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 It's my birthday today, and I should be happy and jovial, but you know what? I'm not. I've got a little something I want to get off my chest.
You know what's wrong with kids today? They just don't have the same quality entertainment that we had when I was growing up. Oh, I'm sure that the kids of today just love their brightly coloured ponces, prancing around, singing songs about... whatever the hell they're singing about, but that's only because a) they don't know any better, and b) television networks have realised that they can continue to rake in the spondooli while keeping kids happy by flashing some flourescent, dimwitted, baby talking freaks on the screen and forget about actually educating them in these developmental years of their childhood. "What the hell is your point?" I hear you ask. Well, I may not exactly have one to speak of exactly, but I believe I can sum up what I'm feeling in one simple sentance.
Where the HELL is Grover?
Grover was anything and everything to me as a toddler. Super Grover was my hero. Grover the waiter made me laugh. He was the worlds most lovable monster, but no! They had to go and give that title to a small, red, retarded red monster with a speech impediment. They tossed Grover into the has-been bin with the Fraggles, Forgetful Jones, Kermit's reporter hat and trenchcoat, and the other Muppets that have outgrown their usefulness. Honestly, what is Elmo going to teach the children of the world? How to speak about oneself in the third person? That the best way to solve a problem in life is to retreat into a psychadelic world of imagination? Please. Elmo needs to be killed, skinned and made into a new red cape for Super Grover.
I would give anything to bring back the old Seseme Street. I've had the misfortune to watch a few episodes of the new one recently, and I have to say that it totally sucks sphincter. Seseme Street is on the PBS network in the States, which I believe runs on donations from pledge drives, and also merchandising. As soon as they realised that they can earn squeeze money from merchndising the Seseme Street brand, marketing executives threw all resposibility aside and devised Elmo. Chi-ching! Elmo clothing. Chi-ching! Elmo dolls. Chi-ching! Tickle-me-Elmo dolls. Chi-ching! Elmo wears a chicken suit while singing a shitty song dolls. Chi-ching!
This doesn't bother me as much as the way that they've changed the format of the show. To me, it seems that they've taken the best bits out and replaced it with advertising for merchandise dressed as sedative mind candy. Every episode, there's a lame 10 minute segment with just Elmo singing and dancing on a multi-coloured computer generated back-drop. My baby will be born in about 2 months time. Do you think I'm going to subject my kid to the hypercolour, hyperbolic, hyperactive vomit that is the new Seseme Street? That was a rhetorical question.
They need more celebrity guests, and I'm not talking the likes of Beyonce bloody Knowles, who I saw on there the other day. I'm talking superstar James Taylor singing up on a rooftop. I'm talking Gary Coleman, Pee Wee Herman, Tony Danza. That's the uber-calibre of celebrity I'm talkin 'bout. Bring back the two-headed monster, for God's sake. Thanks to them, I could read before I could talk. It's about education, see? Won't somebody please think of the children?
I can't believe they also cut out the subtle homoeroticism between Ernie and Bert, two close "friends" sharing an apartment. It was like Ernie was the simple, friendly, straight guy, unknowingly sending out mixed signals to the frustrated, uptight, closet gay muppet, Bert. I bet he secretly peeked through the keyhole to the bathroom during Ernie's rubber duckie sessions. Poor Bert would get more and more confused about his homosexual tendancies. And then one day he was silenced. How often is Bert on Seseme Street these days? I've only seen a couple of episodes lately, but he wasn't on either of those. If anyone knows, please let me know if Bert is okay. I'm a little concerned.
Maybe Elmo killed Bert. I wouldn't put it past the furry little fucker. |
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| Posted by a very angry MadDog
on Tuesday December 2, 2003 at 11:10 PM - 2 comments |
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So, I'm on this Summer Kick-Start soup diet that's all the rave these days. It's nothing new to me, though. I tried it back before it was ever mentioned on Today Tonight or in New Idea magazine. It was apparently a hospital diet they imposed on overweight patients so they can lose weight quickly before surgery. Last time I tried the diet, it was with a slightly different recipe for the all-important vegetable soup which forms the very backbone of the diet, which consisted mostly of boiled cabbage. Of course, because I couldn't stomach the soup, this diet lasted for about 4 out of the 7 days befor I headed to KFC, but this time the soup recipe contains no cabbage, so I decided to give it another go.
This time, I've lasted the entire 7 days without cheating once. I am the embodiment of will-power, I shit you not. The soup was a little more tolerable this time around, but I'm getting really sick of it. I reallyn have to force it down sometimes, but I keep thinking of the results. According to the diet, if you don't cheat you should lose between 4 to 6 kilograms depending on how much weight you have to lose. The way the diet is written, it seems tailored to people who are really overweight and offers such handy tips as "Slow down when you eat to give your stomach a chance to let your brain know that it is full", "Don't buy foods you don't want to eat", and my favorite "Once you have served your meal put the remaining food away so it is out of sight". Honestly, they might as well say "Don't go to bed with a roasted turkey next you".
But I digress. The ultimate question is: Did I lose any weight? I decided not to weigh myself throughout the week, but only at the end of the seven days. Well, week one ended last night and I'm pleased to say that over the past week I have lost 5 kilos (11 pounds). Now, that's only a quarter of the amount that I want to lose, but I think it's a good, healthy start. So what next? Well, apparently you're not supposed to stay on the diet for more than one week, two tops, and no more than 3 weeks in a six month period, but theres a week-two running in New Idea which is similar to week one but re-introduces things like grilled bacon and eggs back into the diet. I guess I'll just stick to it while my will-power holds up, although I could have picked a better time than over Christmas to diet. |
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| Posted by a very accomplished MadDog
on Tuesday November 11, 2003 at 2:30 PM - 2 comments |
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I went clothes shopping on Saturday morning. I bought a whole bunch of really great looking clothes too. I even got them at a great price. $110 for two pairs of cargos, two T-shirts and a button-up collar shirt. Normally some new duds to show off would make me feel pretty good, but Saturday morning was marked as a black day for me; a day that will live on forever in infamy.
I bought my first XXL sized article of clothing.
I can't say I'm entirely surprised, really. My diet has a lot of room for improvement. I don't think I'm about to start eating grapefruit, but more frequent, smaller portions seems to be the way to go to get the metabolism going. Apart from walking two blocks to work each morning I get little to no exercise, although I enjoy walking Maddi around the lake every now and then, but even so, I haven't done that in a while. Gracie thinks it may be her fault, as pregnancy has left her with a diminished appitite and she often palms half of her meal off onto me (which I dutifully consume like the good husband I am). Personally, I think I've just become a lazy, tubby bitch who needs to stop eating so much and do some stomach crunches once in a while. I'd like to do some more walking, but arthritis in my ankles and knees make that very difficult. Cycling may be the way to go, and a bit of swimming when it gets warmer. I might even get a Dance-Dance Revolution mat for the PS2 and boogie my way to more shapely hips, thighs and buttocks. I'm not after rock-hard abba-dabbas, but if I could get back to looking the way I did seven years ago, I'll be happy. |
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| Posted by a very bloated MadDog
on Monday October 20, 2003 at 9:40 AM - 7 comments |
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Is this the face of an ancient alien civilisation?
Click here to download yet another commemorative movie file. And what ultrasound movie would be complete without the obligitory dodgy soundtrack.
Windows Media Format (5.8MB) |
Well, actually we're more along the lines of 23 weeks or something now, but it's taken me this long to make this nice little movie file of the routine 18-week ultrasound video, thanks to the crashtastic Windows Movie Maker, and to the recent re-arrangement of my living room (all my video cables are not where they used to be). The ultrasound technician gave a running commentary of the ultrasound which I believe was to be recorded with the video footage, but alas, never made it to the tape, so I added a few titles to explain what you're looking at (not to mention a little bit of karaoke).
While things seem to be going really well, Gracie's still pretty crook. She got over the morning/all-day sickness, and has now moved on to the reflux phase, which we're told will only get worse right up to birth. Baby is about 20cms from head to bunghole, which sounds huge. She should have fully-formed eyelids, eyebrows and fingernails by now, which is great, because I thinking having those things is pretty neat. The skin layer has also fully formed at this stage, which is also handy to have, although the fat layer has not, making the bub look like she's been in the bath too long.
Most days, Gracie can be found walking around the house hiccupping, muttering about being the size of a house, huccupping some more, cleaning the house and swearing at her hiccups. She's been getting a bit of back pain so she's seen a physio who specialises in preganancy. She says the baby is kicking (she says kick-boxing actually), but only internally, so theres nothing for me to feel just yet.
TOP 10 REASONS TO HAVE KIDS
- I get to play with action figures and video games while pretending to be a father.
- Permission to demand a bite of any icecream or chocolate bar in your child's possession "just to check if it's poisoned".
- I'll have someone to cut my toe nails when my beer gut gets too fat to do them myself.
- I'll finally be able to use all the "dad jokes" I've been storing in the back of my brain all these years.
- The existence of a money box, within your house, from which funds may be "borrowed" at crucial times, such as when beer supplies run low.
- I'm always willing to try anything once.
- Paediatricians seem like good enough people. They deserve new BMWs.
- Our neighbours don't complain enough.
- A legitimate excuse to watch Hi-5. Phwoaarr...
- Finally put my Sega Rally skills into practice taking kids to school/sports/ballet within a tight schedule.
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| Posted by a very sassy MadDog
on Friday October 10, 2003 at 9:32 AM - 2 comments |
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 Am I the only one who thought that Roy Orbison was blind? I couldn't possibly be. I mean, honestly, look at him. He always wore those big-ass dark glasses, looking slightly off-centre. He never moved around much, preferring to perform standing still in the middle of the stage. Of course, it all makes sense, but how could I be the only person I know who thought this? Anyway, I did my research and sure enough he could indeed see, although he did have poor eyesight.
Before a concert he forgot his regular prescription glasses on the airplane and only had his prescription sunglasses with him. So he preformed with his sunglasses on that night and the next day the newspaper completely focused on his sunglasses and not so much his performance that evening! He knew that it might be a good way to get an image that could last.
Also he enjoyed driving motorcycles and cars, which would be a bloody stupid thing for a blind person to do.
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| Posted by a very sheepish MadDog
on Monday September 29, 2003 at 8:48 AM - 3 comments |
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 I'm sure I'm not alone when I say these 6 words:
Enough with the lifestyle shows already!
Jamie Dury and the Backyard Blitz team, God love 'em, they're an alright sort of bunch, but If I hear them give the same damn advice about bloody dove-tail joints, lillypilly or sandstone pavers, I think I'll go quite mad... umm.. well, madder anyway. I think this whole lifestyle/DIY genre has gone way too far. It seems that TV executives have seen some urgent need to have twelve different shows where they teach you how to cook 2-minute noodles or come and fix up your house and garden, but I think someone needs to draw the line here. I shit you not, the other night, Jamie Oliver taught me how to make a sandwich, and then went on to explain the best way to cut it in half. "What's that, Jamie? Cut it diagonally with a serrated knife? No fucking way! Really?" I was heard yelling at my TV that night. Gabriel Gaté would be turning in his grave if he heard that. Oh, and if he were dead. Yes. |
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| Posted by a very fed up MadDog
on Friday September 5, 2003 at 9:41 AM - 4 comments |
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And, while I'm in this innebriated state of conciousness, what the hell is with these generic brands of clothing that you seem to only be able to buy at Trash'n'Treasure type of merchants. For example, I've just noticed something about my comfy sweatshirt thing that I've worn for years, you know the garment I'm talking about, that top you always pull over when you're taking a sick day off work. Mine bears the slogan "Sport: Inter-sport Group". What the HELL does that mean? Is there some actual association nestled away at the foot of the Swiss Alps studying the art of sports and otherwise athletic activity, who somehow decided to market thier brand of green-blue sweatshirts through some quasi-asian clothing stand, constructed from blue tarpaulins and tent-poles, who travels from flea-market to flea-market, traversing the many podunk towns in central Victoria?
I also have a windcheater (they cheat the wind, apparently) that reads "University of Iowa". Now, I don't have a freakin' clue whether the US state of Iowa actually has a damned university, or whether their logo comprises of some mule pulling a cart, but when I pull on that comfortable fleecy top, I don't really give a damn. This jumper could have "I love noodles!" emblazoned across the front, and I wouldn't care.
Coming soon: Look out for my new range of sick-ware, sweeping the nation. Features the slogans: "I [heart] noodles]!" and "Urkel for presdent!".
I apologise in advance for those who make absolutely no damned sense from this post. |
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Look, mate. I don't know about you, but I've had about two bottles of vino and I'm pretty tipsy.
[EDIT: After much deliberation with my inner-self, this paragraph has been removed due it making absolutely no sense whatsoever. This isn't something I'd normally do, rather preferring to leave posts online for historical reasons, even if I've said something I've regretted. In this instance, I've made an exception. It was total shambles of zero interest to anybody, including myself.]
Whoa, I'm drunk.
Note: I've had to spell check this post about seven times, making this about the most intoxicated post on Planet MadDog ever! Wooooooo!
Note: I've totally got the hiccups... whoa... |
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| Posted by a very melodramatic MadDog
on Friday August 8, 2003 at 9:52 PM - 2 comments |
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I just read in the newspaper that young Aussie pop star, Vanessa Amorosi, is to be executed by firing squad. Although it seems a bit extreme, I, for one, think that it's about time. We have had to put up with her high-pitched warbling for far too long now.
UPDATE: I've... um... re-read the article and it appears I've made a slight... err... error. It's actually convicted Bali terrorist bomber Amrozi bin Nurhasyim that is to be executed... not Vanessa... This is great news for the survivors and families of the victims who may get some sense of justice from this decision, although personally I think it's an easy way out for a killer who wants to die. This is also great news for a lady I hold in very high esteem, that great Aussie talent, Vanessa Amorossi, who I hope goes on to live a long and very prosporous life making horrible, horrible music. |
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| Posted by a very jubilant MadDog
on Friday August 8, 2003 at 11:15 AM - 0 comments |
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WOOHOO! Look at the little dude jump!
Click here to download a commemorative movie file, complete with dodgy soundtrack. Windows Media Format (3.6MB) | Avid readers of this site will notice I've been a little out of it for a while now. Well I can now finally reveal the big news that Gracie and I are expecting a BABY! We're about 13 weeks into the ordeal now and just had the ultrasound that is as per the norm for around this stage of the pregnancy. Now that it's safe to break the news, we've been telling practically everyone. It's getting difficult to keep track of who we've told and who we havent. I'm often asked when we found out, and if it was a surprise. Well, I can sort of say that we already knew we were having a baby before it was even concieved. You see, this baby was concieved through IVF, that is, that the egg was extracted, fertilised in a lab and then re-inserted. So while I didn't actually get to have sex to conceive this child, I did get to watch some pretty good porn.
Everything is going pretty well so far, with bub at a healthy size and heart-rate. Gracie's been as sick as a dog though. She has a bit of trouble sleeping (I swear her bladder is the size of a peanut), and she goes through these phases where everything either tastes fantastic or like poop. Unfortunately, on these off days, food seldom stays down, and we've got a nice little puddle at the side of our house from when Gracie gets out of the car. Oh well. At least the neighbourhood cats get fed.
Yesterday was the day for our 13-week ultrasound (usually 12 week, but the only appointment for last week would have been at 8:30am, and there's no way Gracie could drink enough water to fill her tiny bladder by then), which brought excitement levels to new heights. This was the second ultrasound I had attended, although the first one was when the baby was about the size of a pea (although you could still see a heart-beat).
As I watched, mezmerised by the Giger-esque images on the screen, the tiny human rolled around, waved its arms and sprung off the walls of the womb like a frog. It was quite amusing to watch. I'm convinced of the possibility that it could actually be a bizzare human-frog hybrid. Who knows what thise scientists did to it while in that test tube. We could see arms, legs, a head, spine and rib-cage. No wang was sighted at this stage, but detecting the gender via an external ultrasound at this stage is not common. We popped in the video cassette we brought with us and recorded about 5 minutes of footage.
It was getting increasingly hard not to tell people our great news, while we were contemplating names, pondering the gender of the baby, and all the other things you think about. While I'm totally wrapped, Gracie's a lot more excited about it than me, and getting clucker by the day, but that was expected seeing as I tend to get excited about simpler things like wide-screen TVs and new toys.
I'm expecting to get a lot of questions about this so I'll attempt to answer the top five questions here.
Q. So, are you going to find out the gender?
A. Hell yeah. I'm not much for that kind of suspence, so whatever makes it easier for us to plan colour schemes, clothes and accessories, we're all for it.
Q. Do you want a boy or a girl?
A. I'm going to go for the cop-out answer and say that as long as it has 10 fingers and 10 toes, I'll be happy with either. This is actually true though, because I think that both sexes would have their advantages. I think that Gracie will bond much more with a little girl, and make this a more positive experience for her, like-wise the same for me.
Q. What do you like better, caramel or strawberry topping?
A. What the hell does that have to do with anything? Get back on topic! Caramel.
Q. Are you looking forward to being woken in the middle of the night/changing nappies/being peed on?
A. Yeah, like I'd look forward to a concrete enema. Although, its all part of the package, and this is something that we've both wanted for a while now, so I think I can deal with it.
Q. What sort of dad do you think you'll be?
A. What sort of question is that? I think I'll be a pretty good one. Anyone who thinks they wont be has no business having kids. I think I'll be pretty popular with the kid, because I'll be able to share my toys with it, and vice-versa. God, I hope it'll be into video games, because it will make Christmas and birthdays easy to shop for. I'll just buy them whatever new toy that I want, and I'll get to use it. Knowing my luck, it will probably be into sports and shit. |
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