all this talk of getting old

Against my better judgement, I lined up with a wad of friends to watch close to ten solid hours of Lord Of The Rings films at the Carousel cinemas on Sunday night. On the bright side, it wasn’t nearly as painful to stay awake through as I was expecting, not to mention that it flowed together very well, more like one ten-hour movie than three three-and-a-bit-hour movies (this probably has something to do with them all being filmed and produced back-to-back instead of several years apart). All in all it wasn’t bad, and I enjoyed it, and it might sound weird to say this, but I think there just wasn’t enough tragedy involved to really make me concerned about the characters.

On the bright side, during one of the less entertaining sections of the first film, I went out seeking my own entertainment and found some in the form of almost having a candy bar employee killed. After sufficient consideration, I asked the 17-year-old looking fellow behind the counter for a Large Sprite and a packet of Starburst Babies, and after explaining in detail that I didn’t want to upgrade to the extra-chuba-spanky-uber-large cup for only one dollar extra, he started filling my cup with Coke and dived under the desk to search for my jelly babies. He pulled a large container lid off of something under the desk, put it behind him and began shuffling around a bit before announcing he would have to go fetch some from the other counter. Shortly after, he returned with my nibblies in hand, grabbed the coke with his off-hand and began to rattle off “That’ll be ten dollars and…” before finding the under-desk container lid with his foot and launching himself ass over tit towards the ground. In a blind attempt to steady himself, he tried to grab hold of the counter, which may have worked had he not been holding a large coke in that hand, which exploded across the counter in spectacular fashion. He squirmed around on the now wet floor breifly before standing back up, looking around and announcing “That wasn’t me”, at which point I reminded him that I’d ordered a Sprite anyhow.

Monday was mostly occupied with sleeping the movie marathon off, before tuesday came when I met up with a couple of biker friends in Armadale and went for a romp around the hills. After heading out to Serpentine Dam, then through to Dwellingup and Waroona, we took off up the Nanga Brook road, having a great time fanging along some nice and twisty back roads. The roads were mostly clean and absolutely gorgeous, and it’s just brilliant fun barrelling full tilt through a column of trees and whipping up dry leaves on the road into small-scale tornados. So it was marvellous fun right up until one of them blew a rear tyre. Of course this is where riding around back roads about 50k’s east of the middle of nowhere becomes problematic. No inhabitants, no mobile service, no traffic. Over the next three hours we spent organising a way to get the bike back home, only two other cars went along this road. There was a lot of riding back and forth to the nearest town, a bit of sunburn, a lot of cursing, but eventually we managed to hunt down someone in Waroona who had a car trailer that we could use to get the bike moving on its journey home. Mad props go out to the helpful townsfolk of Waroona who help out leather-clad bikers with horrific helmet hair without question (the owner of one store even offered us the keys to his ute since he couldn’t leave the place unattended).

It’s been an interesting week, and now it’s new years eve. Oh, and as a side note, I got a pair of Hulk Hands for christmas. HULK SMASH! ARGH!

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