohh how quickly a day can change.
A song I like came onto the radio, so I went to sing along. Whoa hang on, where did my voice go? I looked all around the house, checked under the seat, looked in the last place I used it, and nothing, nunna, zippo, zilch. I'd lost my voice.
So off to my doctor I went, and as an untrained monkey could have told me, I have laryngitis, and prety bad too. What the untrained monkey couldn't have done for me was give me a medical certificate for three days off work. Well it worked out to two days actually because I already had the Tuesday off.
So what was I to do for the rest of the day? I discovered something called television. Now I do know what television is, I just don't watch it. But for some reason I managed to "vege out" in front of the box for the rest of the day, and not do a damn thing. The only hassle I had was my home phone which never rings, decided to go frantic with calls. How the hell could I answer them? So what I did was set up my MAC with a comment which said "Hi, you have called Rebecca. I have Laryngitis and cant' talk. Can you call back another day or wait for me to type a response into the MAC to answer your questions." I then held the phone near the speaker and let the PC do the talking, eat your heart out Steven Hawkings!
Wednesday morning, when I finally woke up ufter going into snooze mode a few times, the first thing I did was try to talk. Oh why did I bother, still mute. So I did what any girl who can't talk did, I went shopping. I'm telling you girls, this is a really weird thing to do when you have no voice, and very fustrating. Mind you it can be turned into a lot of fun by getting sales staff to run around trying to work out what you want (yeah I had my PDA, so I could have written it down, but this is more fun), before you walk out of the store because you were "just looking".
After getting home, I decided to try my hand at motor mechanics, being sick does weird things to me. I had gotten a manual for "HotBox" (my car) a little while ago, because the weewee man wasn't putting water on the windscreen. As you can see by my use of the technical term "weewee man" I have a sound knowledge of motor mechanics.
After doing what I believe to be called "Tinkering" for a few hours, I had changed the oil, changed some other kind of oil (gearbox I think), cleaned out the radiator, and then realised just how much grease and oil was under my fingernails, so gave up on doing anything else, and went inside to clean it all off. You will all be happy to know, the car is still working.
At this point, I can't be bothered posting anymore, so I'm going.
Until we next blog,
Blog Out.
HooRoo
Rebecca
How to buy a ticket
Hi City Link users, and those who don't have a car that goes beep!
Well as some of you know, I work in public transport. A little while ago I was a naughty girl, and I have now been enduring station work for a while. Because of the Grand Prix in Melbourne, I've been moved to a busier station, where I am selling tickets. But enough about me, this post is about you, or more importantly the morons who get around amoungst the idiots, whoget around amoungst the dumb arses. I think that pretty much includes everyone.
Here is the typical way a dialogue goes for a ticket sale, "I" meaning person who wants a ticket, or idiot. "R" meaning me, Rebecca:
R: Hi, can I help you?
I: I'd like a ticket.
R: Sure, what kind?
I: For the train.
R: Well where do you want to go to?
I: Oh I'm just going home.
R: Well unless you live at a station, which is the closest one to your home?
I: Oh sorry, I'm going to Mitcham. [note random station name used here, not all people from Mitcham are idiots]
R: Are you going to travel again after that today, or are you just going to Mitcham and that is it?
I: Nah, I'm just going home.
R: OK, that's a Zones 1&2, 2 hourly, full fare. $5.10
I: Umm, ok, here you go. [hands me a $50 note or higher denomination]
R: [prints ticket] Here is your change, $44.90, and your ticket. [idiot looks at ticket]
I: What are you doing charging me full fare, I have a concession.
R: Well you didn't tell me you had a concession, hand that ticket back and I will change, it. Do you have your concession card on you?
I: Here you go [shows school id card]
R: This card doesn't entitle you to a concession, you need a Victorian Student Concession Card.
I: You're just a f*#%ing bitch, everyone else accepts it.
R: Well you have two options here, take the full fare ticket, or no ticket.
I: I'm going to report you for this.
R: Please do, I am happy for you to report that I am doing my job correctly, would you like the contact details of where to send the feedback too?
I: F@$&k you bitch, f^!*k you!
R: Thank you, [next person] Hi can I help you?
I2: Hi, I'd like a ticket....
As you can see people have no idea. Now if you average the average (Huh?) ticket price to be $5, yesterday I sold about $7000 worth of tickets in an 8 hour shift. That amounts to about 1400 idiots I had to deal with in the day.
So here is my plea. Have a Metcard ticket machine installed in your bedroom. When you get up in the morning, try to purchase a ticket from it. If you can't do that, go back to bed, the world doesn't deserve to have you in it's existance.
Blog out,
HooRoo
Bec
Cooking With Bec. Vol 1
Hi Everybody and those with missing limbs,
Well in todays blog, something a little different, we're going cooking.
For those of you not quite up with what a kitchen is, we are going to start off with something easy, a Boston Bun.
The Boston Bun gets its name from times not too long ago, when the frozen bodies of homeless people, were picked up in the Boston area by local council workers. Often these people had fallen out of the trees they lived in, and ended up face first, bum up in the snow. With fresh snow covering their brown stained clothes, as they lay, the idea was spurred for a wonderful afternoon tea. As it is quite hard to get the mixture to rise in the shape of a skyward bound anus, the name was changed to Boston Bun, instead of Boston Bum. But enough of the history, lets get cooking.
Ingredients
2 Cups of Self Rasing Flour
1 Cup of Mashed Potato
1 Cup of Sugar
1 Cup of Dried Fruit
1 Cup of Milk
Cinnomon to taste (about 1 table spoon)
Firstly combine the Flour and Sugar in a mixing bowl. Then add in the mashed potato, until a nice thick paste forms. Then add in the milk, and finally the Dried Fruit and Cinnamon. Mix it all to a nice consistancy.
Preheat an oven to about 180 degree C. Grease a high sided baking tin, and tip in the mixture. Place in oven.
Cooking time takes about 2 hours. To test if it is all cooked, poke the bun with a wooden skewer. if it comes out clean, then it is cooked right through.
Place the bun on a cooling tray, and let it get nice and cold, this will take a while.
While this is in the latter stages of cooling, it is time to make the icing.
Ingredients
About half a cup of Icing sugar.
About two table spoons of butter.
A few drops of warm water.
Coconut Shavings
As you can see the amounts for the icing are not very scientific, what you are trying to create is a nice thick layer of icing, that is creamy in texture, not hard icing you would put on a sponge cake. What you are looking for is enough icing to give a nice thick coating to the bun
Mix everything together (except the coconut shavings), and mix and mix and mix. If you find it is too runny, add more icing sugar. If you find it is too hard, add more butter. In the end you will get it to the point where it is a bit like whipped cream.
Spread the icing over the top of the bun, then sprinkle with the coconut shavings.
The bun can be served on it's own, or sliced and spread with a little butter. While it may seem like a heavy cake, it is very moist and light to eat.
Enjoy.
Blog Out,
HooRoo
Bec
I hate needles!
Hi Cassingles lovers, and others of differing media mediums,
Well Thursdays is becoming my ouch day. Well not every Thursday, but every second Thursday at least. You see Thursday is the day I donate blood, or more precisely plasma (not the kind foundin televisions). The other thing that has happened on Thursdays now is an injection I have to get at my doctors every fortnight. THis injection also includes a blood test at least every two months.
So today it was off to my doctors, for my injection, at which time I find out it is also blood test day too. So a quick injection in the top of my left buttock, and a blood sample from my right arm, pin cushion count so far 2.
After that it was off to the blood bank, for donation number 150! I have been going there for about 13 years now. It first started as a way to help me get over my fear of needles, it hasn't worked. What has worked though is the guilt trip you get if you don't go in. After all, only three percent of us donate, so I have to do my bit. The free milkshake and party pies after it has nothing to do with donating, really.
So into the predonation area I go, to get my finger pricked to test my iron levels, finger pricked, no blood, umm, well it happens sometimes, so onto another finger. With finger pricked, again we fail to see blood. Oh well, third time lucky, eureka, we strike red gold. Pin cushion count so far 5.
Then it was on to donate my plasma, which for those of you who have not seen it, looks a bit like urine. To get it out of you, they draw out whole blood, put it into a fast spinning thing (note use of technical terms) and the plasma stays in the middle and gets sucked out.
So they put the needle in my arm, and off we go, spinning away nicely, plasma on the march. In all my time I have donated about 100 litres of the stuff, not bad going for a 30 year old. They should be able to get upto about 500+ litres out of me, before I am not allowed to donate due to age restictions, not bad going hey?
Anyway as I am donating away, something that occasionally happens, happens. The machine breaks down half way through it all. So a swap of the arms is needed, with a new needle going in to complete the transaction. Pin cushion count 7.
All in all, a very hurtful day, but alas I will be back in two weeks to do it all again, and no, this is not some kind of kinky thing.
Blog out,
HooRoo
Bec
I'm a Loser Baby
Hi "Would you like a bag with that" people, and other 3 items or lessers,
Well it is oficial, I've taken the test (I really should get out more) and found out that I am a LOSER!
Glad I took that test to confirm what I already knew.
Blog Out,
HooRoo
Bec
