Fatlo.af

So there I was, thinking I might be able to enjoy a nice bbq at a workmates place on Saturday afternoon and then bam! I get served a rissole that was poised to damn near take my ass off. Not in a polite english “please sir, do you mind” kind of manner, more like tequila when it decides that the parties over and its leaving your body through the nearest open window.

Don’t get me wrong, they were damn nice, just a tad on the warm side of hell. When you couple these with sauces that have a smiling mexican movie star on them and could remove paint if the need arose it just goes downhill from there.

But first, I’ll just go back a few hours to the night before where I attended my employer’s yearly christmas dinner. As per routine, it was a black tie affair and this year was held at the Adelaide Town Hall and in typical fashion it was an excuse for computer geeks and average dresser’s to come together in unison to hire expensive suits and wear bad shoes.

I say this because, well, I like to look as good as I possibly can whenever possible. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but dammit I still give it a try. Here’s the conundrum I pointed out to Laura (my date, per se), you can tell those who don’t wear shirt and tie’s very often because of the suits they hire, you can tell they hired the suit because of the shoes they wear. Now, Laura questioned this in saying maybe they owned the suit (which, for the most part were nice suits) and just hadn’t gotten any nice shoes. Here’s the conundrum, if someone has enough taste to purchase a nice dinner suit, good shirt and classy bow tie then they definitely have the taste to buy shoes that go with it. Not school shoes from Clarks you’d see on someone heading to their third period physics lesson.

I digress.

After once again not getting any recognition for anything (not really a gripe, more of a triumph in my mind), enjoying a nice dinner and watching Laura get twirled around on the dance floor by a man that makes Spence look short we headed back to Laura’s new beau’s place in Rosewater. After a beer or two, I headed home myself. Little did I know I was only mere hours away from tasting the edible equivalent of nitroglycerin.

Seriously, if I had eaten them at slightly the wrong angle or bumped it or something it would have blown my teeth clean out of my head.

Normally my deal with going to bbq’s is bringing some exotic beer either I hadn’t tried or someone else hadn’t tried. Either way, someone was experiencing something new. I brought along two beers on this occasion, Kokanee brewed in Creston, British Columbia (Canada) and Redds, a Polish fruity beer much like apple cider. Both quite nice beers.

The second stage of bbq’s for the weekend was at my man Mark’s place. It was the first of the season at his place with big things expected this year with talk of a pool volleyball set and banana racer’s only fuelling speculation of a bumper bbq season. We were lounging for quite a bit and went in the pool a couple of times before Mark delegated bbq responsibility to Rohan, thereon designated “Mark’s Bitch”. He complained, as usual, but still did it like the diligent little whipped man that he is.

Mark and Kate put on quite a spread, with plenty of meats and the occasional salad they did well on all accounts. I’m sure there’ll be another soon.

With christmas looming large next weekend things are starting to get hectic. I’m finishing up work on Wednesday next week to drive to Melbourne for christmas with the other part of the family over there. It’s shaping up to be a rough weekend, lots of port, scotch and beer to consume and with both my father and my uncle being ex-RAAF they can definitely drink. I maintain that when you join any of the armed services you get a uniform plus an extra supercharged liver for when your original one gives out.

Of course, I haven’t done any christmas shopping yet. I like to leave it to the last minute, I do all my best thinking when the pressure’s on.

I’ll probably put a post up next week while in melbourne, it will probably be raining. It always does. Wait, no it doesn’t, its either raining or its so damn hot you can actually watch the paint deteriorate on your car. There is no middle ground.

Until then, good afternoon. Or whatever.