Well – my next bit of writing was going to be in response to the well-educated chap who took offence at my little discussion of snakes.  But – that will have to wait.

I’m not sure why it took me so long to figure this out – but I finally did about 2 minutes ago…

My little sister is trying to raise some cash.  And the cash isn’t for a car, or a holiday, or any of that – but for an even better cause.  But before the money – she herself is donating a helluva lot of hair.  Sounds odd, yeah?  But when you read about it – it is pretty damned awesome.  See, my sister has got this ridiculous amount of hair – down to her knees.  So – she’s gonna chop it all off – and donate the hair to some group who use it to make wigs for people who need them.  But not rich old men who wear hairpieces – rather people who have serious conditions resulting in hairloss.  I get the impression that the emphasis is on children too – which is pretty sweet.

So – my sister is making a pretty big sacrifice – you gotta think that chopping off 9 years worth of hair growth is a pretty big thing.  So – the least we can do is donate  a little money, yeah?  That’s what she figured too – so she’s got a website set up where you can do just that.  So – this place Freedom Wigs get’s her hair, and we can all sponsor her to do this – and that money goes to Cure Kids.  I’m always a little sceptical of charities – especially ones based on religion – but both of these sound cool.  So do it.  Give money to my little sister.

Here’s a nice little website to do it at.  And, once again, I can’t believe I didn’t think of doing this sooner.  Apologies to all the children for my getting dumber as I get older.

And as an additional incentive – I will match any donations made due to reading this.  So – try to bankrupt me… I dare ya.

But anyway – I realised today that I hadn’t updated this for a while.  The reason I remembered, was that I discovered last night that over the last one or two nights – Chook has been staying up all night, reading it.  There is something vaguely disconcerting about the image of Chook sitting at his desk at 2am, reading through everything I’ve written over the last few years, while I am asleep in the very next room.  I have a stalker, and he has a key to my house.

Other than that – I guess the last month or so has been a period of settling into the new house, new suburb.  The nice man at the wine store has already started giving me ad-hoc discounts “because you are such a good regular”.  I have discovered where to buy the best grapefruit juice (or – in French – pamplemousse.  Such a good word… PAMPLEMOUSSE!).  I can’t find any hollandaise sauce yet, or even dry mustard to make my own.  But – am hopeful for my next search – gonna go to one of the bigger supermarkets, and then it will be eggs hollandaise, eggs florentine, eggs benedict for breakfast every weekend.  Have been playing squash rather regularly.  Soon, I will buy my own racquet – and a tracksuit, and will tell everybody that “I am a squash player”.  Luckily, this will probably be next year – when my New Year’s Resolutions kick in – and one of those should prevent me from hating myself for saying that.  Speaking of New Year’s – we are having a party.  And you WILL come.  And Resolutions – I am still in the process of finalising those, but I’m nearly there.  The theme this year is ‘Album Titles’.  Every resolution will be in the form of an album title.

As for my nemesis, the old binge drink – there hasn’t been too much of that recently.   Moving away from The Greyhound has been a huge help.  Last Friday – I went to a gig (is that how the kids say it?), and then on to a surprise party Bibby had organised for Ang.  Everybody there was really rather intoxicated.  Martin bit my ear.  Ang was needing plenty of assistance to stay upright.  Bibby had given up on the whole upright thing.  And there was madness aplenty.

And that’s about it.  Over the next couple of weeks – I am working.  Working on Jeebers’ birthday – to make sure that nobody tries to get me to work on New Year’s.  Which you WILL be coming to.  Balham.  31 December.  Don’t forget.

Eventually though, I’m sure, it will devolve into nothing more than my being opinionated, and relating the minutiae of my everyday life.  Even this initial post has shown signs of both these normal ‘Web-Log’ behaviours already, damn it.  Therefore – I will finish up – and go back to sitting on the couch with my delicious Export Dry, watching the Black Caps thrash the Arsetralians.  What was Adam Parore, or was it Carlos Spencer (always get those two preening cocks mixed up) – thinking when he knocked Fleming?  Sure – he probably lost that one game for us, but ……