Amelia Pond! You're the little girl!
I'm Amelia, and you're late.
Monday, June 27
My computers have been working fine just lately, so I was waiting, and there, my washing machine (the new one) just blew up.
It doesn't turn on at all, so it's probably just the fuse. Do you think they provide any indication at all of where the fuse is or how to replace it?
Saturday, June 25
One of those weeks.
Thursday, June 23
The asian supermarket closest to New Pixy Central doesn't sell the strawberry Pocky that I like. It does sell two other types of strawberry Pocky; just not the one I like. I'm not sure about the asian supermarket second closest to New Pixy Central. The asian supermarket third closest to New Pixy Central does sell the strawberry Pocky that I like, but that's another four minutes walk.
The asian supermarket near the office (or rather, the new asian supermarket near the office, not the old asian supermarket near the office) also sells the strawberry Pocky that I like, but it charges ten cents more than the asian supermarket third closest to New Pixy Central.
Tuesday, June 21
Expect more than the usual level of chaos for the next few weeks - Pixy Central is moving. This should be lots of fun.
Monday, June 06
Gratuitous puppy picture:
Little Cafe Mocha is a cocker spaniel / shih-tzu cross. He's one of a litter of five, along with brothers Oreo, Dingo, Jack Jr. and Bob. Picture courtesy of Scarlet on the mu.nu forums.
Thursday, June 02
Once upon a time, there were five distinctive national holidays in Australia.
Christmas, of course, the season of eating too much and spending too much. And heatwaves and bushfires.
New Year's Eve, when you got to stay up late (unless you fell asleep on your half-glass of champagne).
Easter. Chocolate! Easter Hat Parade! More chocolate!
Anzac Day, our national remembrance day. (We also observe Armistice Day, but it's not a holiday.)
And Fireworks Day. More formally, the Queen's Birthday (though it actually doesn't occur on her birthday). But to us kids, it meant fireworks. Not big fireworks off in the distance, but fireworks Dad brought home and set off himself. Right there in the garden, while you gathered around in your pyjamas and dressing gowns. Whoosh! Pop! And then off for some hot cocoa, because it's getting chilly by this time of year.
No more. Eighteen years ago the New South Wales state government decided that the people were too stupid to be allowed fireworks, and banned their sale. Miserable pissant nanny-state crapweasels.
I have a dream, a dream of smoke and sparks, a dream that one day we shall rise up and kick the bastards out and take back the right to accidentally burn our eyebrows off every so often.
Who's with me?
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