Wow, Bob Carr resigned. I wonder if he’llBZZZZZZZZT - you totally thought I’d wanked myself into the blogosphere just then, didn’t you? Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Can I stay drunk for nine days in a row? I’m about to find out, because I have a week of annual leave next week, hooray! It’s just going to be one massive weekend, innit? Innit. On closer consideration, this means I’ll have to do boring things while I’m smashed, like drunk dishwashing, drunk making sandwiches, drunk grimacing at Mike Munro’s arrogant and obviously ad-libbed patter between reports on National Nine News on the weekend… but it’ll all be in the name of edu…edushmacaysshoonnnn.

Plus, now I’ve got the ultimate in drinkingwear: a Geelong Cats guernsey. Thankyou, birthday! Seriously, I start feeling like I’m off my face as soon as I put the thing on.

So I’m not really too sure what I’ll be doing on my week off. My sister’s arrived back from overseas, so I’ll probably be catching up with her. If the weather’s good I might go to the beach a bit… otherwise it’ll be simply drinking, seeing some bands, playing some video games… oh yeah, I totally went out and bought a Gaycube from eBay for $50. I mean, I fully acknowledge they’re the console equivalent of Anthony Callea, but I’m a bit of a fag and only like crap puzzle games that revolve around matching coloured bubbles which are freefalling at breakneck speed from the puckered anus of some Japanese zebra-esque creature.

Adam’s reintroducing kickboxing to his cache of ways to make people bleed. I’m not sure if he’s aiming for tournaments or just doing it for fun, but he’s going back to kickboxing classes for the first time in a couple of years. Lately he’s just been training at boxing, which in one way I much prefer to kickboxing, as it means I only get blows from one half of his limbs when he comes home from training all hyped up and ready to kill some random straight person. That said, it will be fucking cool to finally see Adam at a tournament beating people up for cash. Sydney fuckers should come out to whatever random dodgy western suburbs RSL we end up at for a day of violence, glory, beer, and possible merry ride to our local hospital to get Adam stitched up afterwards.

As for me? Well, the best exercise I’ll be getting tonight is my drinking arm… gotta get some practice in for next week, don’t I?

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