<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:41:56.357+13:00</updated><category term='Cars'/><category term='Italian'/><category term='Paddles'/><category term='Super powers'/><category term='Freedom'/><category term='Hair'/><category term='Farewell'/><category term='Monkeys'/><category term='Ghosts'/><category term='Breakfast.'/><category term='Tour'/><category term='Beer'/><category term='lyrics'/><category term='leaving'/><category term='bye'/><category term='stomach'/><category term='egg'/><category term='Ducks'/><category term='elephant'/><category term='Nuts'/><category term='slap'/><category term='training'/><category term='2008'/><category term='The Owl'/><category term='reading'/><category term='pregnant'/><category term='rich'/><category term='Fill'/><category term='chopsticks'/><category term='Grains'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='lotion'/><category term='Stella'/><category term='Lunch'/><category term='lasagna'/><category term='Derek'/><category term='angry'/><category term='Orcas'/><category term='Raven'/><category term='Jane'/><category term='Fool'/><category term='subway'/><category term='Jared'/><category term='sick'/><category term='flowers'/><category term='Fire alarm'/><category term='Blog'/><category term='cooking'/><category term='poor'/><category term='Feng Shui'/><category term='Jenita'/><category term='Geisha'/><category term='skinny'/><category term='Date'/><category term='Band'/><category term='Hit and Run'/><category term='Blood.'/><category term='Taxi'/><category term='Future'/><category term='Gnocchi'/><category term='Queenstown'/><category term='April'/><category term='Owl'/><category term='arrest'/><category term='browser'/><category term='Food'/><category term='trivia'/><category term='Writing'/><category term='Gouge'/><category term='wind'/><category term='Bread'/><category term='Id'/><category term='Zzz'/><category term='Changes'/><category term='Day'/><category term='Leave'/><category term='Pram'/><category term='Microwave'/><category term='Predictions'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='Holiday'/><category term='maori'/><category term='Top 10'/><category term='High Heels'/><category term='Antony'/><category term='Chris'/><category term='Lindsay'/><category term='Whiteboard'/><category term='Debs'/><category term='Momo'/><category term='txt'/><category term='Valentines'/><category term='Garfield'/><category term='Welcome'/><category term='Ragz'/><category term='Wob'/><category term='Bubbly'/><category term='Registration'/><category term='recipe'/><category term='Beach'/><category term='Twins'/><category term='grape'/><category term='About Us'/><category term='knocked up'/><category term='Ass'/><category term='Cactus'/><category term='Lollies'/><category term='Adventures'/><category term='horses'/><category term='hungry'/><category term='Death'/><title type='text'>Back From Lunch (BaFL)</title><subtitle type='html'>ramblings from the minds of psychos (after lunch (or before))</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>132</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6835618956184258767</id><published>2010-10-12T15:30:00.001+13:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T11:16:36.906+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations New Recruit!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;If  you're reading this, then it means you've passed the Company’s rigorous  screening and interview process. The system was designed to flawlessly  keep out the chaff and filter the best and the most promising among the  applicants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;So again, Congratulations! You  are now well on your way to committing a portion of your life to the  healthy rigors of the corporate lifestyle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Now that you're a full fledged Vodadrone, it's time for you to learn more about what you’ve gotten yourself into.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;But first, the checklist:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Name Badge and Photo ID. Check.  Access Card. Check. Pencil and pad. Check. A PC. Check. Mobile phone.  Check. Earphones. Check. (trust me, you’ll need that last one.) Smile on  your face is optional. Sarcasm is mandatory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Now that part’s done,  it’s time I gave you some tips on how to effectively get along the team  you’re going to work with. Depending on how long you’ll last, they’ll be  the people that you’ll get to see a lot of, possibly more than your  family.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Side by side, through thick and thin, for better and worse. It’s  like getting married all over again.. to a bunch of people even. It's definitely no picnic*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;*According to Muhannad anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #1 : Learn to Say No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Have you ever been to  boot camp before? If not, it’s usually just about surviving and living  on your own means if you ever get stuck out in the wild. E.g. Scrounging  for food or wild animal encounters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Your first couple of days would be quite similar. Unfortunately, this is a given, one that every new recruit has to go through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;On your first day,  someone or something, with bear-like girth and animal like appearance  will immediately demand unreasonable amounts of food from you AND gasp!,  even a portion of your foreshore!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2Ew307P0I/AAAAAAAAADU/HpW5fOB0thM/s1600/bear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2Ew307P0I/AAAAAAAAADU/HpW5fOB0thM/s200/bear.jpg" width="132" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Beware! Take deep  breaths to keep yourself calm, try not to appear nervous, stay  absolutely still and remember to stand your ground!!! Just repeatedly  say “No, no, no!” and it’ll most likely waddle off and leave you unscathed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;However, when that ‘bear’ quickly starts wringing his right hand mid  waist and sticking his tongue in and out, then you take that as your cue  and skedaddle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #2 : Build Alliances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The age old question comes to mind : Who do you ally with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Since you’ve just  started, it’s understandable that you won’t have a clue who to trust and  for that matter, who you’d be able to get along with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;But just like books,  it’s quite easy to figure out what’s inside just by looking at the cover  alone. It's just like those picturesque material that you see in the book store. The "half naked man with astounding washboard abs caressing the buxom woman" pretty much tells you that it's a cheesy romance novel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Similar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;case here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2WukLCDHI/AAAAAAAAADs/NHjWm6sbjho/s400/goodbadugs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Good, Bad and The Ugly (In that order. Literally.&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2WukLCDHI/AAAAAAAAADs/NHjWm6sbjho/s1600/goodbadugs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Now who would you most likely hang out with? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Easy to differentiate now isn't it? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2cUISoakI/AAAAAAAAADw/U8-PDK_2kyE/s1600/foz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2cUISoakI/AAAAAAAAADw/U8-PDK_2kyE/s1600/foz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6C_XDponI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3lVVyp6x-z8/s1600/boss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6C_XDponI/AAAAAAAAAE8/3lVVyp6x-z8/s200/boss.jpg" width="138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #3. Know your Boss&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Vicki "Genghis Khan" Harris. The BI General. Tank Girl Dudding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;If it was the 1200's,  she'd be at the front of the pack, leading her band of barbarians, atop  her rugged and magnificent steed. She’d be clad in her padded leather  armor with a ridiculously large helmet of horns protruding from each  side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;She’ll be charging head  on, fire in her eyes, menacing face, teeth seething with anger,  sword raised high, beheading opponents unlucky enough to catch her  crosshairs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Now that I’ve painted that picture, replace the horse with a big mountain bike and that’s pretty much your new boss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2cUISoakI/AAAAAAAAADw/U8-PDK_2kyE/s1600/foz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2cUISoakI/AAAAAAAAADw/U8-PDK_2kyE/s200/foz.jpg" width="129" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;She’ll be the single  most important person you don’t want to piss off, not unless you want to  risk getting in her way and inheriting a two inch wide tread mark  across your forehead.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;And if you're really bad, you might even get marked with a black eye. This  happened one time to an underperforming ex-employee who’ll tell you that  he “got it from playing ‘touch’ rugby”. Yeah, right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Some stats:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Kids names : Julie and Morgan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fave Anthem : Oh Canada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Most likely spend a holiday on : Whistler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fave Ringtones : Faith No More's "Easy". Katy Perry's "Hot and Cold".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Goes weak in the knees for : The Shirtless Dudes in Twilight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Preferred drink on socials : Champagne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Last known mobile device : Blackberry 8820&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6Ehbgb3OI/AAAAAAAAAFM/owmy2LjUWDU/s1600/Vicki_Bowl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="127" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6Ehbgb3OI/AAAAAAAAAFM/owmy2LjUWDU/s200/Vicki_Bowl.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;In a nutshell : Very very competitive. Don't even challenge her if you do not like to lose, even for trivial sports, like say, Lawn Bowling. Also athletic, leads a healthy lifestyle, but eats pineapple lumps and jubes for breakfast/lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip : In the event that  your name is “Chris”, try to obtain legal representation and have it changed. It didn’t bode well for me after I learned that  her ex shared the same name as mine. Tsk tsk. Otherwise, you’ll just  have to lay low if you don’t want any of that repressed anger coming  your way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #4 : Schmooze with the Second in Command.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Alex "&lt;i&gt;The Slavemaster&lt;/i&gt;" Moffatt. &lt;i&gt;Muchos Delegatoris.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Have you ever wondered  where ‘work’ comes from? Ask her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;On second thought, don’t ask or even  make eye contact. She seems to have this deep-black-bottomless hole of  tasks that she always has in tow. One wrong look at her and BAM!!! She  dips into her skirt pocket and you get +4 tasks to last you until winter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;There were times where I  was brave enough not to avert her gaze. During those moments, I could see  some semblance with a certain pop tween sensation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="198" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK7rprYJjiI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kivHFvhL2v8/s320/twins.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Phyla Mileya Cyrusis. Party in the B of A&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK7rprYJjiI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kivHFvhL2v8/s1600/twins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Apart from their looks  and the amount of booze they regularly consume, that’s probably where the  similarity ends. Okay, maybe they both did pole dancing at one time but  that’s another story to tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Alex is the go to girl for EDW  Rated Usage and Billing Transactions. She’s very open and doesn’t mind  sharing the exciting details about her life. E.g. be friendly and ask her about car  alarm dramas.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Very organised and likes doing things systematically. For instance, I've known a lot of people go to Disneyland for fun. She on the other hand actually obtained a printout detailing how she’ll approach the park’s features point by point following a minute by minute schedule. Amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Rob &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;: I really need to go to the bathroom soon Honey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Alex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; : No you CANNOT! The Tea Cup ride’s just about to start in the next 30 seconds and I don’t want to miss it!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Ensure that you don’t get on her bad side as she is, after  all, the one in charge of delegating tasks around the team. For bribes,  she likes her coffee first thing  in the morning &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;(flat white latte with an extra shot?).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fave Ringtone : Some lame song played by a band called "The Pixies"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Known Weaknesses : The Lolly Jar and liquids with a considerable amount of alcohol in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Kids : Cougar and Pixie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;In to : Yoga &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Watching on TV tonight : Top Chef&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;In her lunch box : Uncle Ben’s Rice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Mobile device : Apple iPhone 3G (OS 4.0=big mistake)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Hot Tip : Her retention  to detail is close to super human. Trivia, Food, Gossip and EDW – you  name it and she could rattle it off the top of her head. In fact, think of things carefully before you say aloud. Once  spoken, she’ll remember and definitely catch you if you were spinning  any yarns.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #5 : Utilise your analytical resources.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Survival in this role depends on how you cope with tremendous amounts of information that  you’ll never get to use socially. (Have you ever started a conversation  with &lt;i&gt;“Hi, I’m a BA and I dabble with Data Models!”&lt;/i&gt;, seriously, who's going to fall for that?!?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Instead, let these resources  memorize the information and you could go about working on what’s going to be left of your social life. If you're desperate, you could try the classic : "Hi! I’m a developer and I  could Extract, Transform, and Unload, if you know what I mean. *wink wink”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Resource 1&lt;/u&gt;. "Clairebear" “Masterchef” McKinney.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="144" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK7u9lz_CoI/AAAAAAAAAF4/IybnPqCMzxM/s320/CandG.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;Seriously, was I the only one who saw the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gwyneth_Paltrow"&gt;resemblance&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK7u9lz_CoI/AAAAAAAAAF4/IybnPqCMzxM/s1600/CandG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Regardless, whenever I  see Claire, it’s actually her goodies I remember. (baked goodies you  perv). Her brownies. Yummm. She gave me the recipe once but I never  quite replicated the delectable cocoa taste, the insane texture that  just melts in your mouth, and where every bite just make your taste buds  tingle. Hmmmmm. Brownies. *I’m getting goosebumps just by thinking  about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; She didn't get&amp;nbsp; crowned &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;“Voda’s Hottest Homebaker 2010” for nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6EhQMUGTI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/UL0zjeedzss/s320/Clairesgoodies.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;This is an actual pic of her &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/asistio/3405822311/in/set-72157615432626391/"&gt;baking&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6EhQMUGTI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/UL0zjeedzss/s1600/Clairesgoodies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Apart from her baking prowess, she’s  also known for her analytical abilities, making her a great resource for  the team. You ask and you’ll get an answer. Response time varies  depending on how busy she is, but be assured that your question is at  the back of her mind. Think of her as a mini-google-ginga-ninja that bakes. (Don’t  forget to give her a hug on May 28, Ginger Awareness Day!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fave Ringtone : Likes it Silent and on Vibrate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Kids : Laura and Ethan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fetish on : Kiddie Artwork and Scribbles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Has got the hots for : Men with deep English accents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Ticked off by : Calling her Irish, taking photos of her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Hot Food Tip : Try to get a spot near the BI Lounge/Sofas as that’s where the food usually lands when she bakes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tv show most likely to watch : Most Hottest Homebaker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Mobile Device : Nokia E61&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Trivia : She was featured in a local newspaper sometime ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Resource 2&lt;/u&gt;. Nelle “LOL” Contreras.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; The Soccer Mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6OfWDrWwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/OuvCNy0MuUc/s1600/nelle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="134" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6OfWDrWwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/OuvCNy0MuUc/s200/nelle.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Another awesome  resource. Not just about work, but office gossip as well. New product  launch? Inside scoop on the business? Who’s pregnant? Who’s dating who?  You name it and she’ll likely have heard it. The team’s own personal  watering hole/water cooler and you don’t even have to walk far to get to  it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6OfWDrWwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/OuvCNy0MuUc/s1600/nelle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK6OfWDrWwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/OuvCNy0MuUc/s1600/nelle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Definitely easy to get  along and not hard to please. Her sense of humor’s so advanced that  she’ll pretty much laugh at anything you throw at her. Whether it’s load  delays or bad SQL she somehow manages to find the hilarity behind it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Alex : “&lt;i style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;We have a P2  ticket raised to deal with this load issue. The Finance guys will be  breathing down our necks again due to month end. Anyway, I’m sure IBM  we’ll be on it specially that Hashly’s back.”&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Nelle : &lt;i style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;“Harharharharharharharhar! Oh Alex, You’re soooo funny! Heeheeheeheehee!”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;She’s very patient,  fuelled by the fact that she’s been with the company for more than a  decade. Don’t test it though, expect to get smacked in the head if you  ask silly questions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fave Ringtones : The Calling's "Wherever You Will Go". Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Known Weakness : Ding Hao's Roast Duck on Rice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Also hates : her picture being taken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Currently on : A crash diet so convoluted that even Einstein won’t be able to figure out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Kids : Neena, Nelle Jr 1, and Nelle Jr 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Movie she’d likely watch : Shrek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Dinner on a Friday is : KFC or Chinese takeaway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Mobile Device : Nokia 6121c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Try this for fun : Call her Nelly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #6 : The Development Team&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Developer A&lt;/u&gt;. Chantal "Zoey" Zhuo. The Administrator.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The perfect seatmate. If you ever have the opportunity to sit right beside this lady then by all means, take it. (That is, if you don't mind the afro.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;      &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK-cg6dP_6I/AAAAAAAAAGM/0HOZRArY2OI/s1600/PottedPlant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK-cg6dP_6I/AAAAAAAAAGM/0HOZRArY2OI/s320/PottedPlant.jpg" width="236" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;If our pod were to have  dividers for privacy, you wouldn’t even know that she’s there. She’s  sooo quiet that it’s like sitting right next to a potted plant. A very  smart potted plant. Okay, a very smart carnivorous potted plant that  eats yummy homemade Chinese food during lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Her previous medical  background is evident in her work. Her precise actions and attention to  detail are extraordinary. Don’t mess with her! I saw her fantasize with a  banana once, carefully examining the exterior before diving in to surgically peel it. I swear it's like I was in the OR watching a patient get prepped for major  surgery.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;She would be the most likely candidate to resuscitate you  should you suffer from a report developer stroke. [&lt;i&gt;not to worry, this doesn't happen often.&lt;/i&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fave Ringtone : Ringgg Ringgg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Known Weakness : Leaves in hot water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;On her playlist : Classical Music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Karate Kid : Andrew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Current goal : Making her husband comply with his diet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Personal Latptop(s) : Dell Inspiron 15 (Apple Green) and 15R (Glossy Pink)&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Mobile Device : Apple iPhone 3G (OS 3)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Trivia : Not sure if  anybody knows, but she’s got a rare mutation that only one out of tens  of millions have. You have to ask her to find out. Don't worry, it's not contagious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Developer B&lt;/u&gt;. Jared "Buns of Steel" Smeath. The Terminator.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK7xdNYt82I/AAAAAAAAAF8/0K4LqZmOlx4/s1600/Monkenstein.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK7xdNYt82I/AAAAAAAAAF8/0K4LqZmOlx4/s200/Monkenstein.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Probably the hardest  one to read. You never know when he's serious or not. In fact, on my  first day, he showed me a picture of himself so horrifying that it  immediately burned an image of itself in the left hemisphere of my  brain. It’s traumatic and I’m still receiving therapy for it. To this day, I’m still  unsure whether he showed it to impress or deliberately scare the h#$@ out  of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Why the nickname? It’s hearsay, but too often have I heard his shower buddies call him that. I wouldn't pry and ask why if I were you, but do ask to see his boobs dance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;So where did he get all  that muscle mass from? I think its Equilibrium. The balance that nature  enforces. For every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction. If  there’s a predominant gain in body mass somewhere, a proportion will be taken from the least  used muscle.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;(hint : the brain is a muscle).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Another great developer  resource. Or has the potential to be one. Remember the mini-google colleagues I  mentioned earlier? He's also like a search engine but unfortunatley only gives you one search result, which is : “I don’t know.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;When you’re really  lucky, you might even hear the fake and cheery voicemail thing : “You’ve  reached Jared and he’s currently unavailable. Would you like to leave a  message?” even though he’s standing in front of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Actually, I kid. He’s  one of the most reliable people around. Whenever I call in sick and need  a secretary, he’s always been there to turn on  my “out of office” or  help me send a couple of files over. Very dependable. Never calls in  sick. Early to work (also early to leave.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Kid’s name : Ryan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Fave Ringtone : Theme from The Empire Strikes Back (he seriously needs to change it.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Food expertise : Can cook a traditional hangi and a mean bacon/egg pie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Currently peeved at : His kid’s diaper habits. Often calls his baby boy “the pooping machine”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Weakness : Cannot tie his own shoelaces. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Suffering from : Freakishly obsessive-compulsive cleanliness disorder. &lt;i&gt;(For goodness sake!! Spraying Oust directly on to your colleagues when they're sniffling isn't what I'd consider normal.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Likely quoting : Arnold Schwarzenegger - "Dees eez mai vik amm" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Daily diet of : Weetbix, Apples, chop chop chicken or boneless chicken breast on rye bread.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Current TV : 32” Sony Rear Projection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Mobile Device : Nokia E91&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;      &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #7 : Contracting Dependency&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Before we proceed, have a close look at your ID Card.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Now look at the mirror.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Now look at your ID Card again. Do you see a Green or Blue ID?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Now look at the mirror again.  Do you see a pale, cynical life sucker staring back at you? If yes to  both of the above, then you could skip this section and proceed to #8.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Yes, The Contractors. Often called the Vampires of the industry. &lt;i&gt;Lotsus Cashus.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Slowly sucking away at company resources, bleeding it dry to the point where executives  wonder where the capital budget has gone resulting to budget cuts and outsourcing all  services to India.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; They are unstoppable and ubiquitous. Like their  namesake, they have the penchant to come back to the office no matter  how many times you've driven a stake to their hearts. However, their longevity  makes them great assets in terms of the information they retain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;A great source of  knowledge but hard to get detached to once you’re dependent. Probably what  Michael Jackson felt when kids leave Neverland? Too soon?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;If they do come too  close, just form your fingers in a cross like pattern and slowly back  away. Again, don’t look into their eyes or the fancy suits (e.g. Count  Manley the Impaler) or you’ll otherwise be drawn to their seemingly  irresistible charm which would most likely result in extending their contract for  another year or so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="157" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK-astF1lPI/AAAAAAAAAGI/-RHL_L0Ej-g/s400/Vamps2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Vampire. Vampires. And yep, another sparkling vampire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK-astF1lPI/AAAAAAAAAGI/-RHL_L0Ej-g/s1600/Vamps2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #8 : Overcome the language barrier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The people you’re going to work with will be as diverse as a homeless persons daily lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;So do yourself a favour and learn a few foreign words or so. This easily gets the point across&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Alex : No more tasks! – No es gebmee muchos tascos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Chantal : Can I try your lunch? – I Wana sam of ya flied lice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Jared : Please stop it with the cakes! – Kakite a cakee a-No!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;McCallum : [Any swear words are fine - he's a sailor and half Irish.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #9 : The Lolly Jar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Sugar does wonders. Some people don’t get it but there’s actually a reason why I keep the lolly jar close at hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;It’s purely  psychological.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Consumption of treats tend to be associated with an unhealthy lifestyle  and a precursor to high risk diseases. I've noticed that when my colleagues dip their fingers into the jar do they unconsciously  feel &lt;i&gt;guilty&lt;/i&gt; about the experience and quickly disappear after indulging - pretty similar to crims who don't stick around at the scene of the crime. It's handy having it at an arms length, so they focus on that more and leave, bothering other people in the process.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Disclaimer :  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Not all your colleagues have souls or the accompanying sense of guilt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;      &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip : Never ever ever  mix the minties with the lollies! Big mistake on my end. And don’t  forget to wash the metal scoop often as it always falls on the floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Tip #10 : Other floors and beyond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;You’re not just limited  to the people in your general vicinity. If you’re brave enough, you  could go exploring and plant flags ala Columbus. I personally have tried  all the toilets in the building, with Level 4 being my fave. True  story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1st Floor&lt;/b&gt; – Julie the Sentry Nazi. It’s Germany vs Poland 1939 all over again! I’ll leave this one for you to figure out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2nd Floor&lt;/b&gt; – A  mischievous mythical creature roam these halls. Be on your guard  whenever you’re sent down here as you might randomly meet the dreaded  Lochmonster! It preys on the unsuspectingly innocent, playing pranks,  generating insights, throws the word “propensity” around a bit, and  generally causes trouble. A pain in the ass and also bites. Ouch. =P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;4th Floor&lt;/b&gt; – Amid the  dull wallpaper and the dingy cobwebs dwell the Finance people. If you  hear the cackling and the boiling cauldron, then you’re already too close and too late. You have been warned!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Other points of  interest, are round the back. If you’re lucky, you might also see the head  honcho, Russell and some accounting trolls (Payroll).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;5th Floor&lt;/b&gt; – Don’t  really know anybody here, but they’ve got a nice sound proof break out  room with satellite TV. Also, the only floor in the building that has machines that  dispense baked beans and tuna tins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;6th Floor&lt;/b&gt; – The top of the mountain with perfect vantage points across all bearings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The only floor that lets you access the balcony where many a people have jumped off from frustration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Tip 11 : Breaking the space-time continuum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years (or months) from now, I want you to give yourself a good look in the mirror. Do you remember the first photo they took for your employee card? Compare that image to your reflection and note the differences. What do you see? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see an old man who looks like he went through 2 world wars, 3 tours in Afghanistan, was made to squat in a shallow pool of water and tortured with electric shock? Do you see a woman with big hips, who looks like she gave birth to two sets of triplets a couple of years in a row as well as having a bad Indian curry the night before? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If yes, then let me extend my congratulations once more! It looks like you’ve broken the laws of physics and travelled well ahead in the future. That’s what we call the Vodadrone Effect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my case, the calendar says I only did 3 years but it actually took a toll of 10 physically and mentally. All the stringy white hair, those wrinkles that looks like the Sahara’s sand dunes, crow’s feet, freckles, memory loss, flabby forearms, and arthritis are all visible symptoms, not to mention all the cynicism that’s clung to your back like a jungle monkey in heat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;So that’s it. This is  just a scratch on the surface and there’s still a lot of things to  uncover as well as dirty laundry to air. But I’ll leave that for you to  discover. What’s the fun with spoilers??? Vader is Luke’s father!  Dumbledore dies! Neo is the one! Bruce Willis is actually one of the  dead people! I didn’t give away too much did I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;So good luck on your  journey and your tenure with the company. Your team can be quirky but it  is, after all, what makes them unique. Have fun!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Signing off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6835618956184258767?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6835618956184258767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6835618956184258767&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6835618956184258767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6835618956184258767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2010/10/congratulations-new-recruit.html' title='Congratulations New Recruit!'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/TK2Ew307P0I/AAAAAAAAADU/HpW5fOB0thM/s72-c/bear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-266599683466908738</id><published>2009-12-11T12:27:00.003+13:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T13:22:19.084+13:00</updated><title type='text'>New Addition</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Select&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Al1.Baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;From&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Kate  Al1,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Jared  Al2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Where&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Al1.Id=Al2.Id&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Name='Ryan  Sidney Smeath'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Weight='6lb9oz'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Status='All  Good'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;Date='10/12/09  23:00'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the sort of sms you'd get from Jared announcing the arrival weetle Ryan. No pictures yet, so... I guess we can leave our criticisms for later?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, I'm wary with names not being gender specific so I gave him a ring and confirmed that it really is a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : "Are you sure it's a boy"&lt;br /&gt;Jared : "It's definitely a boy! and he's really blessed I tell yous! Look at that huge and long pen***.&lt;br /&gt;Me : "I wonder where he got it from" I was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;Jared : "Uh oh. Wait a second!" he says in a panicked voice. "The midwife's got her scissor's out and she's about to cut it away!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;"Noooooooooo!!" as I heard Jared's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="201512323-10122009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;hysterical scream coupled with a large crash in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : "That's the umbilical cord they're cutting isn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;Jared : "Noooooooo!!! Let my boy live the dream!!! Let him live the moment!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-266599683466908738?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/266599683466908738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=266599683466908738&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/266599683466908738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/266599683466908738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-addition.html' title='New Addition'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-166406196778724086</id><published>2009-06-26T16:46:00.005+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T16:56:57.795+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Orcas'/><title type='text'>Jetsetter finally settles down</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Michelle, who got married last year has finally announced that she's expecting a little bundle to add to the family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a failed solo singing career in the 80's, Michelle tried her hand in managing drag pop punk bands. She helped manage the sensation "Warehouse" which went on to sell several platinum albums. She was soon replaced by Jane when she decided to elope with her then boyfriend Guy Richard to Nepal under very mysterious circumstances. It was learned thereafter that they were wed by the Dalai Llama under his private temple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like all expecting mothers, me and my husband Richard would want to celebrate this  occasion in peace." She mentioned as she spoke to this reporter. "I wish the media would help us by f*** leaving us alone!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her obstetrician has informed her that everything's well and see no complications on the interim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether if it's a boy or a girl she replied : "Healthy. As long as it's healthy. I don't really care if it has a pipi or not!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's 20 weeks through and expecting her child on November 19.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with her feelings about her frustrating attempts at adoption : "That Malawi representative can certainly kiss my ass now!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in other news. Tony "The TC" Jang, half of the famed AC DC duo and acclaimed guitar spritualist, is rumoured to be in talks of splitting with his band. The long haired rockstar recently showed his displeasure by punching their lead vocal, Brett, during a live concert over a disagreement on what lyrics to use.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I repeatedly told Brett that the song would have to come from the depths of the soul! So why the fu*** did he say unicorns and rainbows?!?" TC says with a heated passion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brett response was of a similar tone. "I don't see the band working anymore after my nose being broken by a lead guitarist. He's a real jackass!! I'm not going to stay with no jackasses!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a surprise for the industry after just releasing their heavy metal platinum "Orcas on the Beach" which rocked the chart at a solid 6 weeks before being toppled by a replay of the deceased Michael Jackson's revival "Billie Jean"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Either I go solo or find another band again." Said TC agitated during the course of the interview. "I don't know how long my parents can keep me in their basement without a paying job."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-166406196778724086?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/166406196778724086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=166406196778724086&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/166406196778724086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/166406196778724086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2009/06/jetsetter-finally-settles-down.html' title='Jetsetter finally settles down'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3235365734590553231</id><published>2009-06-19T10:35:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T12:57:44.713+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maori'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='arrest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knocked up'/><title type='text'>Freeze!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Jared : Heya officer, is there anything wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police Officer : We got a complaint of an aggravated robbery and assault perpetrated by a maori man that completely fits your description. Short and stocky. Male. Big lips, big nose. Wearing a gray hoodie. Even your rugby shoes fit the description. Looks unused... very clean and sanitised to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared : You must be mistaken officer. I'm sure that wasn't me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : Okay, so you say. Where were you on the night of the 29th of March?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared : I'm sure I was with somebody. Just a second.... yeah, it was my honeymoon that day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : You won't believe how many times we hear that alibi! Now stop lying and fess up!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared :  Wait! I could prove it!! My wife, Kate, is pregnant right now and she's due exactly on Dec 29. That's exactly nine months!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : Are you telling me that you conceived exactly on the day of the wedding!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared : I think that's what happened officer!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : And Kate can verify that she was with you on that very night?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared : Yes sir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : So this baby got conceived exactly on the 29th? not on the 27th, not on the 30th? How about the 31st? I just find it too coincidental for that to happen. You sure you never touched her before that day?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared : As my hangi's my witness sir. I'm sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : I really find that hard to believe seeing that you were called "Jared the Manwhore" according to your previous police records. It says here that you even kept files of your whoring attempts... in Excel!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared : Uhhhhhhhh, not even ah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : I'm opening it now from your evidence file... this is shocking!! Look at all these names. Is this your blackbook? 65,536 rows in total!?!? Tsk tsk. Wait a minute... there's even a 2nd tab! Why scum like you disgust me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared : But I, I just wanted to know how many cells Excel can take. They're not true officer. I just made them up! Please believe me!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PO : Same way you made up what happened on the 29th eh? I may have to take you down to the precinct for some thorough questioning. Now spread your legs while I frisk you for... weapons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a couple of daughters. Crims who score women like that ought to be shot." the Police Officer says as he cuffs Jared and leads him to his patrol car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I leave the rest to your imagination. Congrats Jared and Kate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3235365734590553231?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3235365734590553231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3235365734590553231&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3235365734590553231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3235365734590553231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2009/06/freeze.html' title='Freeze!'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4924410158096897763</id><published>2009-06-08T17:31:00.004+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T17:37:53.339+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='horses'/><title type='text'>Down at the racetrack</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;You know it's a bad sign when your work colleagues start betting who of the late starters will arrive for work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I'm not an early bird type of person, but that doesn’t mean that your colleagues should be exchanging cash for your performance as a prized stallion. It really It sounded like we we're part of a horse derby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested, sarcastically of course, that maybe we should get our nicknames straightened out to officiate the betting process. e.g. Andrew should be called "Curly Blond" or "Goldilocks", but that idea quickly was shot down by Jared's smart-a** remark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then maybe your nickname should be 'she-male' Chris?!?" making an inference to my long, beatiful and silky black hair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bastard. I knew I brought that upon myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure you still want to go by nicknames?" Alex chimed in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly turned back to my screen, red faced while hearing Vicky laughing in the background. Maybe if I stay quiet and immobile for long, I'd blend in to my surroundings and become invisible - just like a cuttlefish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I took the high road instead and silently grumbled "wait 'til you see what this she-male can shove up you’re fat a**".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's out of the way, It kinda made me think what horsenames we'd get if we we all played the part:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nelle&lt;/span&gt; - Phar Laugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Andrew&lt;/span&gt; - Goldylocks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Muhhanad&lt;/span&gt; - Conspiracy Theory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vicky&lt;/span&gt; - Lolly Monster&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Peter G&lt;/span&gt; - Irish Nose Best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chantal&lt;/span&gt; - Shanghaiperion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Margaret&lt;/span&gt; - Ms Talkative&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jared&lt;/span&gt; - Politically Incorrect or Racially Insensitive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Claire&lt;/span&gt; - Half Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alex&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;del&gt;Nazi Manager&lt;/del&gt; Sweet Tooth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4924410158096897763?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4924410158096897763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4924410158096897763&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4924410158096897763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4924410158096897763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2009/06/down-at-racetrack.html' title='Down at the racetrack'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7027264644380285941</id><published>2008-10-31T15:11:00.007+13:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T16:33:05.231+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Taxi'/><title type='text'>Taxi Adventures - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;[Make sure you read the &lt;a href="http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/10/taxi-adventures.html"&gt;first&lt;/a&gt; part]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Don't ever, ever put me in a cab with that driver again!" was what the rep on the other end of  the line got told.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"In fact, I'd like to speak to somebody in charge." Jared said just to take this thing further.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yes sir, what can I possibly help you with?" Said the manager as he got transferred.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I didn't like the way the last driver treated me on my way here!" Jared said with annoyance. With that, he whipped out his pda, opened his mini spreadsheet and basically outlined the reasons why he didn't like the driver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;* Wasn't very friendly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;* Was arrogant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;* Didn't like the fact that I was only a couple of minutes late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;* Didn't like my flabby body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;* Didn't like the way I was moving my man boobies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;What can the manager do but apologise, right? Then again, Jared was in his right to do so. He rarely complains except when people really gets on his nerves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Well just make sure you tell your employee. Right?" with as much authority as possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Very well sir." said the manager professionally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"By the way, can I make another cab booking in 5 minutes please? Thanks." He postulated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After a couple of minutes, Jared quickly hopped on the back seat of the taxi which promptly came. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I'm going up to Symonds St. please" he said as he buckled his seat belt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After a couple of minutes driving, it started to dawn on him that this cab looked very, very familiar. Even the magazines that were strewn on the seat pressed on at the back of his mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It suddenly dawned upon him, as he looked at the driver, that it was the exact same cabbie that he had the argument with earlier. (I sh*t you not as this apparently happened.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Oh, motherf*!, of all the taxis why would I get this one?" he silently told himself. "And after what I told them on the phone? Sheez!."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jared decided not inflame situation, as you'd never want to aggravate the person driving you around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;All of a sudden, the cabbie's mobile alert system gave off a distinct noise and message indicating that he cancel his current pickup. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The driver at this point really didn't realise who he picked up and was bewildered why the cancellation would take place when he's already got the fare on his back seat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After a long pause, Jared finally said something. "Oh, I know why they're cancelling that." he said a matter-of- factly. "It's because I called in a couple of minutes ago and told them about how I was unhappy with your service earlier."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The driver suddenly went ballistic. With his mouth foaming, he grabbed the wheel with his two huge hands, leaned forward as close to the steering wheel as possible ala Collin Mcrae mode. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now this was a cab driver you definitely wouldn't get on the back seat off - even if you were drunk, passed out, or badly had to go to use the toilet. He literally slammed on the gas as he weaved through the busy streets of Auckland like a crazed maniac on steroids. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jared was holding on for dear life... screaming like a girl. It sounded like it was a cross between a wild boar getting slaughtered and Michael Jackson's high pitched cry should you kick him in the nuts. It's also the same sort of dinosaur sound that Tracy would make if you poked her with a very sharp stick.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Disclaimer : The last couple of paragraphs may or may not have happened.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But in reality, what really happened during that ride back was a long awkward silence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7027264644380285941?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7027264644380285941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7027264644380285941&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7027264644380285941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7027264644380285941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/10/taxi-adventures-part-2.html' title='Taxi Adventures - Part 2'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2921161558095916448</id><published>2008-10-02T12:06:00.011+13:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T14:44:41.359+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Taxi Adventures</title><content type='html'>With the entire team &lt;del&gt;kicked out&lt;/del&gt; relocating, everybody had to cope with some sort of adjustment added to their daily ritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of that adjustment's calling company sanctioned cabs to shuttle you back to the mothership. Which happens every ever so oftehn whenever you're asked to deal with the &lt;del&gt;more important&lt;/del&gt;  company people who demands your attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't long before 'incidents' started to happen. And like most incidents, Jared was the most likely person this would've happened to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sit on the 10th floor, which wasn't bad, as it gave us spectacular views of the locale. (When I say views, I meant being surrounded by towering dorm slash aparments meant to house those sleep-deprived-inebriated university students crammed into every inch of space available. The corpses resting in the underground catacombs of Paris fared much better, I say.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it all started when I noticed Jared pacing back and forth &lt;del&gt; like a crazed bull&lt;/del&gt;  from the window aisle he was conveniently 'given'.  He kept peering over waiting for something which I learned later on to be a taxi cab he booked earlier. He finally went off and it wasn't after a couple of hours before we came back and heard what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Grrrrr. Those taxis are really a pain in the behind." He announced to the entire team. "I hop on my taxi and guess what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I get this pissed off driver" he continued "who suddenly went on and on about how late I was!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You were supposed to be here 7 minutes ago!" The cabbie said as Jared continued his story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't know if the guy was serious or just making a passing rant. So he shrugged it off and just hopped in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I did look out for you." Jared says as he was putting his seatbelt on "It's just that you were parked from way beyond the road where I can't see you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You did not even say sorry that you were late." Seemingly oblivious to Jared's apologetic tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay. Okay  I'm sorry I didn't see you." Which was surprising as I've never heard Jared apologise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi guy says "It's too late for that now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's apparently the part where you could see the steam shooting off Jared's ears (perhaps a side effect of hangi?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You 'people' cost be about 25 minutes a week just waiting for you after an agreed time." cab guy answers irritably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was probably the stick that broke the camels back as Jared decided to match his wits with the driver... which probably didn't amount to much considering the lack of brain matter on one of the participants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhibit A :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/SQkJiNwh6_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/05F4ZGlNpns/s1600-h/wits.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 83px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/SQkJiNwh6_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/05F4ZGlNpns/s200/wits.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262748122972548082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I had no doubt that Jared still managed to hold his own against this guy. He certainly can do anything with the right motivation. e.g. eat a entire horse without blinking. The vicious exchange apparently went on for the entire duration of the ride. I wish I was present just typing the transcript of the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would have ended there but... [Stay tuned to Taxi Adventures 2]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2921161558095916448?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2921161558095916448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2921161558095916448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2921161558095916448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2921161558095916448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/10/taxi-adventures.html' title='Taxi Adventures'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/SQkJiNwh6_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/05F4ZGlNpns/s72-c/wits.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7708569355775127664</id><published>2008-07-14T14:03:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T14:03:49.243+12:00</updated><title type='text'>What's for lunch?</title><content type='html'>I forgot when the last time i had lunch was, since I stopped working with you lot. What's for lunch?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7708569355775127664?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7708569355775127664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7708569355775127664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7708569355775127664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7708569355775127664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/07/whats-for-lunch.html' title='What&apos;s for lunch?'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6869462053144830953</id><published>2008-05-30T16:41:00.004+12:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T16:53:18.003+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Queenstown'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tour'/><title type='text'>Jared on Tour</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jared, who recently came back from a Queenstown trip, was ecstatic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We went on a jet boat, went on bus tours, jumped on a quad bike, jet boat, luge, etc. etc." He  droned on as he mentioned, in detail, the awesome time he had in the south's peremiere holiday spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about what I was doing when he went away. I believe I was checking the Herald regularly to see if the town he went to had any sort of bungy jumping accidents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uhm Sir, are you sure this cable would be enough to hold my weight?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yesireee, that's for certain. Even if an African Elephant were to jump, I'm purty certain our cable would still be able to hold."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you saying I'm fat?!?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no, not at all, Sir." The proprietor said defensively. "Am just sayin' that this cable right o'er 'ere is capable of pulling a medium sized Beluga whale off the beach."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'll leave the rest of this violent and blubberous scene to your imagination.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, let's move on to the part of the trip where they hopped on a bus and went on to see the scenery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus driver, who happened to be the tour guide was rattling on about how the locals were a funny bit of people. He mentioned that its part of their culture picking fights with everybody just because it's fun. How awkward, coz for those who don't know, Jared, is a local - obviously not apparent to the bus driver as he just blabbed on about them 'natives'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, why would a local take a tour of his own country anyway? Is it possible that he's looking for more land to reclaim?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhows, the bus driver was just having a great time pointing out the culture and the diversity - oblivious that one of his passengers was seething, ready to pop. This soon got aggravated by the events at the next stop, where he found that another cheeky tourist seemingly flicked their bags aside and somewhat settled himself rather cosily on their seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing in our seat?" "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seats ain't fixed." The man says with an Aussie twang. "and blimey!, lots of them tourists have moved around 'lready."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which obviously wasn’t the case when Jared asked around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Grrrr..." Jared thought (or whatever sound he makes when he's mad) "This guy is pissing me off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir" he said with as much restraint as possible. "I see that your seat is still vacant and that all the people havent moved from where they were sitting before. Can I please ask you to move?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy says "No, I won't move."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm asking again, would you kindly move out of our seats?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no, no!" "This will be the last time I'm going to ask you. You heard what the tour guide said about those funny indigenous people who just picks fights for fun? You're looking at one right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;Like my previous post from months before, Jared starts the Maori ritual of starting a fight. He sticks his tongue out, puffing his eyes, as he vigorously uses his right hand in a wave like motion for intimidation. The tourists just went wild, with everybody chanting, "Kill! Kill! Kill!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driver panics and runs off, knowing full well what to expect from these natives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was mayhem, as Jared did some of his muscle flexing. I can't tell you if the tourists were experiencing some horrible pain seeing him do that, or if they were wanting a fight to break out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of odd minutes strutting his stuff, Jared plunges his hand straight to the kangaroo man's chest and  pulls his throbbing heart out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man's screams were drowned by an elderly couple from Bosnia shouting, "Eat the Heart! eat the Heart, eat the Hearrrrrrrttttt" which Jared obligingly does.&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy finally realised that it's one of the battles he can't win and takes off making incomprehensible disgruntled noises. The guy never moved from his seat again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How's that for a tour?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6869462053144830953?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6869462053144830953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6869462053144830953&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6869462053144830953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6869462053144830953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/05/jared-on-tour.html' title='Jared on Tour'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8054390398363719486</id><published>2008-05-12T11:03:00.004+12:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T11:13:52.499+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Changes'/><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;[Edit : Look at how behind I am! I was supposed to post this at the beginning of the year but just got around to. I'm halfway trying to complete my manager's annual survey, and thought that I might just need a break and finally post this.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;January 2008. The first 'official' work day of the year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Those who showed up looked fresh and relaxed from their long holiday break. I see Tracy, Zoey, Jared, Andrew on our side of the pod. All bright eyed, bushy tailed etc etc - seemingly looking busy, tapping away at their keyboards. Don't you love it when you see everybody like this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Not unlike the zombies I used to mingle with last year. No red eyes, no moaning and groaning, no sharp teeth and no biting. Doesn't it create a pleasant atmosphere where, when you wake up in the morning, all you want to do is work, work, work?!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;*I threw up soon after I finished this sentence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So I plop down on my seat, login and look at some of the empty desks around me. Tsk tsk. Awfully quiet. Zoey hardly speaks to me, Rwanda, our low flying airplane, has gone maternal, and Tracy, Tracy Tracy. Tracy never talks to us except when she wants something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It always starts with "Hey.... (insert a real lonnnng pause here - which I suspect is the time it takes for her to remember our names.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"...what do you know about (insert topic here)?" She continues. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I find this really annoying as I've already been caught turning my head too many times after she says "Hey", only to find out that she's after Zoey who sits right beside me. I think she does it on purpose, as she always cups her hand to her mouth to suppress her evil laugh (and big teeth).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, back to me, as I glance around the mostly empty desks. There were some changes indeed. I shake my head at Rwanda's desk as it looks more and more like inorganic day. I already notice some spiders building webs on her screen and a couple of squirrels hanging about chitchatting about this seasons chestnut harvest. Tsk Tsk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I personally use her chair as a coat hanger now, which is just about the right size. Will definitely come in handy during winter where you could hang a couple of coats side by side. I find that I'm just too lazy walking down to where the real coat hanger is (which I'll be calling George). Also, before you get to George there's this danger of venturing near the T-Rex dinosaur paddocks as well - better be safe than to get bitten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;By about mid-morning Cesar comes down from the 4th floor and takes out some some treats from Peru. How really nice of him sharing pretty exotic goodies from his holiday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Lucuma is what we call them." Cesar mentions as I carefully inspect the pastry. "It only grows natively in Peru high atop the ancient pyramids of the Mayas where the virgins hearts are cut out in honor of the Sun God Saludos."** Interesting, I though as I bit into my first piece. Hmmm. Tastes pretty good actually. It's not strong as you barely taste the fruity flavor between the wafers it was enclosed in, but yummy nevertheless. Cesar also brought in some marshmallowy-puffy-thingies which probably came from the local dairy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;**This may or may not be true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;By midday, we decided to celebrate our first yearly lunch be going down to the local cafe. It's always good to start off with where your roots are, so this was the natural choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Expecting changes, I thought that they'd have more things on the menu, but pretty much the same old thing on offer from last year. Even Tracy's pick stayed the same - she got the same fave from last year (buttered fig muffins and scones)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The tuna pide (a type of bread - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PIDE"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PIDE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;) looked tasty which I decided to have. but tasted worse off than before, I mean, where did the caramelised onions go? Why'd it take longer to toast my sandwich? So that's where the changes happened, I thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Our conversations weren't that different from before though. "So what did you do for the break?", "Did you go anywhere?", "What are you going to do on Friday?" Blah blah blah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I did some squats last night and gave my ass muscles a workout" Jared abruptly says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I nearly spat out the tuna I was chewing on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I know, I know" he added. "Too much info." (But something he surprisingly squeezed in the conversation.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I closed my eyes and tried to get that horrible hairy image out of my head. Not that I've seen it personally! I'm no expert but I watch a lot of documentaries including Gorillas in the Mist. So I kid you not when I say that I have a pretty good idea on the number of indeterminate hair on their lower backs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tracy, as perceptive as ever, states the obvious over my sudden discomfort over the subject.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"You can't get the image off your mind, huh?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I gave her a frown and thought, "No, unlike you Tracy, I haven't been desensitised at home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's obvious that our lunch conversations haven't evolved. They still retains the down, dirty and crude interpretations of opinions. There are missing gaps however. As people leave, they take along some of the expresiveness that you've grown fond of. e.g. one less person doing the eye rolling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Which led me to ponder what this year's plot would bring about. More of the same? Or more twists than this season's episode of Lost?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8054390398363719486?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8054390398363719486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8054390398363719486&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8054390398363719486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8054390398363719486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/05/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-587588755053285534</id><published>2008-04-01T11:31:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T11:33:36.310+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='April'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fill'/><title type='text'>Refill</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"You're what?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm expecting!" Chantal says excitedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're pregnant?!?" I say in disbelief. "How did this happen??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"..." Chantal was just speechless that I asked that question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, sorry, that was my english gone wrong. I mean, I didn't ask how you did it but..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal was more embarassed than ever and had that look of a person about to give someone a good beating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... tell me what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Of course I know what exactly happened! I seem to be on a streak of asking these stupid questions. It must be the coffee I had this morning.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal was obviously displeased with my questions and was about to run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, sorry, sorry but seriously, when are you due?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"October"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning from my indescretion earlier, I thought carefully before I opened my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you did it on the boat huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a slap for that one. Stars appeared but was pleased that I was still shakily holding my can of coke. She grabs her cup sitting on her desk and huffingly heads over to the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wait! Wait! At least tell me if you did it on the lower decks or the suite? I'd be able to tell you if it's a girl or a boy!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope she doesn't go back throws her re-rilled cup to my face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-587588755053285534?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/587588755053285534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=587588755053285534&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/587588755053285534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/587588755053285534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/04/refill.html' title='Refill'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-9212138729188456993</id><published>2008-03-17T17:25:00.002+13:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T17:32:36.929+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Said Chris</title><content type='html'>Lo-o-o-nely, I'm so lo-o-o-nely.... &lt;br /&gt;I have nobody,&lt;br /&gt;To call my owwnnn&lt;br /&gt;I'm so lonely, I'm Mr Lonely&lt;br /&gt;I have nobody,&lt;br /&gt;To call my owwnnn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most girls have packed their tiny suitcases and left. It all started when Chris has moved into the pod and would not share McMuffins. So the friendship ideals crashed and we decided to split and go our separate ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First left Trace (albeit temporarily), then Jenita, then Margaret, then Debbie (unknowingly also temporarily), then Jane, then I left (also temporarily), then Trace left again (Flying Spaghetti Monster knows for how long this time), and i have a suspicion Debs would soon leave again (and will never come back). I guess we could also say Tony left, as he's got long hair and does look like a girl from behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal - your turn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christ will be very lo-o-o-nely in his pod yet again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-9212138729188456993?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/9212138729188456993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=9212138729188456993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9212138729188456993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9212138729188456993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/03/said-chris.html' title='Said Chris'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1501650634455761210</id><published>2008-02-01T11:04:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T11:08:50.033+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='High Heels'/><title type='text'>Tracy writes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I was meaning to write on the blog." Tracy says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You said that two weeks ago." I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually, I think I said that last year."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coaxing her to write on the blog is becoming more like showing clams to play fetch. I wouldn't have been persisted if we didn't have this writer's strike going on. But desperate times do stimulate creative stories. I ruffle through my backpack and put my purple pretend cap on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if.... Dum dum dum! [Drum roll].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if... Tracy did write on the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Cue dreamy sound effect transition here...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris told me I looked different today when we were walking down to the lunch bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you swap clothes from this morning?" He says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I actually got a haircut!" I proudly say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No wonder you look so different."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well duh! Chris really doesn't have a clue, he still looks perplexed and stares at me like a deer waiting for an incoming car. I waved my hands like a penguin to get him back to reality. Last thing I want to happen is him veering off (which happens often) and crashing with tangle of hair. Messy. I've never even dreamed of picking clumps of hair in the highway. Now I know how it feels like to be the person waxing Jared. Ewwwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, "Why doesn't everybody notice?" I thought. To think that I could smell freshly cut hair a mile away. In fact, I smell it even further when I wear my high heels. Although, my sense of smell doesn't work that well when I wear my boots. I wonder why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which reminds me not to wear those red Manolo Blanoc high heels again. They really left some really ugly scars. Poor Chris, he should have known better not to feed Lucas some chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grab my favourite pen and started to write that thought down on my handy notepad. "Hmmmm. I wish I had bigger hands. I just keep filling mine up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally got to the bakery and was quite annoyed with the long queue. Arggggh. I hate waiting. If I wasn't wearing my summer dress I would've elbowed my way to the front.&lt;br /&gt;Summer dress is equal to lady-like. Which I am. Those high heels would've come in handy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have brought lunch but Tim's been eating all the bread at home. "Grrrrr." I thought as I write another reminder to buy a lock and key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grab my usual chicken sandwich and annoy Chris by grabbing the serviettes first, just as he was about to reach for them. "Har har har." I chuckle as he puts on his frowny face. I'm soooo evil sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met Jared whom we left chatting with his friend from his previous work. Chris makes a comment about him looking similar to Jared. I play nice and quietly laugh instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Minutes was how long it took to finish my lunch. "I'm not trying to be rude guys." I say as I excused myself out of the table. "It's just that I've got so much stuff to do, and... you know?" I'm actually just over these guys. All Jared talks about is sports, his bum and his big arms. Chris can't seem to finish his gardening. Blah blah blah. I think I'll just hang around with Zoey and annoy her with my stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey!.... Zoey!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Cue another dreamy sound effecct transition here. Fade out.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1501650634455761210?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1501650634455761210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1501650634455761210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1501650634455761210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1501650634455761210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-was-meaning-to-write-on-blog.html' title='Tracy writes'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2736156967572754356</id><published>2008-01-31T22:04:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T05:51:56.709+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog'/><title type='text'>Her blog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;What if... Rayana was sooo bored that she actually started blogging?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;08:30 – Alarm rings but I whack it with a broom and go back to sleep.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;09:30 – I finally drag myself out of bed and suddenly have this urge to bake some raspberry muffins.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;09:32 – I check my email before I go to the bathroom. Hrmmmph (or whatever a pregnant lady sounds). No new mail.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;10:01 – Baby kicked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;10:20 – With the muffins finally in the oven. My husband, Will, tries to amuse me with juggling to ease me out of my lethargic state.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;11:31 – Un-amused, I hit Will with my broom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;11:32 – I check my email and visit reddit.com&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;12:25 – After waiting an eternity for my muffins to cool down, I gorge myself and stuff as many in my mouth as I can.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;12:25:30 – I choke on a raspberry.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;12:27 – I suddenly realize I have another mouth to feed and grab 2 more muffins .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;12:33- Will trots in the kitchen and  asks "where the m muffins at?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;12:34 – I check my email. And check the bafl blog. Why doesn’t anybody write anymore???&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;15:35 – Tummy rumbles and suddenly have another big craving for pasta.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;15:40 – I prepare the ingredients.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;15:41 – I check my email and write a quick note. Checked bafl again just in case. Damn! No postings!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;16:20 – Pasta-filled, I waddle down to the sofa and lie down.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;16:21 – Baby rolls. I ignore it and take a nap. Baby kicks me again telling me to re-position.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;17:30- Watch TV&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;17:40 – Decided to have my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="0"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;midnight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt; snack early&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;18:00 – Watch more TV. Where the f$#%$#^# is House!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;18:30 – Bored again. I grab a book and start reading.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;18:42 – I prepare supper. This time baked some potatoes and other veggies. Heavenly!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;19:38 – I “tell” Will to do the dishes. He makes a face but it’s nothing a broom can fix.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;20:20 – I don’t think I had dessert. I waddle down this time to the fridge to get some ice cream. Whew! Tough job!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;21:00 – Received an email. Apparently Engr. Usman Malika &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;wants my assistance on a confidential but a mutually beneficial transaction. He’s from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;Nigeria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;21:32 – Finished a couple of chapters off my book.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;22:32 – Feel sleepy. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;22:33 – Washed up, changed and went to bed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;22:39 – I cursed and realized that I forgot my broom downstairs. I tried for a few minutes to get up.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;22:42 – I gave up and went to sleep.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"  &gt;02:00 – Dreamt of flying muffins.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2736156967572754356?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2736156967572754356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2736156967572754356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2736156967572754356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2736156967572754356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/01/her-blog.html' title='Her blog.'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-704252260385276413</id><published>2008-01-23T13:46:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:31.210+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2008'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Predictions'/><title type='text'>2008 Predictions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/R5aSB-TwE8I/AAAAAAAAABs/OXo8xD8a7R0/s1600-h/nostradamus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158470985802847170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="104" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/R5aSB-TwE8I/AAAAAAAAABs/OXo8xD8a7R0/s200/nostradamus.jpg" width="137" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's that time of the year again, where we look forward and try to optimistically see what's in store. Here's a stab on what I think will happen this year:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tracy bakes her first cake ever - with disastrous results. Lucas gets Cake-o-phobia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Vicki finally changes her ring tone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Rayana enjoys being a mum so much she gets preggers again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jared pokes his eye on the stripper they hire for his Bachelor party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hillary becomes the first female president of the US.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The NZ Herald goes on the intranet's banned list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Paul decides that the country life is more for him and becomes a kumara farmer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After a long dry spell, Tracy over-indulges in chocolate and gains a few lbs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tina adopts 2 more cats. Her 2nd book also gets published.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Google phone comes out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Somebody tampers into the campaign tool and changes all instances of "Rob" to "Wob"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Chantal finally complains. omg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jared loses 7 lbs but Kate gains a lot more than that in her tummy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;SSDs drop in price and gain popularity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jenita gets engaged to her long time boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Darren wins the Bin Laden look alike contest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tracy goes on a big holiday with Lucas, leaving her husband behind who's known to be a flight risk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tanja decides to try something different and gets a perm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After another blow to her custody battle, Britney is deemed suicidal and gets institutionalised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nelle gains a few lbs from her holiday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After her wedding, Michelle decides to become a stay at home mum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tired of all the trans-tasman jokes, Jane decides to go back to Australia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Professor Snapes is also gay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Adele, not satisfied with what the builders are doing, renovates all the way through 2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The lolly jar is magically enchanted and never runs dry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Andrew names his twins, Luke and Leia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Claire finally sorts out the leaky house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tony returns. So does the Joker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jared's sex tape is accidentally leaked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Chris infuriates Tracy by secretly feeding&lt;/span&gt; Lucas some Chocolate cake.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-704252260385276413?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/704252260385276413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=704252260385276413&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/704252260385276413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/704252260385276413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008-predictions.html' title='2008 Predictions'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/R5aSB-TwE8I/AAAAAAAAABs/OXo8xD8a7R0/s72-c/nostradamus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3485504076656293620</id><published>2007-12-21T11:52:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T12:01:22.702+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lindsay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lollies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><title type='text'>Lollies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's Lindsay's last day so I dragged &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;myself&lt;/span&gt; along with Trace who was tasked to procure a farewell gift for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So should we head round to the flower shop then?" Tracy mentions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno, I'm just coming along for a walk." I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Actually, it's more useful for me to finally observe what Trace's shopping habits are. I'm planning on writing a documentary for National &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Geographic's&lt;/span&gt; Jurassic Shopping Habits not knowing how terribly complicated it was.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went inside the local mall and perused what wares the florist had on display. Pretty soon, Tracy got bored and asked me if I wanted to go and check out the local mart where "everyone gets a bargain." Or as what Tina would put it "where everyone gets a hard*n." Yuk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, sure." I said, quite surprised thinking that they also sold flowers there - but soon realised how wrong I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With her taking the lead, we went from the tool section, on to the baby section, and to the underwear section where Tracy abruptly stopped and dangled some knickers in front of me saying "ooh la la!." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Embarrassed&lt;/span&gt;, I turned deep red as I saw a couple of ladies from the corner of my eye &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ogling&lt;/span&gt; at us. I tried to run away but was unsuccessful as she ran after me twirling a couple of bras like a helicopter.* (Okay, the last sentence &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; really happen.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whew!" I sighed, as I ran to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;xmas&lt;/span&gt; lolly section to take refuge. I grabbed a big mixed pack as It was supposed to be my turn filling up our communal office lolly jar. Tina's and Vicki's really been diligent filling (and eating) it up - they love their lollies. In fact, Tina had her tooth filling done lately, which didn't stop her from trying out the sweets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's the reason why I had my teeth done in the first place, to eat more of these." She said to me once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I motioned to Tracy that I'm done while she's looking at some baby suits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know those pink suits would definitely go with Lucas' eyes" I said, not realising that she was looking for ideas for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Rayloc's&lt;/span&gt; maternal farewell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha ha. Funny!" Tracy laughs baring her white (and sharp) teeth. I could never really tell if she's genuinely amused or holding off strangling me. It's a sign that I've been watching too much animal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;docos&lt;/span&gt; as I could have sworn that's the way a lion snarls at you just right before you get jumped on and get gnawed to bits. I mentally take a note not to piss her off too much - as I wasn't sure when she might snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head to the counter to pay for my goodies but made a quick stopover when I saw the "proper" lolly lane. My mouth just went open as I stared at the shelves and shelves fully packed with treats. Oh the joy! And look at those discounts! It truly felt like I'm getting a bargain! I grabbed a couple of pineapple lumps, some fruits bursts, and spent more time trying to decide whether to get wiggly worms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, Tracy was around to rouse me off my blank state and drag me to the nearest checkout.&lt;br /&gt;We finally got back to the florist - and decided to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Linsday&lt;/span&gt; an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;xmas&lt;/span&gt; plant rather than flowers. Lasts longer - but unsure if Lindsay wants to remember us after her retirement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The walk back was fun. I had to carry all the heavy stuff but got a quick break after tricking Tracy saying I was hot and needed to get my jacket off. I still owe her for saving my life though as she caught me just in time the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;blustery&lt;/span&gt; wind was about to blow me out to sea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3485504076656293620?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3485504076656293620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3485504076656293620&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3485504076656293620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3485504076656293620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/12/lollies.html' title='Lollies'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6075077204289569705</id><published>2007-12-10T13:28:00.001+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:31.407+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slap'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wind'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stomach'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='subway'/><title type='text'>6-inch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R1yIiSJjN-I/AAAAAAAABtM/vVWCYRjI2nI/s1600-h/subway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R1yIiSJjN-I/AAAAAAAABtM/vVWCYRjI2nI/s200/subway.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142134997119088610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walked to Subway for lunch today with Subway being the closest food place and the weather being windy and threatening with drops of water on our heads. Chris had to hide behind me as the largest object in our lunch bunch nowadays, so that the wind doesn't pick him up and fly him 2 steps back for every step forward. Tracy was gone in a nostalgic memory of Wellington days, while Jared could only think of Subway. Can't help but remember Homer trying to think and all he sees in his mind is a donut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about a 10 minute wait in the queue and meaningless conversations about different types of subs each of us will have it's Tracy's turn to order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "I'll have a 6-inch BMT. Thanks!" Which is completely different to what she said she will have, but her favorite. The order guy started piling up a tiny piece of bread with ham, when she looks at me. "Does that look like a 6 inch to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of those questions where you shouldn't ever hesitate: "Does my butt look big in this?", "Do you think I gained some weight?" and I enthusiastically respond: "No!". So Tracy turns back to the order guy: "This is a very small 6-inch" by pointing her finger at it. All things being equal…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He patiently unsticks the ham, salami and other things he so neatly packed on that small 6-inch, gets another piece of bread and cuts off about 60% of it just for Trace before her short paws reach out and tear the 6-inch apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's much better!" I say just as enthusiastically to the guy, when I get a sharp nudge from Chris to stop annoying the guy. Thank goodness they make you a sub right in front of you, so you know no extra spit-spice goes in it. Right Trace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we get our subs we are back on our way towards the building with the wind in our backs now. Holding Chris by his jacket, so he doesn't fly off we try to listen in to what Tracy and Jared are talking about but no luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared is gesticulating wildly, showing someone slapping his face and then describing something that involves a large stomach?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you think they are talking about?" I ask Chris.&lt;br /&gt;"I think he got slapped on the weekend" replies the flying stick.&lt;br /&gt;"What was that gesture about a big stomach?" I cautiously ask while rubbing my own sack of potatoes that seems to be growing every hour now.&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe his stomach got bigger"&lt;br /&gt;"After he got slapped?"&lt;br /&gt;"Possibly"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy and Jared look at each other, rolling their eyes as far back as possible: "Can you give us the stuff you are on?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only later during lunch when we were discussing how hard it is to get your loved pets into this country and how donkeys are really cool animals to keep and how you should never trust movers packing your stuff and how early one needs to get up to make it to work from the west, Jared ventured off topic as usual and described how a big wave splashed over him while he was walking in Mission Bay. It's a really important incident: wave splashing over. More important than say movers stealing a pack of really expensive kitchen knives or packing a grill from the oven, just cos it was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least Chris and I finally understood who slapped him. We are yet to find out why his stomach got bigger though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6075077204289569705?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6075077204289569705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6075077204289569705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6075077204289569705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6075077204289569705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/12/6-inch.html' title='6-inch'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R1yIiSJjN-I/AAAAAAAABtM/vVWCYRjI2nI/s72-c/subway.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5889446817084302090</id><published>2007-11-30T11:29:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T16:31:21.651+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Whiteboard'/><title type='text'>Mishap</title><content type='html'>Office highlight for the Day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy butting heads with the mobile whiteboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tune in next week for more of National Geographic's "Extreme Jurassic Mating Rituals".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5889446817084302090?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5889446817084302090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5889446817084302090&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5889446817084302090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5889446817084302090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/11/mishap.html' title='Mishap'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7021998042726421212</id><published>2007-11-21T21:11:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T16:56:20.825+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Date'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Derek'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wob'/><title type='text'>Who is Derek McDreamy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Almost four days gone, just came back from a sickie.&lt;br /&gt;A lot of things have happened which rather surprised me.&lt;br /&gt;My inbox was full of spam and banter,&lt;br /&gt;including Wob's adventures which skipped another chapter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logging onto my machine I was dreading,&lt;br /&gt;as my inbox, I'm sure was overflowing.&lt;br /&gt;All messages deleted from Rayana "The Spammer" was easy,&lt;br /&gt;but what caught my eye were emails about McDreamy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that wob managed to meet up with a mate,&lt;br /&gt;ending up on Subway for his very first date. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The name is Derek, Derek McDreamy.&lt;br /&gt;An irish perhaps? Or a scottish laddie?&lt;br /&gt;I first thought upon hearing that Wob's finally come out of the closet,&lt;br /&gt;to reveal to the world his innermost secret.&lt;br /&gt;But was I mistaken, that just like Sam,&lt;br /&gt;Derek's a lady - far, far from being a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apologies Sam, as I know you'll be reading.&lt;br /&gt;As you know that names are a bit misleading.&lt;br /&gt;That didn't stop me though from thinking back,&lt;br /&gt;that I originally thought you were a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let's focus more on Wob's new vice,&lt;br /&gt;Which led him to ask us lot for desperate advice.&lt;br /&gt;"How should I impress her? or "What sort of flowers should I bring?",&lt;br /&gt;to "What type of shirt would be most appealing".&lt;br /&gt;"Not the pity sex shirt" Rayana was saying.&lt;br /&gt;"It doesn't matter, you'll never get any." was what I was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So who is she?&lt;br /&gt;Who's this new girl who just happened to be?&lt;br /&gt;It would've been nice if somebody gave us a clue,&lt;br /&gt;on how she was tricked to hang out with our dude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blonde? or black flowing hair?&lt;br /&gt;A pimple perhaps or some facial hair?&lt;br /&gt;I beg thee wob, at least get a picture snapped.&lt;br /&gt;Be careful when you do it though, as you might get slapped.&lt;br /&gt;The last thing you need is a warrant to serve,&lt;br /&gt;To be forever branded as a shutterbug perv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the last post we know that the first date was a marvel.&lt;br /&gt;As he got a peck on the cheek for his trouble.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure at this point he got to show off his powers,&lt;br /&gt;By turning bright red and sweating under the covers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can't wait what the dreaded second date would entail,&lt;br /&gt;First base? Second base? or leg between his tails?&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I'm sure he'll end this date a marchin'.&lt;br /&gt;Even if he seems like a 27 year old virgin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I come to the end of this post.&lt;br /&gt;We never got to answer what matters most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just who is Derek McDreamy?&lt;br /&gt;A fictional character? or a monster of the sea?&lt;br /&gt;You better let us know - the suspense is killing me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7021998042726421212?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7021998042726421212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7021998042726421212&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7021998042726421212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7021998042726421212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/11/who-is-derek-mcdreamy.html' title='Who is Derek McDreamy?'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4011553603783976078</id><published>2007-11-19T14:34:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:31.838+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Wob's adventures with Derek</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R0DwuVr-9CI/AAAAAAAABrs/_DxxwsshQoM/s1600-h/Image018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R0DwuVr-9CI/AAAAAAAABrs/_DxxwsshQoM/s200/Image018.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134368254088639522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As we all know by now, Sam has not forgiven Rob for his "old woman" comment (see &lt;a href="http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/wob.html"&gt;Wob&lt;/a&gt;) . Since then the free morning breakfasts have stopped and so did the evening meals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night girl hunting ended before it began a week ago, when Rob met Derek McDreamy, the person of his dreams. Sam had her usual share of wine and decided to call it quits for the night as a Tuesday lunch date was established.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a dream come true when Derek accepted Robs offer of a date. He knew when he looked into her eyes it was love at first sight but was not sure she felt the same. How fortuitous that he had moved a month earlier to Auckland with the company that he had learned to love and respect a long time ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob has been anxiously awaiting that date, asking everyone around "should I bring a single flower?", "shall I offer to pay for drinks?", "shall we go to a casual place, or somewhere slightly classier should do for a first date?", "should I wear something different than Pity-sex t-shirt?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Tuesday finally arrived, he zoomed out of the door with the same speed he usually blushes when you ask him 'How is Derek?'. As he ran across the street, he looked back to ensure none of us follow him and take videos of the date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R0DuKVr-9BI/AAAAAAAABrk/ieQ363pxx00/s1600-h/362px-Bilbao_BUM_Flavor_Flav_open_art.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R0DuKVr-9BI/AAAAAAAABrk/ieQ363pxx00/s200/362px-Bilbao_BUM_Flavor_Flav_open_art.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134365436590093330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The date continued in the dreamlike fashion, Derek made conversation that only Flavor Flav could have rivalled and dressed like a sparkle princess. They enjoyed a fine delicacy of food from Subway before having to part (lips) to go back to work. Derek obviously wanted more… Wob now knew the path of true love and only had to conquer one thing before the next date - SAM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came back slightly exhausted with what seemed like a permanent blush on his cheeks. "It was hard work", he said - "But it was worth it".&lt;br /&gt;Then he went on about how he quite enjoyed his lunch with Derek and how it seemed like it wasn't even a date, but meeting with a close friend. ("awwwww" we all said back). He even managed a good-bye, casual peck on the cheek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SAM (his other true love) could not be forgotten and although he admitted to thinking she was an old lady was still in love with her. How could he make the choice? How could he honour his love with each woman knowing he still had the other waiting in the wings……&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the next date? Well, it's all up to how Sam can manage that one. We're curiously awaiting the next story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tune in next time when we hear more about McDreamy Derek, Sam I am and a bit of slap and tickle...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4011553603783976078?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4011553603783976078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4011553603783976078&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4011553603783976078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4011553603783976078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/11/wobs-adventures-with-derek.html' title='Wob&apos;s adventures with Derek'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/R0DwuVr-9CI/AAAAAAAABrs/_DxxwsshQoM/s72-c/Image018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1110399192300565766</id><published>2007-11-15T15:05:00.001+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:32.052+13:00</updated><title type='text'>A philosophical discussion</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RzuqyVr-9AI/AAAAAAAABrc/6xUfFuJPoT8/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RzuqyVr-9AI/AAAAAAAABrc/6xUfFuJPoT8/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132883982110618626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim: I just love avocado&lt;br /&gt;Tracy: Mmm. Avocado is the best.&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Tim, does your place have a barbeque?&lt;br /&gt;Tim: I have to put avocado on everything.&lt;br /&gt;Tracy: Mmm.. Avocado on everything is the best.&lt;br /&gt;Chris: giggle-giggle&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Does your barbecue have a roaster?&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: Chris, do my eyes look cross to you?&lt;br /&gt;Tim: I just use avocado instead of salad dressing.&lt;br /&gt;Tracy nods happily: Mmm..&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Does your place have a pool too?&lt;br /&gt;Rayana looks from one person to another.&lt;br /&gt;Chris: giggle-giggle.&lt;br /&gt;Tim wonders out loud while holding his precious avocado skin: I wonder if too much avocado is bad for you.&lt;br /&gt;Tracy: mmm… too much avocado.&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Is your barbecue a 6 burner?&lt;br /&gt;Rayana snaps: what's with you and barbecue?&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Tim's place is next to Adele's, where we are having a christmas lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Chris digs in deeper into his deep-fried lunch to stop from snorting his food all over Tracy. She usually does quite a good job with it herself.&lt;br /&gt;Tim: I've got a 7 burner, with roasting and no you cannot pee in my pool.&lt;br /&gt;Jared: is your place about 30 minutes away from Whangarei? Cos you know, I own that land.&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: Yes, he spit on it.&lt;br /&gt;Tracy: Chris wanted to so much to pee in your pool.&lt;br /&gt;Chris: How was that avocado?&lt;br /&gt;Jared suddenly gets a different idea: Is it all right to invite your ex to th wedding?&lt;br /&gt;Tracy: Why would you do that?&lt;br /&gt;Chris: Umm… I don't know. Never had an ex before.&lt;br /&gt;Jared: well, you know, if I was invited to her wedding.&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: they probably didn't expect that you would actually show up.&lt;br /&gt;Jared: yes, but everyone in my Uni group of friends is ex with someone in the same group, so it's impossible to avoid (put politely. I think his actual words were: Let me tell you 'bout the birds and the bees and what we do with the grease).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is as meaningful as our lunch conversation went today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1110399192300565766?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1110399192300565766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1110399192300565766&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1110399192300565766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1110399192300565766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/11/philosophical-discussion.html' title='A philosophical discussion'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RzuqyVr-9AI/AAAAAAAABrc/6xUfFuJPoT8/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7117465805595716050</id><published>2007-11-08T12:02:00.001+13:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T12:02:24.571+13:00</updated><title type='text'>We're normal</title><content type='html'>Wob came back without a scratch today. Apart from shooting green sparks out of his eyes and wearing a t-shirt that says "I'm here to kill you", he seemed well and happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sam forgave him and according to Wob she was so happy to see him that she had 3 glasses of wine and took him grocery shopping. She was very chatty and chatted up everyone at the checkout counter and he had to lead her away. Apparently that day they definitely looked like a happy couple. We now can see the development of a very strong relationship. While talking about it, he only had to display his superpowers once, this time turning Bright Red and flash his t-shirt at us twice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared is now back also from his 4 week long holiday and he's not leaving for at least 365 days, 22 hours and 43 minutes. Trace with her 3 fingered forelimbs is working from home, so we've got a quiet area with giggling Chris, Chantal (who doesn't say much) and I (the babbler that speaks for two).  No one to growl at you, or pinch you or shout "Yo-yo-yo!", so peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared has brought so many wonderful images of waxed body parts that no one of us dreamed of being waxed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes", he adds, "They do that too. First they push it to one side, then you scream, then they push it to the other side". But things like that are a perfect recipe for weight loss over lunch. You listen, you stop eating. We'll never look at Jared the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal is off for her week-long cruise, stocking up on all things sea: sea-legs, sea-bands, sea-lions. One may think she'd come back as a mermaid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris is gnawing at his arms crying and begging for people to take him with them. He's used up all of his vacation for his sick bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply cannot wait till end of December when I get out of this place free as a watermelon. Closer to the date I will be rolled down the stairs and the elevator lights will go off with "Overload" signs. It takes me three wobbles to get to the elevator in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trace's desk is just as messy as when she's in the office, so all is good, all in the right place, all as it should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're back in business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7117465805595716050?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7117465805595716050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7117465805595716050&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7117465805595716050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7117465805595716050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/11/were-normal.html' title='We&apos;re normal'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8288213943279867676</id><published>2007-11-01T15:13:00.001+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:32.278+13:00</updated><title type='text'>The result of the previous blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Ryk3KayC8DI/AAAAAAAABqw/f0uy6mYAFIQ/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Ryk3KayC8DI/AAAAAAAABqw/f0uy6mYAFIQ/s200/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127690302865469490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wob Sclatero, a runaway cactus, age of 27 (not-so-old) has died today of a heart attack. Possible causes, rat poison in his morning breakfast, followed by a few knocks on the head, which he supposedly used to think before he acted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the time of death, neighbours heard a loud laughter coming in from Sam's room with such comments as: "Hmmppphhh.. Old".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was survived by a Yellow GTO, 3 liter engine with no front spoiler. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funeral arrangements were entrusted to anyone but Rayana and Chris. A mass will be celebrated at Queen Street at 5:30 am, his usual wake up time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8288213943279867676?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8288213943279867676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8288213943279867676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8288213943279867676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8288213943279867676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/11/result-of-previous-blog.html' title='The result of the previous blog'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Ryk3KayC8DI/AAAAAAAABqw/f0uy6mYAFIQ/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3301110094506337462</id><published>2007-10-31T21:23:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:32.455+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Super powers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cactus'/><title type='text'>Wob</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Ryk3f6yC8EI/AAAAAAAABq4/VpuSFQkFeio/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Ryk3f6yC8EI/AAAAAAAABq4/VpuSFQkFeio/s200/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127690672232656962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Look! Up in the sky!" Rayloc shouts out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Is it a bird? a plane? Superman!?" I say "or Spiderman perhaps?!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I gave a hard look and squinted just to get my eyes to focus. "Holy moley! It is indeed a person in a black shirt coming towards us." But of course, he wasn't really flying, as Rayana's always prone to exaggerate. It's Rob and he's just hovering towards our desk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Rayloc, seeing another opportunity to play a practical joke, quickly whispered to me "When Rob gets here, don't forget to ask him about his girlfriend Sam okay?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was perplexed "Who's Sam? and when did he procure a girlfriend?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Rayana quickly cut me off by making a shushing gesture, apparently to warn me that he's just round the corner coming towards our pod.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Kneel you puny mortals!" Rob shouts out as he announces his presence to the pod. "Cower in fear before the mighty Sclaterro! Mwahahahaha!!!...." He says in his menacing and thunderous voice. "But you can call me Wob if you want to."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Well okay" I thought. He really wasn't the Superman I was expecting. And no, he definitely wasn't wearing his underpants on top of his jeans, but he was wearing his stock standard costume with the spider pig logo emblazoned on his shirt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"So how's things?" I say, as we haven't really caught up lately. He's been busy back in his hometown hooking up apparently, (100's of kms away). Wob answers with the usual chatter that everything's fine etc etc. I can't help but see Rayana peering behind her chair winking at me, prodding me to set Wob up for the question. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now, I honestly don't know why I participate. I know that I could get into serious trouble as Wob, the super chap that he is, could easily beat me up using his jujitsu, feng shui and karate but perhaps its the curiousity of finding out who this elusive Sam is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I give in and without knowing what's in store for me and finally say "...and how's your girlfriend Sam going?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This is where Wob displays one of his super powers and turns red as a beet root - okay, more like pinkish red, like what a chameleon in a red leafy jungle would do to hide from &lt;del&gt;office&lt;/del&gt; predators.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Except this time, no color in the world would help if you were to hide in an office pod. I tried this once with Tracy, disguising myself as a rather dull supply box, trying to evade the weekly catchups - but didn't work as she quickly sniffed me out and rattled the cardboard with her forelimbs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Wob tried explaining, to Rayana's delight, that she's not his girlfriend or anything "just somebody who makes me breakfast at six in the morning." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Mmmmkay, more clues I thought." Logically, I could now assume that they do live together &lt;del&gt;unless wob lives in a makeshift cardboard box under the motorway bridge and waits for the homeless to serve him breakfast&lt;/del&gt;, and that she's definitely not a cat, because I've never seen a cat wake up at 6am. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But there's still a lot of unanswered questions. Like, How'd they meet? how did Wob get a girl to stay with him without having to give his credit card details? (hehe)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob's beginning to sense our reluctance in believing that there's nothing going on between them and defensively says "There's nothing going on! She's an old woman."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"An old woman huh?" I said and then thinking about those ladies in walkers hobbling around the retirement home hand in hand with Wob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You shouldn't say that aloud! The people around the office might get an impression that you're into that sort of thing." Rayloc says. "Just think of all the commotion when those oldies flock around you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is where Rob realised his mistake using the word "old". "No!! Not that old! she's only 37!""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darn." That apparently ruined the momentum I had building in my mind. I thought we had an exciting story of cradle snatching going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did get to find out the entire story about Sam as Rayloc quickly switched to talking about Coke this time and how Rob doesn't seem to be drinking anything but.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wob can finish at least 2-3 litres of Coke a day (?). He doesn't even drink anything apart from that. Not even water or juice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean I don't drink water? What do you think I am? a cactus?" He replied, in which the whole conversation was drowned out by Rayloc laughing. (Yes, kinda like when you're in the airport and a jumbo jet flies by.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Rob would make a great cactus though. Soft on the inside, but prickly to the touch. In fact, he'd be a great comic book villain. "Pathetic humans! Bow before Cacktarr! The Master of Moisture! Mwahahahaha..." -- Which coincidentally sounds like a catchy tune for an aromatherapy ad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3301110094506337462?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3301110094506337462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3301110094506337462&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3301110094506337462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3301110094506337462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/wob.html' title='Wob'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Ryk3f6yC8EI/AAAAAAAABq4/VpuSFQkFeio/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7561904673987083665</id><published>2007-10-23T16:52:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:32.564+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chris'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lasagna'/><title type='text'>How to make Chris jump</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rx5QYhpitfI/AAAAAAAABn8/7Ziy_q4dIHc/s1600-h/hungry_hungry_hamster.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rx5QYhpitfI/AAAAAAAABn8/7Ziy_q4dIHc/s200/hungry_hungry_hamster.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124621808273896946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just say &lt;strong&gt;"Lasagna!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out to the cafe for our daily fix of food for lunch. I have ordered a mixture of meat and veggies on rice, while Chris went for a simple "I'll have a lasagna with a side salad, please, thank you". We barely sat down when he jumped up just as the cashier shouted: "Lasagna!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He runs slow motion through the cafe, overturning chairs, pushing people off to the side, when someone just grabs the lasagna and walks off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh!" says Chris and backs up to our table slightly pink in the face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beef and Rice!" shouts the cashier, when i slowly unload the weight off my chair and push my way through the line. I come back to my desk and sit down, as Chris jumps up yet again in what is the exact copy of the slow motion run to the cashier. This time it wasn't even "Lasagna!" she shouted, more like Chicken Chow Mein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He realizes his hungry mistake a little too late as half of the cafe turns around to look at the spectacle and backs away a wee-bit too fast and hits a table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is embarassing!" he says quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can't help it he's so skinny, he needs to eat a lot and &lt;em&gt;fast&lt;/em&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lasagna!" shouts laughing cashier. Chris slowly turns his head and looks in wonder. She points at him: "Yes, you this time!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thank the cashier and the people in the cafe and push our way out of the door, happy with the warm food in our hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7561904673987083665?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7561904673987083665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7561904673987083665&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7561904673987083665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7561904673987083665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-to-make-chris-jump.html' title='How to make Chris jump'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rx5QYhpitfI/AAAAAAAABn8/7Ziy_q4dIHc/s72-c/hungry_hungry_hamster.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7319552195137485219</id><published>2007-10-16T10:48:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:32.888+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grape'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Microwave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='egg'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ragz'/><title type='text'>Cooking 101</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RxQIDRpitdI/AAAAAAAABnU/FGI7BLxZ9Dw/s1600-h/grape.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RxQIDRpitdI/AAAAAAAABnU/FGI7BLxZ9Dw/s200/grape.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121727528597370322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no better way to describe this than to get straight to the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ragz is a single guy, who lives by himself in a one bedroom apartment, short distance from work. Living by himself is an adventure already, as his mom is still back in India and he has no access to her delicious food and most of his troubles arise in the kitchen. Lately all his lunches consist of Subway sandwiches, and we had no way of saying what he had for dinner. Until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week ago we laughed through our tears when Ragz explained to us about his egg microwaving experience. It was as usual, during our support meeting. Tracy, Chantal and I were in for an amusing story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Can anyone tell me where I can buy a microwave plate?&lt;br /&gt;- What plate?&lt;br /&gt;- You know, the plate that sits in a microwave and spins.&lt;br /&gt;- What happened to your plate?&lt;br /&gt;- I microwaved an egg on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We looked at each other, unsure if this is where we should laugh, or perhaps an even funnier explanation would follow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- How da… Why da… What da..? - was all we could manage in response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I was hungry. So I put an egg in a bowl of water (ohhh, so there was a bowl of water) and instead of cooking it burst all over the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is already hard to imagine why would anyone with a proper stove would use a microwave at home to boil an egg. But after careful consideration and trying-to-be-understanding-while-suppressing-our-laughs looks we got more cooking lessons. Here they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brown eggs cook longer than white eggs, Ragz confirmed, as he had boiled the eggs before in two different pots at home to see which one would boil faster. While the brown egg took 5 minutes, the white one took 2 minutes, so why not stick the white one in a microwave next time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forget the amount of water or the fact that the egg wasn't fully submerged in water, how did the bursting egg break the plate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Well, when I opened the microwave, the plate just jumped out on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder, it was probably very scared after an eggsplosion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Can you not tape or glue it together?, said considerate Tracy, knowing that any other plate he buys would probably die of a heart attack within a short period any way.&lt;br /&gt;- It broke, like, in a hundred little pieces!!! - sqeuaked back Ragz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would too, if I knew there was a possibility of me going back into that microwave with Ragz on the other side of the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You could make it a project? Like mosaics...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the helpful bunch we are we started offering subtle advice on how to clean a microwave. Even though he has spent a night scrubbing the egg of the ceiling (don't ask how that got there, no answer you get would be satisfactory as an explanation), the stench and the glued-up particles of yolk have decided to take a permanent residence in the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why don't you put a grape in? - I offered.&lt;br /&gt;- Why would I put a grape in? &lt;br /&gt;- Well, it's got this unusual quality of being acidic and when you microwave a grape, it takes all the smell out of the microwave, not talking about the yellow bits. It's a well known chemical process. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy and Chantal give me the are-you-in-the-right-mind look and I just stare back at them. My stare wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Oh yeah, then it would be sparkling clean! - they shout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy gives a bit more explanation on how to microwave a grape and for how long. Better yet, put two of each colour in and do not under any circumstances poke any holes in it, as it already has a hole at the bottom of the grape (or the top) where it is attached. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ragz is all ears, thankful for the well-meaning advice. Until this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You!!! You!!!! And YOU!!!! He points at us screaming during the meeting in the lunch room this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All angels turn to look at him while discussing the latest data loads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A GRAPE IN A MICROWAVE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole lunch room jumped up while we bent over kicking and crying and laughing, barely hearing what he's got to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I CAN'T BELIEVE I LISTENED TO YOU. NOT ONLY DID THE MICROWAVE TURN BLACK, I HAD TO FREEZE TO DEATH BECAUSE THE STENCH WAS OVERWHELMING AND I HAD TO OPEN THE WINDOWS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why would you microwave a grape?&lt;br /&gt;- Because you told me it would help clean the microwave and get rid of the smell! I put it in and left thinking ahh-the pleasures of clean oven and came running back when the smell of the grape got stronger than the smell of a burst egg. It was BLACK and stuck to the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;- Well, at least THAT didn't burst!&lt;br /&gt;- Didn't burst? Didn't BURST?! - he squealed. It had became black and stuck to the microwave!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We forgot he had no plate… Well at least the smell of the egg was gone, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was another sleepless night for Ragz and many more to come, as he's expecting a sales agent to come see the apartment this Saturday and has to scrub and clean to get rid of both smells, an egg on the ceiling and a grape in the oven. That's all right he's got about 72 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps someone has a tip for him on how to clean up? Perhaps a cocktail of vinegar and baking soda in a large jar? Shaken, not stirred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RxQIGRpiteI/AAAAAAAABnc/dghnyM9We2Y/s1600-h/grape02.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RxQIGRpiteI/AAAAAAAABnc/dghnyM9We2Y/s200/grape02.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121727580136977890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Some Links to what he should have googled before he tried it at home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.barnesos.net/homepage/lpl/grapeplasma/"&gt;Grape Plasma&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCNNqgKqnaQ"&gt;You tube&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7319552195137485219?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7319552195137485219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7319552195137485219&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7319552195137485219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7319552195137485219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/cooking-101.html' title='Cooking 101'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RxQIDRpitdI/AAAAAAAABnU/FGI7BLxZ9Dw/s72-c/grape.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4356215377418501053</id><published>2007-10-11T10:51:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:33.244+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Arranged Marriages</title><content type='html'>Apart from proposing various hairstyles for Ragz this morning just as any other morning, we somehow got to the story of Ragz' arranged marriage. He has 3 women waiting for his "I do". But it's not all harem fun, is it Ragz? This is how it is supposed to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Ragz arrives in a house full of her family, moms, dads, aunties and uncles, grandmas and grandpas, sisters, brothers and all the various cousins. He is seated across from his bride-to-be in hopes that something may spark in her eyes and fly across a table full of baked goods into his eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rw1MKBpitaI/AAAAAAAABnE/wZ5f5Frqe2s/s1600-h/big%2520eyes4s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rw1MKBpitaI/AAAAAAAABnE/wZ5f5Frqe2s/s200/big%2520eyes4s.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119832086515201442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Talk about pressure, when you've got 100 pairs of eyes staring in your mouth, watching your every move, breathing your every breath. This is the moment, now is the time, you either like her or you don't and there's no turning back, you have to start a conversation and make your mind up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ragz: Umm.. Good day to you.&lt;br /&gt;Bride-to-be: Hi&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in the room holding their breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ragz: How are you?&lt;br /&gt;Bride-to-be: Very well, thank you!&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in the room: Awwwww…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ragz: The weather is nice today, you can cook an egg or two on the bonnet of the car.&lt;br /&gt;Bride-to-be: As long as it's not overcooked.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in the room claps their hands in excitement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ragz: Will you marry me?&lt;br /&gt;Bride-to-be: Oi…&lt;br /&gt;As everyone in the room jumps up and pushes bride-to-be aside to hug and kiss and otherwise smother Ragz with their food offerings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can barely imagine the pressure he must go through to pick one of those 3, as he needs to go through this three times and take the girl out on a date with her whole family in tow. Maybe this could be another version of My Big Fat Indian Wedding movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rw1KqBpitZI/AAAAAAAABm8/KxWtoMUSUOg/s1600-h/DSC_7124a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rw1KqBpitZI/AAAAAAAABm8/KxWtoMUSUOg/s200/DSC_7124a.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119830437247759762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But I'm sure after his adventures in NZ, especially the rafting trip (see UNTOUCHED photo: What nice legs you have) where he showed his exceptional skills of rafting on his head while masterfully waving hello with his feet, he will do just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad she won't get to wear a white dress, says Ragz, as she has to wear as much glitter as possible.. He said he remembers the time when he wore a tight black dress and he loved it and is sorry his bride-to-be is to miss out on this happy feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where you nod understandingly…&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4356215377418501053?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4356215377418501053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4356215377418501053&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4356215377418501053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4356215377418501053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/arranged-marriages.html' title='Arranged Marriages'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rw1MKBpitaI/AAAAAAAABnE/wZ5f5Frqe2s/s72-c/big%2520eyes4s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8529579000016548129</id><published>2007-10-10T16:51:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T16:52:16.061+13:00</updated><title type='text'>May I be polite?</title><content type='html'>The support meetings every morning would not end before Ragz breaks down in tears over his haircut. We are not exactly forcing him to change it, more of a gentle nudge in the ribs every 15 minutes. He gave us an idea when he tried Bungy jumping, sky diving, water rafting and microwaving eggs. Seeing how his life is full of risk and his head of hair it would be shame if it didn't have a few yellow spikes in it. Ok, so his ribs have now got a permanent dent where T-rex pokes him with her pen while asking for status on data warehouse issues and where I poke him with her pen if he doesn't explain why he hadn't yet microwaved grapes. But if he doesn't have much hair left (his words) might as well put them to good yellow use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal this morning amused us by describing curious incidents with her son. He has become very polite and apparently it's not something the parents have taught him. "May I eat my dinner?", "May I turn on the TV". This alone is raising a question as to what he generally eats or where he got this sudden urge to be polite, cos the parents are so annoyed that sooner or later they will just say No to test the response. But at least Momo says good morning to himself every morning (see Adventures of Momo below). We have convinced Chantal that asking is usually a normal thing and the child is not in need of discipline… yet. It could be worse, he can actually add "please" at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering that one of her neighbours has killed his wife and the other dropped dead after a rugby game on his driveway… but that's a whole other blog for the whole other hood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8529579000016548129?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8529579000016548129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8529579000016548129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8529579000016548129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8529579000016548129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/may-i-be-polite.html' title='May I be polite?'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4475346645442538520</id><published>2007-10-10T16:24:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T16:28:09.951+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blood.'/><title type='text'>Accidents</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now that Jared's out, it's usually just Me, Rayloc, and Tracy who go for lunch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;With Jared not around to remind us, we're usually stuck taking our mid day break at a bad hour. Unlike a camel stuck in the desert, Jared does not have the means to sustain himself after noon as his hump is not palatable enough for him, or for human consumption. Believe me when I say that Rayana got a finger sprain just by poking at it too many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As well as late, lunch has lately been cut short, with Tracy always the first one running back to her desk. I'm sure she just can't stand us, or that she just wants to login to Facebook and check her friends out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with the above shortcomings, it doesn't deter them from telling crazy stories. The good boy that I am, I always listen with interest with what these two crazies have got to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy has been sporting a bandage lately after trying to take out the stone from an avocado. Which is her story by the way, I know how those pits are "mean slippery buggers", but I think what happened was more more sinister than that. Tracy makes up a lot of stories, just like Rayana makes up stories about her owning a house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like how Tracy wants her food seasoned with human blood just to make them tasty. I didn't believe her, because for one, she doesn't have the bite marks on her neck. and two, I didn't hear her say "I vant yor vludd!!!" when she was chasing Ragz this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Russian roulette with a knife? Most probably, as she was the one chosen to organise the activities for the team Xmas party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after describing her torrid affair with the kitchen knife. Rayana decided not to be outdone and told us all about her experience with a paper guillotine on her previous role. She showed us her forefinger with a very distinct scar, like someone's just chopped part of it off at some time. Ewwww. Even the fingerprints aren't aligned anymore. I wasn't surprised when she told us that she was talking to someone when she 'accidentally' chopped the tip of her finger off. Or when she told us that she didn't feel any pain at all but did faint after the blood was spurting from her finger afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to stop here as I really can't concentrate when somebody's hovering behing you, munching noisily on an apple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On tomorrow's edition : How Tracy bit off Rayana's head after sending too many 'fake' messages in Core.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4475346645442538520?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4475346645442538520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4475346645442538520&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4475346645442538520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4475346645442538520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/accidents.html' title='Accidents'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-540678296299362074</id><published>2007-10-03T16:19:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:33.453+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Hug me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RwWr2BpitWI/AAAAAAAABlY/qLc1drQVywY/s1600-h/t-rex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RwWr2BpitWI/AAAAAAAABlY/qLc1drQVywY/s200/t-rex.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117685496220398946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's lunch was on the 4th floor, the finance geeks, accountants, portugese people, hugging people and us: Tracy, Chris, Jared and I. While we were discussing the education levels of some of the people present and the ignorance of the rest there were at least 4 hugs given in the kitchen. What's the deal with that? Why isn't it a rule on level 3?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared kindly recommended his view on the issue: "A minimum of two hugs per day must be given in BI with each hug given to a different person. If the KPIs for hugging are not met, this must go on the performance review of the individual with severe penalties. Contractors must do free time for every hug missed or misgiven and the pain caused by not adhering to the rules."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this might have been the smartest thing he had ever said, but that's beside the point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy aka T-Rex, being the communications specialist has volunteered to communicate this new policy to the rest of the team. And some of us simply can't wait for it to be a new policy, so that people would stop telling him off for constantly walking into them, right Christ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, the person just cannot walk straight. Period. The gravitational rules can be proven on him. If you are the closest walking person, he will eventually end up on your feet, if you are lucky and if you are not, well, let's just hope there's a soft spot on the ground next to you. Or worse yet, you might end up carrying him till another person is in his gravitational field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any way.. Jared started talking about his trip (my eyes don't roll any further since I met him) again. And this time it revolved around food. He still doesn't know the country I'm from and thinks it's Abercrombie and Fitch and for some other reason only known to Jared, he thinks it's in Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared: "Can you eat food from stalls in Egypt? Because we cannot eat food from stalls in Egypt. Our doctor said we shouldn't eat food from stalls in Egypt." &lt;br /&gt;Tracy stopped chewing on her freshly made sandwiches with chicken and tomato and asks: "Why not?"&lt;br /&gt;Jared: "Well, we are only there for 10 days and I Don't really want to spend it in the toilet." (Actually, he used a completely different word here, but considering this is a family-friendly place we will beep those out).&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: "What is the joy of travelling places if you cannot enjoy the local food and only eat at the hotel restaurants?"&lt;br /&gt;Jared: "Well, what else can we do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can just see those photos. Jared in Egypt - running to the toilet. Jared in Egypt - walking out of the toilet. Jared in Egypt - I don’t even wanna go there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T-rex: "You should be used to food poisoning by now with Kate's cooking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to make a point here that T-Rex said this, not me.. Just keep that in mind when you get to the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared also mentioned he wanted to get exit row seats in the airplane. Knowing Jared I just couldn't help myself: "Why would YOU need extra leg room?" and all hell broke loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got called names by T-Rex, some pretty, some not-so-much, but the fact remains - he's not the tallest of creatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when we found out how many languages she could speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy in English: I speak many languages&lt;br /&gt;Tracy in Maori: Pakanini (Jared translated this, apparently it's a mix between a stomach and panini)&lt;br /&gt;Tracy in French: Pale voo fla-fla&lt;br /&gt;Tracy in Spanish: Ola and something else that sounded more like the previous maori expression&lt;br /&gt;Tracy in Italian: Ciao&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then they call me mean. It took all my energy to even try and suppress the endless flow of comments that just kept forcing themselves out of my mouth. I promised to be nice till 4:00pm, and it's now 4:18 pm. So out it goes.&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness for blogs!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-540678296299362074?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/540678296299362074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=540678296299362074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/540678296299362074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/540678296299362074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/10/hug-me.html' title='Hug me'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RwWr2BpitWI/AAAAAAAABlY/qLc1drQVywY/s72-c/t-rex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5355740659616928559</id><published>2007-09-26T14:26:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:33.752+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elephant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skinny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RvnF0BpitVI/AAAAAAAABk4/WCu4y7jTfiI/s1600-h/chris.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RvnF0BpitVI/AAAAAAAABk4/WCu4y7jTfiI/s200/chris.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114336349442454866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You're so skinny, you need to run under the shower to get wet, - says Jared to Chris while imitating a stick figure with long hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris giggles his usual way and says: Na-hah! How did you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming from a helium baloon with legs and a pear shaped me, it's not really that offensive to Chris, but still, we're all extremely jealous when it comes to Chris stuffing his mouth with pies and deep-fried desserts and not gaining an ounce, even on his earlobes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our conversations lately &lt;em&gt;(for the last 2 months)&lt;/em&gt; mostly evolve around Jared's upcoming vacation. &lt;br /&gt;- Good morning Jared!&lt;br /&gt;- I have 11 days, 13 hours, 44 minutes, 8 seconds left till my vacation.&lt;br /&gt;- What's for lunch?&lt;br /&gt;- I'm up to single digits now: 9 days, 7 hours, 54 minutes, 27 seconds. Oh no, wait.. 23 seconds left till my vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a point when we simply stopped growling at the countdown and gave in.&lt;br /&gt;- How long till your vacation now Jared? &lt;em&gt;(*please let it be 1 day, please…)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He consults his blackberry. &lt;br /&gt;- 9 days, 5 hours, 21 minutes, 44 seconds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To have a bit more diversity to our conversation Tracy asked Jared if he plans to get married while on his vacation, which is now 8 days, 6 hours, 11 minutes, 58 seconds away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Nah! Hroom-hroom, yum-yum. No time. We are going on tours which will take us from Rome to Paris to Dubrovnik to Egypt to ahem (&lt;em&gt;here he forgot the names of the other places he's visiting)&lt;/em&gt; and there'll barely be time to take photos and we'll have to take them on the fly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(* I try to imagine Jared in slow motion trying to take a picture while running sideways: "Noooo-ooo")&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Buuuhhh-ng! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RvnETRpitUI/AAAAAAAABkw/GXILqfgvEeQ/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RvnETRpitUI/AAAAAAAABkw/GXILqfgvEeQ/s200/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114334687290111298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this space deserves a pause in the blog, as this was the sound Tracy made trying to imitate the "wrong answer" beep. It sounded more like a cry of a hurt elephant that got bitten by a lion than anything else, but she was proud of it until we burst out laughing spitting our chewed food everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Trace! This is the worst Bing sound ever! &lt;br /&gt;- In fact I think this is the worst Buuuhhh-ng sound I ever heard, Tracy admitted through her elephant tears wiping the lion of her back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is now officially the worst Bing-er in this company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, we agreed we will simply have to fill in silences when Jared's gone with things like politics, environment, recipes and other unavoidable gossip. And ask Tracy to never ever try to replicate any non-human sounds in public.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5355740659616928559?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5355740659616928559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5355740659616928559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5355740659616928559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5355740659616928559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/09/vacation.html' title='Vacation'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RvnF0BpitVI/AAAAAAAABk4/WCu4y7jTfiI/s72-c/chris.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5211108871167550223</id><published>2007-08-27T16:41:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T16:43:46.465+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zzz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beach'/><title type='text'>Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Everybody in my pod, a cubicle of four, literally went off for a holiday. Jane's somewhere in Bali lounging - reading a book, soaking up the sun, Rayana's swimming about in Niue - probably hanging out with a different set of pods (a pod of dolphins for those of you who are thinking of something else), and Michelle - God knows where Michelle went for her break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as certain as taxes, the inevitable time for lunch loomed nearby like a dark little cloud. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Jared's out to get some shots for his upcoming holiday, so I sent Trace an email asking if she wants anything from the bakery round the block. To my surprise, she went for the personal touch, and came by inquiring if they sold any sort of fruits to go with her cornflakes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what? I don't think I've seen any fruits down there - not that I take notice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hesitates (probably thinking of getting a nice pie), but instead says "Well okay. I don't think I want anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She adds. "Let me know when you're back and I could join you in the lunch room. Not that you have to, but we certainly can eat at our desks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off I went, mulling over what she said before I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about it (deeply), but my concern for her well being led me to decline her gracious offer (at the risk of further destabilising our fragile, ehermm, friendship). She doesn't realise it now, but I'm sure she'll thank me later on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a hypothetical. If I did agree to  have lunch alone with Tracy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Chris! What have you got?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thai Green Curry and Chix." Chris says munching on his lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(After 3 minutes...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what did you do during the weekend?" Tracy asks again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is where Chris just bores Tracy with the mechanics of pulling one grass stalk at a time.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(8 minutes later...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Chris blinks back and just stares at Tracy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Tracy blinks back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Chris re-crosses his legs and blinks again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(a minutes later...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Tracy gives up, and just nods off on her fruit salad bowl. "Zzzzzz...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Chris scratches his head and was amazed that bland conversations still renders people unconscious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5211108871167550223?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5211108871167550223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5211108871167550223&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5211108871167550223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5211108871167550223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/gone.html' title='Gone'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6716080722683072128</id><published>2007-08-24T19:25:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T20:11:23.639+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nuts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Monkeys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grains'/><title type='text'>Grains</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;ed : It's our 101st post! and dedicated to Jane. This was supposed to be a continuation from the Rego post. (Aug 16) but didn't have enough time to do it before Ms. J left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Part 2 :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;With the bad weather behind us and my lunch in tow, I was looking forward to gorge myself with the curries we bought down the mall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;As the aroma of Vindaloo and Buttered Chicken wafted through the break room, Rayana, Jane and Michelle came by and decided to join us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Which led us to an interesting discussion about food. I think it started out with what Jane brought in for lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Grain Salad!" She enthusiastically says (as what Jane does). "Made of short grain rice, quinoa, slices of lime and some veggies."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Quino-huwwat?" I say as I peered curiously at her lunch, sitting proudly in a little plastic container.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Quinoa" Jane says "The oldest edible grain ever recorded. A staple diet by the Incas (or was it Mayans or Martians?) long before the Spanish conquistadors &lt;del&gt; came looking for the fountain of youth?&lt;/del&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;(As a side note, I actually went on wikipedia afterwards to look it up. Had an interesting read about this grain. link &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quinoa"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Yeah, that's right, I thought she was making it up like how she makes up stuff about the urgency of projects. But... it was true, it does exist.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"So is it like couscous?" I ask without even knowing what that meant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"That's totally different" Rayana says. And goes off describing what they're made off, what's it like, how you cook them, blah, blah, blah etc etc. The look on Jared's face was just pure amazement, you see, he's a potatoes man (or kumara boy depending on the mood - I think it's kumara for candle light dinners). It's only just recently that he found that rice is actually NOT a dessert.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;(Pause. Another distraction as I just saw an odd shaped nut sitting on my desk as I was writing this. Hazelnut, I think upon closer inspection. Where in the world did that come from?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Then Rayana says something about not worth the effort cooking Risotto. I haven't cooked risotto yet, but the way she described it sounded like it's easier to hunt buffalos than cooking this 'exotique' dish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"What's Risotto?" Jared asks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Jane's absolutely shocked that there weren't that many people in the table who even knew what these dishes are. The look on her face was priceless. It's as if we were all like neanderthals gathered round the table, wet and dripping after recently thawing out from the ice age.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"I can't believe you guys are not adventurous enough!" Jane says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Jared was also amazed that there were other veggies out there - so different from his staple meat and potatoes diet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Risotto's short grain rice, cooked slowly in stock/water with veggies or meat" Jane says. She also mentioned something about why you're not supposed to pour cold water during as it halts the cooking process.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"I like mashed potatoes best!" Jared says from out of the blue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Which made me wonder why we quickly jumped from that topic to "Tabouleh" (wiki link &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tabbouleh"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Taboulehuwat?" I ask again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"I'm sure you've eaten that stuff with kebabs before." Rayana explained "You just didn't know it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Was that the green thing they stuff in there?" I ignorantly say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Jane definitely knows what that is as she quickly rattled off what it's made of. I didn't even have the courage to ask what vulgar wheat is - sounds like porno wheat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Anyway, we moved on to how we eat or cook eggplants. (Here's a trivia for you : Jared has never ever knowingly eaten an eggplant before!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Stuffed!" Michelle says&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Mashed eggplants" Rayana says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Poor Jane was reeling from the trauma. She must've been thinking "How could these savages mash an eggplant like that?!?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This is where I got lost as everybody was pretty excited when Michelle asked what their fave vegetable is. It's like the evolutionary clock was turned back a tick. You could see monkeys jumping up excitedly and screaming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Oooghhhhh ei ei ei ah ah ah ah eggplants! eggplants! hoo hoo hoo." said one hairy Canadian monkey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Urk urk urk Okra okra okra shriek shrieeeek!" Said one of the orangutans as he smelled both his armpits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Rrrrrrrrrr ooh aah ooh ahh ooh ahh Potatoes Potatoes!!!" Said one big ape-like gorilla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Hoo hoo hoo mushrooms! mushrooms! giggle giggle snort snort!!" (Guess who this monkey is.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;del&gt;Then Jared suddenly freaks out and jumps up and down screaming and turning the big table over. Like a big gorilla, he utters a low guttural sound. "Hroook hroook hroook!!!" and takes a sniff at our terrified guest. He says loudly "Me TARZAN!!!... you Jane!" He then makes a "Thump thump thump" as he beat his hairy chest like there's no tomorrow.&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Jane can no longer take the madness and runs away screaming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And that's pretty much how our lunch ended (and how monkeys came to be in BI.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6716080722683072128?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6716080722683072128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6716080722683072128&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6716080722683072128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6716080722683072128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/grains.html' title='Grains'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1773154862064286649</id><published>2007-08-23T12:08:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T12:10:41.709+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jane'/><title type='text'>Signs that Jane's no longer in the office</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;15. Nobody to hold the Aussie flag or speak with an Aussie accent or fight for New Zealand Pavlova &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;14. Nobody to wind up whenever an Australian team loses (which is always) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;13. Be good to Australians month is no more &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;12. One less person wearing boots in the office or twirling her hair &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;11. BI team is no longer a library of rare books&lt;br /&gt;10. Nobody knows about upcoming art exhibitions, galleries or film festivals&lt;br /&gt;9. Bagels from the cafe downstairs are getting stale&lt;br /&gt;8. No birdfood lunches and a lot less breadmaker stories&lt;br /&gt;7. Nobody knows what couscous or quinoa is anymore&lt;br /&gt;6. No more free marketing for the organic foodstore&lt;br /&gt;5. Chris can safely say the word "even" and doesn’t have to add "just kidding Jane" at the end of every sentence&lt;br /&gt;4. Nobody walking around with a printout of a massive spreadsheet&lt;br /&gt;3. The tallest cup in the office now belongs to Chantal&lt;br /&gt;2. Nobody has a cute snort after they giggle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;AND (DRUMROLL…) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. We all have upsidedown smiles on our face&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1773154862064286649?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1773154862064286649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1773154862064286649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1773154862064286649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1773154862064286649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/signs-that-janes-no-longer-in-office.html' title='Signs that Jane&apos;s no longer in the office'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4510019004858010174</id><published>2007-08-21T16:03:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T16:04:33.834+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 10'/><title type='text'>Top 10 Signs that Tracy's back</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;10. Kath and Kim impersonations&lt;br /&gt;9. Boots are suddenly back in fashion.&lt;br /&gt;8. Members of the Info Delivery team are having anxiety attacks&lt;br /&gt;7. Jared is actually doing work&lt;br /&gt;6. Videos of baby Lucas bouncing on the couch goes circulating round the office&lt;br /&gt;5. Lately, David M's actually the one getting wound up.&lt;br /&gt;4. Chris' nails are worn off from biting&lt;br /&gt;3. Grand prix office chair racing&lt;br /&gt;2. The word "NOW!!!" appears on all work requests &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Somebody shouting out "Where's my damn team?!?!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4510019004858010174?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4510019004858010174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4510019004858010174&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4510019004858010174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4510019004858010174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/top-10-signs-that-tracys-back.html' title='Top 10 Signs that Tracy&apos;s back'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2866616903348428908</id><published>2007-08-16T20:12:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T11:17:48.335+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Registration'/><title type='text'>Rego</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"So what are you doing for lunch today?" I ask Jared. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"No plans as I didn't bring mine." He says "You?" asking back but already expecting what I'm going to say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"No plans." I say as I shrugged. Like I'd give out any other answer. I'm notorious for not bringing in lunch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"I do need to go to the post shop, to renew my motor vehicle registration." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Hey what do you know, I need to do the same thing as well." I say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Cool" Jared says. "It's a date then... but we can't hold hands." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"I was expecting more than that on the first date." I say flippantly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The weather looked real bad from inside the office. Cold, and sputtering, Rayana mentioned that she's not coming along. She mumbled something about not feeling well and would rather get something from the ground floor cafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2 follows...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2866616903348428908?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2866616903348428908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2866616903348428908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2866616903348428908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2866616903348428908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/rego.html' title='Rego'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-702661599771100459</id><published>2007-08-15T16:20:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:33.996+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Momo'/><title type='text'>Adventures of Momo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsJ_J-vKYhI/AAAAAAAAA4o/RzM_doLW7OQ/s1600-h/Cockateil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsJ_J-vKYhI/AAAAAAAAA4o/RzM_doLW7OQ/s200/Cockateil.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098777537573184018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal bought her son a bird, a Cockatiel. A really cute one with orange cheeks and a punk hairdo. A true transvestite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal: We woke up the next day and I heard my family say Good morning. I was quite surprised, as no one ever says good morning in my household. I came down only to see them saying good morning to a bird, not even to each other.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not only fine feathers that make fine birds. Oh and I think she's planning to clip those fine feathers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chantal: The bird, Momo, we called it bit my son this morning.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we asked how that happened, she mentioned her son stuck a hand in that 1.5 metre cage and tried to pet the bird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chantal: I think I need to clip it's nails, they are way too long and curly and sharp.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped chewing on the dumplings and heard someone at the table cough. But it was only Jared laughing with a mouthful on chicken curry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jared: But the bird will just go "flop" from its perch!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which Chantal just nodded and commented that otherwise they are just too sharp, while we all tried to imagine the poor creature trying to walk on the floor of the cage as if wearing fins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adele was kind enough to recommend a sand paper glued to the perch, so that we wouldn't report Chantal to the SPCA for bird nail abuse.&lt;br /&gt;I think we're going to hear a lot about that bird in the future. We shall call those stories Adventures of flightless Momo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-702661599771100459?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/702661599771100459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=702661599771100459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/702661599771100459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/702661599771100459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/adventures-of-momo.html' title='Adventures of Momo'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsJ_J-vKYhI/AAAAAAAAA4o/RzM_doLW7OQ/s72-c/Cockateil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6324551199936345591</id><published>2007-08-07T15:52:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:34.225+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Microwave Experience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOHJOvKYmI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/EGEXa_by-rE/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOHJOvKYmI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/EGEXa_by-rE/s200/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099067795758015074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's play a game, association. I say a word and you come up with the first thing that comes to your mind. &lt;br /&gt;Summer --&gt; Sun, beach, whatever&lt;br /&gt;Sweet --&gt; Candy, cake…&lt;br /&gt;Station wagon - babies, babies, babies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared has got himself a station wagon, albeit as he says a sporty one. &lt;br /&gt;Rayana: are you expecting?&lt;br /&gt;Jared: No, it's a small one&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: still, it's a station wagon and it says: baby on board&lt;br /&gt;Jared: No, it's actually smaller than Kate's car&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: still says babies&lt;br /&gt;Jared: it's very sporty though, and it's got tinted windows&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: … with babies&lt;br /&gt;Jared: and alloy wheels&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: babies, babies…&lt;br /&gt;Jared acts really annoyed, and keeps smiling through his teeth. Silence… &lt;br /&gt;After a minute or so: We couldn't actually fit this-and-that into a car and we had to put it into Kate's car.&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: small babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that the last word has to be on me. It's just when you get a station wagon, and you are the right age and in a relationship, be prepared to be stereotyped.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, he drives like he's got a permanent baby in the car - slooooowwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsJ_-uvKYiI/AAAAAAAAA4w/-x1YFPnux38/s1600-h/10-microwave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsJ_-uvKYiI/AAAAAAAAA4w/-x1YFPnux38/s200/10-microwave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098778443811283490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any who, considering he couldn't keep talking about his car anymore or any other car for that matter, we moved on to microwaves. &lt;br /&gt;Chris has been trying to understand why 2 containers of food warm up slower than one. &lt;br /&gt;Chris, but the mass is much larger, hence it takes longer to heat up in a microwave, I exclaim. Jared happily nods while munching on his toasted sandwich: yes, more food, more time. But Chris went into a whole philosophical discussion about microwave particles getting excited about the quantity of food and rubbing against each other and the food and that's how it gets Hot, hot, hot!&lt;br /&gt;That's when some of us have lost their appetite. I mean just thinking about what your spaghetti was up to in a microwave, all shy, covered with spinach and white wine, getting drunk with all those over-excited particles. Hmm, I don't know if I want to eat that anymore. So Jared and I just kept looking at each other while listening to Chris' meaning of microwave life.&lt;br /&gt;Another lesson for you kids - don't heat and eat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6324551199936345591?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6324551199936345591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6324551199936345591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6324551199936345591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6324551199936345591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/microwave-experience.html' title='Microwave Experience'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOHJOvKYmI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/EGEXa_by-rE/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1576149634777364653</id><published>2007-08-01T13:58:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:34.373+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Recycling tip of the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsKAN-vKYjI/AAAAAAAAA44/M05c2d4_6RQ/s1600-h/Recycling_Saves_Energy_Logo.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsKAN-vKYjI/AAAAAAAAA44/M05c2d4_6RQ/s200/Recycling_Saves_Energy_Logo.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098778705804288562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's lunch revolved around names: short and long, old and new, funny and pathetic. No offence to anyone named Doris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our very own Christian Dale has argued that the middle name could be used as a first name, if the owner so chooses. But in some instances and cultures that is not really possible. Just like that email that Rick sent about some last names that you just don't hyphenate, like Wang-Holder. Or Michelle's new last name when she gets married. Or mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared as usual had a nice little story to go with Butter Chicken lunch. He usually gets them out of his big pocket with his Fick Ammm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared: I once dated a girl named Jane. After a little while i decided to get her a gold bracelet, with her name engraved on it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone: Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared after a polite second: Too bad we broke up shortly after that and she gave it back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone: Awww!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared raises his hand: But not to despair. I started dating Janet after that, so all i had to do is add a letter T to the end of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this, kids, is another tip on recycling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1576149634777364653?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1576149634777364653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1576149634777364653&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1576149634777364653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1576149634777364653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/08/recycling-tip-of-day.html' title='Recycling tip of the day'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsKAN-vKYjI/AAAAAAAAA44/M05c2d4_6RQ/s72-c/Recycling_Saves_Energy_Logo.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3057242020300414102</id><published>2007-07-30T17:02:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:34.578+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gouge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bread'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Paddles'/><title type='text'>Breadmaker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsKA0uvKYkI/AAAAAAAAA5A/4uk4XcxTcFg/s1600-h/thief.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsKA0uvKYkI/AAAAAAAAA5A/4uk4XcxTcFg/s200/thief.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098779371524219458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Jane's been having trouble with her breadmaker lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her baking's lately come aground, ending up with stunted loaves instead of the fluffy, wheaty, and nutty loaves she's usually familiar with. "Pudgy" as she described it in her own words. (Same word I'd use if I was to describe Jared out to somebody.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But her recipe's perfect! Passed on from generation to generation, from grandmother to daughter to grand- daughter. She's absolutely miffed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What could make this happen? It's supposed to be foolproof." she though. But in the spirit she's in, she decides to give it another go. She puts on her bakers hat and looks intently at the instructions on the ready mix packet. She reads it slowly this time to ensure that she's followed it to the letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It usually takes a couple of hours for a baking cycle to complete, so she calls it a day and leaves it for the night, deeply hoping to to be greeted by the aroma of a freshly baked loaf in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her dreams of flying croissants and paninis were rudely interrupted as she wakes up to an odd sound coming from the kitchen. Alarmed that it might be an unwanted guest, she quickly puts her robe on &lt;del&gt; at the same time grabbing the baseball bat she keeps under her bed &lt;/del&gt; and investigates the ruckus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sneaks into the kitchen and was aghast! No, the sound wasn't coming from a homeless man rummaging through her fridge, but rather, her breadmaker. Like some weird Russian torture device, the bread paddles seem to be gouging her poor dough and beating them down mercilessly out of schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No wonder they were coming up undersized." she sighed as she dragged herself to bed, knowing too well that her lunch tomorrow will be quite short of her expectations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3057242020300414102?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3057242020300414102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3057242020300414102&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3057242020300414102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3057242020300414102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/breadmaker.html' title='Breadmaker'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsKA0uvKYkI/AAAAAAAAA5A/4uk4XcxTcFg/s72-c/thief.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1398730643171086639</id><published>2007-07-30T16:42:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T17:02:37.346+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pram'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geisha'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bubbly'/><title type='text'>Memoirs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Just to add what Rayloc missed. Again, a disclaimer, the dialogue may or may not happened. I was suffering from severe mental lapses as my dried out veins were crying for a Coke shot...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember hearing about Jane getting to see Madeleine's new baby during the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Was he cute?" Michelle asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I caught myself before I laughed. It's one of those questions where there's only one appropriate answer… e.g. "do these jeans make me look fat?")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes he was" Jane said without missing a beat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Was he huge?" Rayana mentions "The baby was a couple of weeks overdue, so he must have been big right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just the the right size." Jane says "Not too big, not too small, but juuuust right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Which coincidentally what Papa bear and Momma bear said when they saw Baby Bear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And he's got such long fingers." she added.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh he's going to be a pianist!" Rayana/Michelle exclaims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(either that or a pickpocket, I imagine. j/k)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which led us to the topic where Rayana says that he can't imagine Jared pushing a pram. Which further compounded our supposition as Jared started doing his austrian-german-governator impression. "Look at mine Ammms!" as he imaginatively pumps the pram up and down. Yep, do us a favour and don't have kids Jared. Hee hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean it's so hard to imagine anybody having kids. Look at Madeleine for instance." Rayana says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Michelle and I gave each other a look and directed our eyeballs to the pot that was calling the kettle black.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which unfortunately she saw, as she flicks me on the forehead which made me stop my eye rolling for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was books, particularly Memoirs of a Geisha, and its movie counterpart. Rayloc earlier mentioned that it's sometimes hard for books to capture powerful moments that only the big screen can. Like how the movie was able to portray a man falling off a bike after the geisha giving him a quick glance. Now, I haven't read the book yet so I have no idea how she did it, but I must say that's some pretty powerful stuff. Telekinesis? Or a sharp stick? I can only surmise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or how the film was able to capture how a geisha walks - real small steps, quick and butterfly like. Although I agree, I think it all depends on how the author writes it, my imagination usually works out for me if I get some hints from the author - as I do visualize well. If the author says, "The geisha quickly walked like a drunken sailor with a near bursting bladder." then I'd imagine small quick steps and butterfly like… although compounded with a strut and perspiration as he looks for the nearest latrine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it was in the middle of this heated conversation that I get the chance to see Rayana's bubbly nature… literally. She thought it was an excited moth she was brushing off but it was more of her exuberance trying to escape and float away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the conversations jumped from one topic to another (read Rayloc's posting for more details) which finally ended up on how it was difficult to find a good agency for recrtuitment lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1398730643171086639?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1398730643171086639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1398730643171086639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1398730643171086639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1398730643171086639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/memoirs.html' title='Memoirs'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8129885711930180339</id><published>2007-07-30T16:03:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T16:04:40.529+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fire alarm'/><title type='text'>Men in Pyjamas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Beep beep beep beep beep" said the smoke alarm as it roused everybody in the dorm room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a sight to be seen as the students gathered out in the front lot with nothing but the clothes they wore during their sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody was getting cranky. Imagine having been forced out your bed on a frosty saturday morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared, was one of them. he was feeling a bit uneasy though as the students whined and showed their disapproval with remarks on how they're going to rough up the person who activated the alarm. He casually walked, and whistled, all the while keeping an eye on his room which was visible from the front lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long winded room to room inspection, the firefighters finally found the cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would appear that somebody's fin heater was left out on the hallway. Why? The dust it's collected from unuse caused a billow of smoke which caused the resident to panic and push it out the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess who it was?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8129885711930180339?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8129885711930180339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8129885711930180339&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8129885711930180339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8129885711930180339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/men-in-pyjamas.html' title='Men in Pyjamas'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5336241177091831395</id><published>2007-07-30T13:10:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T13:13:01.211+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Lack of memory</title><content type='html'>Michelle: Watch what you say. You know where it all goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She means this blog of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris has asked Jane if that's the same bread she's eating. You know, the bird food one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane: Yeah, but it's not dodgy. If i make it myself, it's dodgy, but this one is not dodgy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She points at the whole at the bottom of the sandwich made by breadmaker paddles. Chris giggles at this making Jane roll her eyes again.&lt;br /&gt;I personally think she couldn't wait till lunch and decided to eat the bread inside out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We couldn't talk about the news much, as it all revolved around the toddler who was dried in a dryer and it made Jane all uncomfortable. You could just see her bread getting squashed and tuna squeezing out.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And we couldn't talk about movies, cos all movies we watched were either combat movies from the 80s or "after-book-ones", which as a rule, no one is supposed to like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked a bit about lamb and mint sauce and mint sauce without lamb and lamb without mint sauce. But that's pretty much it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I quite liked the pre-lunch conversation with Vicki, which i cannot disclose if i value my life. "And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris, help, lunch finished 5 minutes ago and my memory has already betrayed me. Except for blowing bubbles when i talked i don't remember a thing anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5336241177091831395?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5336241177091831395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5336241177091831395&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5336241177091831395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5336241177091831395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/lack-of-memory.html' title='Lack of memory'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5773139788394331848</id><published>2007-07-20T17:30:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T17:32:16.032+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><title type='text'>Like a thief that comes at night.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;That's how my professor used to describe death's unpredictability - which I experienced firsthand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just learned that my neighbor, Ian, has passed on. Gone at 64, which is a bit too young in my opinion, he's survived by his partner, Laurie and 3 of his adult sons. It's sad as my family already shared a bond with them. They're usually there to help out with odd jobs, there to greet us whenever we come by, was there to share treats, swap stories and exchange garden veggies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I would have given to say goodbye. You will be missed Ian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*tear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5773139788394331848?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5773139788394331848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5773139788394331848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5773139788394331848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5773139788394331848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/like-thief-that-comes-at-night.html' title='Like a thief that comes at night.'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1612501363571863020</id><published>2007-07-19T15:01:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T15:02:07.885+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch Up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Just to get everybody on track with what's happening, as we (including YOU rayloc!) haven't been diligent with the updates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In the last 3 weeks:&lt;br /&gt;- Tony has finally gone back to his mothership after his 2 year mission, seeking out new worlds and species...&lt;br /&gt;- Margaret R jumping the fence on to greener pastures (Her farewell pressie was an 8 foot fishing rod that Jared picked)&lt;br /&gt;- Michael and Bridget accepting their offers to join a bigger corporate machine.&lt;br /&gt;- More developers leaving (equates to a lot of leaving cards signed and cash extorted by the local gang mob)&lt;br /&gt;- BI weekly roster starting.&lt;br /&gt;- Whinging from Rayloc.&lt;br /&gt;- The Carnivale! (Another awesome company party - with pole dancers, drunk clowns, body painting and rides!)&lt;br /&gt;- Transformers!!! (enough said)&lt;br /&gt;- Madeleine giving birth (baby boy)&lt;br /&gt;- The IT Awards night - which was awesome by the way. (You guys should seriously check out Vicki and Rayana's acting prowess)&lt;br /&gt;- Cathy and her scheduling adventures.&lt;br /&gt;- More whinging from Rayloc.&lt;br /&gt;- Paul (the new guy - who happens to hate the All Blacks) finally gives in to the norm and brings some cakes.&lt;br /&gt;- Rob's wife giving birth (baby boy)&lt;br /&gt;- A contagion of some sort affecting the ladies subconscious making them purchase designer jeans that would never fit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whew! Did I forget anything worth writing? Feel free to add.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now on to the present....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1612501363571863020?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1612501363571863020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1612501363571863020&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1612501363571863020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1612501363571863020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/catch-up.html' title='Catch Up.'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6182987940141236360</id><published>2007-07-13T10:51:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:34.850+13:00</updated><title type='text'>A beautiful day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOHzevKYnI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/w5n_fLr0cmU/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOHzevKYnI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/w5n_fLr0cmU/s200/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099068521607488114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came back home at 11:00pm last night, having enjoyed the show, the embarassing movie with me in it, and a mouthful of crème brule. Why a mouhtful? Because I was trying to escape the mundane presentation and we couldn't get desserts until we were properly brainwashed on how proud we should feel to work where we work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi driver has been very nice and told me pleasant stories of people throwing up in his car after aforementioned parties. I quite enjoyed hearing the stories of his washing machine and the dryer that he has put on the curb side. Strangely enough no one took them, so he had to put them back inside his house. At least his daughter got a new washing machine now and wouldn't have to do laundry at their house.  On the other hand the dryer is branded by some girls' school name, so I agree that not many people may want to use the dryer now… After all it's been branded and it's quite a big industrial size one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sure he got home as fast as he could once he dropped me to save the car from people from our company's party. And what a party indeed.. Several times I tried to suspend a yawn in between of my cynical remarks and stares at everyone who was presenting, mentally forcing them to speed up… It felt like a slo mo movie…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home and got beautiful news to finish up the night. My beautiful car has been broken into and a beatiful window smashed to beautiful bits all over my beautiful upholstery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They couldn't get in, however, as when my car is locked from the outside, it can only be open from the outside. It simply doesn't like to think outside the square (or the shape of the car).  So a poor person was trying really hard to pull the door open, gave up, tried to put the back seat down, so he could at least rummage in the trunk, but even that was useless. My hubby is good with packing stuff neatly into the boot, especially when the stuff is beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they left with nothing, but the joy of hearing glass shatter under their powerful hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not to worry, I fell asleep with no other thoughts but to fall asleep and finish the beautiful day accompanied with beautiful snoring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6182987940141236360?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6182987940141236360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6182987940141236360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6182987940141236360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6182987940141236360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/beautiful-day.html' title='A beautiful day!'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOHzevKYnI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/w5n_fLr0cmU/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3683816807291390718</id><published>2007-07-11T14:23:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:34.984+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance with me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOG8evKYlI/AAAAAAAAA5I/3Y57gdUv7kY/s1600-h/showimage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOG8evKYlI/AAAAAAAAA5I/3Y57gdUv7kY/s200/showimage.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099067576714682962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: Are you going to Technology Awards evening?&lt;br /&gt;Chris in a voice that mostly dogs can hear: I want to, but I have nothing to wear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how there's a stereotype for women that says the exact same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested a white shirt and a pair of black trousers. Surely, a man could own a white shirt and a pair of ironed black trousers? ok, skip the ironed part, just black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared: So there's, like, going to be food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod while chewing hard on a bagette i prepared the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared: How about drinks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still nodding from a question before i look at him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared: What else is there to do?&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: What else do you need? There will also be dancing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All eyes turn to Jared. Chris exclaims: Hey, you'd love it, cos you take ballroom dancing lessons!!!&lt;br /&gt;Jared: It's a bit hard wihout a partner, since it's a partner dance. And really it doesn't make much sense, when your partner doesn't know how to dance.&lt;br /&gt;Chris: Why don't you ask Rayana to be your dance partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost choke on a piece of cucumber trying to suppress something between utmost fear and laughter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared calmly: I would, the problem is that I'm used to leading. Knowing Rayana, she probably will grab me and lead, cos you know... she's Rayana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a bad dancer.. I could lead a group around the floor and no one would complain a bit. It's not suprising, considering i probably threatened them into it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3683816807291390718?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3683816807291390718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3683816807291390718&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3683816807291390718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3683816807291390718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/rayana-are-you-going-to-technology.html' title='Dance with me'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOG8evKYlI/AAAAAAAAA5I/3Y57gdUv7kY/s72-c/showimage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2033137320833413089</id><published>2007-07-06T16:02:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:35.114+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beer'/><title type='text'>Fines.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOISOvKYoI/AAAAAAAAA5g/71fAYvJROss/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOISOvKYoI/AAAAAAAAA5g/71fAYvJROss/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099069049888465538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Beer Fine!" Jared shouts out, having caught one of the BA's raising an issue with him by mistake. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then again, I would understand, as there are at least three Jareds in the building - all whose last names sound phonetically identical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the beer fine method was concocted by some bored employee way back eons ago (probably around the same time when Moses brought them tablets down). A time when a lot of people's mobiles disrupted meetings with their incessant ringing. It slowly evolved to almost anything you could pin a colleague for from turning up late for meetings, to calling the beer sheriff an evil witch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having had a penalty dry spell for sometime, Jared gleefully struts down the pod where we keep score. He starts writing down Tanja's name, but ends up with fate's cruel twist. Perhaps it's the anticipation of downing that cool cold bottle &lt;del&gt;(or his mom dropping him too many times on the head) &lt;/del&gt; that made him spell it out as "Tanya" instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's a beer fine for you Jared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2033137320833413089?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2033137320833413089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2033137320833413089&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2033137320833413089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2033137320833413089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/07/fines.html' title='Fines.'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOISOvKYoI/AAAAAAAAA5g/71fAYvJROss/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5501151693003268977</id><published>2007-06-15T14:10:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T14:20:57.232+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hit and Run'/><title type='text'>Run over.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The topic revolved around car incidents, something different from the murder and mutilation we usually talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it started when Chantal mentioned the difficulty people endure to cross the intersection that formed the corner of our building. It didn't really help that it had 8 lanes controlled by a multitude of traffic lights. She told us how people were close to getting run over due to drivers trying to beat the lights. Anyway, this got Rayana a bit worked up about her experience with cars and innocent bystanders getting run down (no, she didn't actually do the 'running' down but more of her experience as a spectator.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;* How her husband, after witnessing a girl getting clipped, drove after the perpetrator, whupped his sorry ass making him go back to help the poor victim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;* From where Jane happened to witness a person, unaware of the world around him, nearly got hit if it wasn't for his acrobatic skills. The guy, apparently awakened from his disconnected state, came out shouting "YAHOO!" much to the amusement of the bewildered onlookers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;* And about Rayana's mom getting sued for heavily denting a vehicle that came at her because her hips were too big (which gives us a bit of a clue what her daughter's gonna look like, knowing that genetics plays a big factor in passing off those traits to offsprings).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* And from Jared's gigantic Irish friend who happens to walk over cars if they stop in the middle of a pedestrian crossing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad I don't have any car-like stories to tell. Never did have an interesting one. When I do get run over, I'll let you know. (I'll make Jared proud and won't scream like a girl when that happens.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5501151693003268977?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5501151693003268977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5501151693003268977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5501151693003268977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5501151693003268977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/06/run-over.html' title='Run over.'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-989215647146827415</id><published>2007-06-14T10:56:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T10:56:54.349+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Connections</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Over our fish and chips lunch, Rayloc, Steve and Kevin were all talking about some pretty interesting stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The connection data we're working on seem to be misrepresented." Rayana says. "They don't make sense as there seem to be huge gaps with the segments being reported on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- Black out alert!!! ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah I agree." replies Steve. "We did some work investigating. Even pre-calculating the median to compensate for the unfactored indeterminates correlating with the pre-balancing issues"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just about to reach for a fork when I noticed that it's plastic. "Nahh." I reconsidering the thought as I have to stab myself a couple of times for that to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Would you believe the margin of error to be 23%?" Rayana says laughing (obviously amused). "Even the base deviation was horribly skewed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---- Black out ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well it could either be that the data just had some bad sampling or there might be something wrong with the source system load." Kevin says thoughtfully. "You know how that is, given the few issues we have migrating. But happens with every system though." He says reassuringly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to suggest that the hamster running on the treadwheel might be causing all these issues but got interrupted as Kevin continued on. (much to my despair).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what, I'll check it out. Send me some of the source code used for the ETL. It may well be obvious for us to track down as your analysis may well prove that it's a data defect."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought of jumping through the window was now becoming a favourable option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, That's nothing compared to the Cubes I'm setting up!" Jared pipes in, joining the fray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having had enough, I took my mobile out. Flipped it open, even entertaining the thought of using it to club these people back into their senses, and politely excused myself to check my voicemail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's actually not a bad product at all, why doesn't anybody introduce a mobile service where you could send a text and an  automated system rings you back to save you from that seemingly bad inescapable situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Disclaimer. The part after the first sentence may or may not have happened as my brain was busy re-booting after the outage. I don't think anybody even noticed my eyes rolling due to my chinky features. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-989215647146827415?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/989215647146827415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=989215647146827415&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/989215647146827415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/989215647146827415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/06/connections.html' title='Connections'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8503082015426658531</id><published>2007-06-08T10:01:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:35.275+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOIvevKYpI/AAAAAAAAA5o/Kv-wvmPqVBo/s1600-h/725972_dark_tunnel.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOIvevKYpI/AAAAAAAAA5o/Kv-wvmPqVBo/s200/725972_dark_tunnel.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099069552399639186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It was dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds to get accustomed to the darkness. I could barely see anything except for the dingy patterned walls that make up the narrow corridor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfazed with the environment, Jared moves on. I recall a familiar horror movie scene where the football jock charges carelessly into the dark, only to find themselves at the wrong end of a sharp kitchen knife. Scenes as the perpetrator twists the metal object deeper and deeper deliberately making the victim scream out for dear life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran my hand along the walls trying to distract myself from my terrified state, I noticed eerie patterns which wasn't obvious before. Looking closer, I suddenly realised that the patterns themselves were actually symbols of witchcraft and the occult! "What could do they possibly mean?" I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the faint light available, I could barely make out the staircase as we approached the end of the hallway. I gave Jared my "Are we going up?" look hoping to back out as early as now. But without as much as a hesitation, Jared tests the first step. As he gradually puts all his weight down in one foot. I could hear the board creak as it groans from the massive weight. Pleased that it didn't give way, Jared continues the climb but stops halfway when he saw that I wasn't following. Giving me a stern look, I immediately read his thoughts associating me with a feathered farmyard animal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nobody calls me chicken." I say to myself. Frowning as I reluctantly follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next floor was rather curious as the flight led directly to three doors. All identical except for the colours. We tried the first one in front with no luck as it just led to a small unlit storage space with nothing in it. To save time, we decided to try each door on both sides. We opened them simultaneously and found both leading to long dark seemingly endless hallways. I took a deep breath and went in. I walked a few meters forward before looking back just to see the door close behind me. It's too dark. Too dark to see anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly heard a scuffle behind me. Knowing that I wont see anything, I still look back anyway. My eyes gave nothing away but strained my ears trying to pinpoint where the sound came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I see a faint glimmer of red just beyond the reach of my eyesight. It seemed to be floating towards me complemented with the slow scuffling sound. The red dot separated into to two as I finally saw an outline of a semi-humanoid form I could barely make out. Then I realised that they were eyes. Eyes atop this hideous creature's head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I froze in terror. My feet heavy as and held in place by an invisible hand. I could see the flames of hell burning in his eyes as he came closer and closer. The stare alone could shatter a man's will and let him scream for mercy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It snarled and made a low unearthly guttural sound. Somewhat growling and rumbling, shaking the plaster on the crumbling walls. I knew it was the sound that most predators make just before they jump atop their prey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I ran. I ran like a crazed loon never even looking back. I eventually found my way out and saw myself standing in the sunshine again with Jared shortly coming out, panting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you see it?" I exasperatedly said. "Did you see the big ugly creature running after me???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That was ME you dumbass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hit me hard as it all it all made sense. The red evil eyes was just Jared's irritation for getting lost looking for the food court. The loud rumbling was, of course, his stomach protesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing was my fault as I told him we'll try the back door to find the food place Rayana recommended.I know it's silly to get lost in the same building where the food court is but the signs were really really misleading.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8503082015426658531?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8503082015426658531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8503082015426658531&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8503082015426658531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8503082015426658531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/06/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOIvevKYpI/AAAAAAAAA5o/Kv-wvmPqVBo/s72-c/725972_dark_tunnel.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1750769532383563538</id><published>2007-06-06T10:56:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:35.543+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOJdOvKYqI/AAAAAAAAA5w/d51uKBD-E7Y/s1600-h/freedom.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOJdOvKYqI/AAAAAAAAA5w/d51uKBD-E7Y/s200/freedom.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099070338378654370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she brings a red cup to her mouth patiently waiting for the coffee to meet her lips, only to find that there's no coffee in a cup. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cup wasn't half empty, it was completely empty and nicely dried with a paper towel only 10 minutes prior.&lt;br /&gt;She stares blankly into a cup and bursts out laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone turns and stares in amusement. It's a first time since she joined the team that they hear her laugh out loud for no apparent reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She laughs so hard the tears are bursting out of her eyes and she simply doesn't care. She's finally free to laugh it out. Let them guess what the reason is, they will never know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1750769532383563538?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1750769532383563538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1750769532383563538&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1750769532383563538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1750769532383563538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/06/freedom.html' title='Freedom'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RsOJdOvKYqI/AAAAAAAAA5w/d51uKBD-E7Y/s72-c/freedom.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6720384811496163477</id><published>2007-06-01T15:03:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T15:06:08.046+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Nevada</title><content type='html'>Sorry, another late post, as I was busy updating my other stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'm having lunch with my colleagues picking away at my fat covered lasagna which I bought from the cafe round the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation pretty much centred on Vicki and Rayana's conference in Nevada. Jared and I were desperately trying to to pry some details about the trip but came up empty handed. Rayana did squeeze talking about about her mother-in-law's holiday here and how she seems to be doing the house cleaning a bit. She even mentioned how MIL goes through their underwear drawers, sorting them and putting the dirty ones in the laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is until, Rayana blurted out. "Vicki ate rice balls in Vegas at 2 in the morning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vicki was shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not supposed to tell!! Rayana! Do you even remember what we talked about?" Vicki says (possibly the same tone she uses when one of her daughters does something naughty.) "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Well, I still think that's an okay thing to do at 2am - as long as you weren't standing in the buffet table 'til 5 having your way with the circly ricy treats.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vicki was about to continue and say something Rayana did but took the high road instead. "Too bad." I thought as that would have been a juicy tidbit for the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She instead, deftly manoeuvres to a different topic and  told us what she got for mother's day. "My daughter," She says proudly , "gave me a silver ring with a big pink/purple heart shaped jewel on top!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"while my other daughter gave me a nice yellow coloured underwear... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was just processing that last word, I heard a little voice laughing in my head saying "ha haa! toooo laaaate!" as the mental image burned through the front left and right hemispheres of my brain emotionally scarring me for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even hear "... dotted with pink hearts." as my mind reeled with too much info.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great. Just another thought I need for the monthly meetings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6720384811496163477?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6720384811496163477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6720384811496163477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6720384811496163477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6720384811496163477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/06/nevada.html' title='Nevada'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4367735540913463469</id><published>2007-05-29T10:38:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T10:47:06.498+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Carrots</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously! As there's not a crumb left… the sneaky rayana rabbit has struck again!&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;From: Rayloc&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Tuesday, 29 May 2007 10:31 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;To: TECH BI&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Subject: RE: Chocolate on shelving on Level 3 - and muffins as well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;And they are absolutely delicious! My personal favourite - carrot with pumpkin !!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;From: Bridget&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Tuesday, 29 May 2007 9:56 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;To: TECH BI&lt;br /&gt;Subject: RE: Chocolate on shelving on Level 3 - and muffins as well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;From: Nick&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Tuesday, 29 May 2007 9:10 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;To: TECH BI&lt;br /&gt;Subject: Chocolate on shelving on Level 3 eom&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4367735540913463469?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4367735540913463469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4367735540913463469&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4367735540913463469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4367735540913463469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/carrots.html' title='Carrots'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1102179237645745040</id><published>2007-05-22T16:02:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T16:04:43.184+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Freedom'/><title type='text'>Prison Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This entry's a couple of days late but hey, I do have a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe this started when Logan joined us for lunch which eventually led to his story about his grandma who he calls once in a while for a quick chat. Grandma apparently has a bad memory as whenever she finishes her chat with Logan, she hangs up and forgets that Logan's still waiting on the line to talk to his mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which led to Jared's story about their visit to Kate's grandmother who's been recently &lt;del&gt;forced&lt;/del&gt; assigned to the local retirement villa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they were going about, Jared noticed two senior citizens trying to figure out how to open the access gates that littered the compound. Evidently, an old man on a mobility scooter was trying to get in and another on his walker was trying to go the other way. Like an antiquated game tug-of-war, one of them was struggling to pull and the other one was straining to get the gate to go his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I won't judge and tell you how easy it is to open a gate but I'm sure when I get to that age I might find it hard to work it all out, specially if another annoying person in a mobility scooter is trying to pull it the other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were going at it for a couple of minutes when Kate finally caves in and says. "Why don't you go down there and help those two people with the gate?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another chance to prove that I'm a real man." Jared thinks to himself, as he struts toward the two helpless citizens. "This should be no easier than polishing of a 20 piece KFC bucket."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He promptly comes up and proudly shows them how to work the pull on gate. "...and this is how you work this out gentlemen" he says, pulling the latch up and swinging the door with ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could just imagine scooter boy breathe a huge sigh of relief as he rolls in and goes about his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Jared was a bit puzzled as the other geezer on his walker seem to have quickly increased his hop as if in a hurry. The man must have noticed Jared's puzzled look as he says "I'm just going out for a walk son." punctuating it with a reassuring wink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that said, Jared let's the old man go about his way. Walking back though, he realised that it must have been a bad idea to let the man out. He then decides to go directly to reception and report the incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He barely finishes explaining himself when one of the shriveled female residents shrieks "Richard's making a runnah!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I burst out laughing at this point as it just gave me an odd image of an elderly man hobbling across the lawn trying to make a break for it screaming "You'll never get me suckers!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, unfortunately, the escapee didn't really go that far. Jared mentioned that he only went halfway across the lawn before a couple of interns tackled him to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, I would have given anything to see the man's expression on his quick bid for freedom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1102179237645745040?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1102179237645745040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1102179237645745040&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1102179237645745040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1102179237645745040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/prison-break.html' title='Prison Break'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6153619848512840161</id><published>2007-05-21T14:00:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T14:35:32.590+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><title type='text'>Come back here again</title><content type='html'>The stupidity and the ignorance of some people comes in batches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:51 Phone rings, it's Chris asking me out for lunch (well, not actually out, as it's a bit gloomy out, but definitely away from my desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:52 I jump up from my desk, hop excitedly towards elevators, remember I'm now on a second floor and taking an elevator DOWN is way more than lame, I sigh and take the stairs slightly less excitedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:53 Chris turns, sees me walk through the door like an angel with a purple halo (too much cauliflower) and starts to build up a wide grin from ear-to-ear to prepare himself for 20 minutes of "happy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:54 we notice Jane in a cafe, sleeping with her head in a newspaper. She wakes up when we both scream Hellos and starts giggling again. She kept giggling since I saw her this morning. This is how our meeting went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane: How guys, so let's start, How is xx?&lt;br /&gt;Phil: Fine. I got a 100,000 phone calls this Friday about some issue.&lt;br /&gt;Jane: hehe, ok. How is yy?&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: Fine and fine&lt;br /&gt;Jane: hehe, ok. How is zz?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the conversation became slightly heated as the opinions of a zz status were slightly different. With the white noise in the background Jane turns to me in a do-you-see-what-i-have-to-put-up-with look. Me being me interrupts everyone with a Jamaican accent: I hear your pain, sista!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where all went wrong (or right). Jane had burst out laughing with those little breaks in between that sound like tiny snorts, when you know it's real and it aint going nowhere until it all comes out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane: hahahaa, heheheheh, how is heheheheh abcd, hahaha, abcd, ahhahah.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as she stops everyone else laughs in amuzement and that just charges her up even more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so any who.... she was still laughing at 12 when we saw her in a cafe. she blames me for that... typical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to have lunch in a cafe. Sitting in a cafe downstairs I stupidly started a topic of Writers and Readers festival that Chris and I looked at this morning and thought would be nice to culturally educate ourselves by going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This gave Jane a big burst of energy, not counting the second cup of coffee she was having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane: Oh, I'm going to that too! Do you know that so-and-so will be doing a presentation at this and this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn to Chris to ensure his stare is as blank as mine and in unison we reply: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane: And, I'm also going to Matthew Collins' presentation about this and that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I heard a familiar name: Oh is that the guy that has a gallery?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane: Not JUST that! he also wrote "a fancy name of the book Chris and I didn't dream of reading". Did you read that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris and I just look at each other. Don't know what he's thinking, I'm thinking I need to keep my mouth shut about cultural activities in front of Jane, as I definitely don't know a tenth of what she's talking about. Not that I don't want to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared just kept munching with a smart upper-thigh face he usually has when conversations stir away from body, diet, body diet and ballroom dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Whilst Jane was talking, I actually saw Jared grab the plastic knife and try cutting his wrists underneath the table. -- edited by Chris.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris: Umm... khem-khem.. I just wanted something basic. you know... not for me, for my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is how we realize how ignorant we are, kids. I'm still going to the writers fest, but I will now be on guard for Jane :).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6153619848512840161?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6153619848512840161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6153619848512840161&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6153619848512840161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6153619848512840161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/come-back-here-again.html' title='Come back here again'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6061208320167329694</id><published>2007-05-21T12:03:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:25:01.090+12:00</updated><title type='text'>WooHoo - we're bafling again!</title><content type='html'>I was so delighted to check bafl this morning and discover that there are new postings (thanks Mr Glass) and that Rayloc has returned with her musings!!  Ok - so she was a bit wound up about not having purple cauliflower for dinner or something, but at least she is back :)   Although - I still can't work out why she was at work at 7am (was that to escape from the possibility of being fed rainbow coloured porridge for breakfast?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Jared is obese?  Was it a trainee nurse maybe?  Did she have the wrong end of the instrument in her hand?  Look - I know our Health System is in disarray, but clearly this nurse knows not what she does.  This is more confusing to me than Mr Cullen's budget speach.  Jared:  I am not medically trained (well - I do tamper in the occassional psychiatric assistance department which is "come, let's go for a beer and talk about your issues") but you appear to me to be lean and muscular with no trace of fat.  And yes, you do seem to have lovely thighs.  So put this behind you and fire the nurse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Chris, I too went to the Boat Show &lt;sigh&gt;.  Oh man - did you go on board the Genesis and the Sea Rays?  Sob.  Tom bought a fishing rod and reel for the new soft baits.  Maybe one day someone can explain why man needs an array of 10 rods and 10 reels to fish successfully?  Give a girl a stick, some line and a hook, and she'll be fine.  Or in Rayloc's case a squid jig and a torch :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 4 more dentist appointments coming up.  Having not been near a dentist in 15 years, things weren't too bad.  I need to have my old fillings removed and replaced with fancy new ones.  So I'm looking forward to having my new gnashers all sorted for when we meet up again for lunch.  Not that pasta requires much gnashing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm making roast chicken and going to stuff orange slices under the skin.  I have no idea why but it sounds interesting and I'm enjoying my kitchen - well it's more like a new experimental cooking laboratory than a kitchen at the moment.  Fortunately I haven't exploded anything and most of the fires have been put out relatively quickly with no observable damage.  Rayloc - I'm accompanying the roast chicken with BROWN gravy, GREEN peas, YELLOW corn, WHITE potatoes and WHITE cauliflower with YELLOW cheese sauce.  I'm contemplating adding PURPLE beetroot but not sure at this point........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you all and miss you.  See you soon :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Owl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6061208320167329694?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6061208320167329694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6061208320167329694&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6061208320167329694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6061208320167329694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/woohoo-were-bafling-again.html' title='WooHoo - we&apos;re bafling again!'/><author><name>The Owl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14053939286730422751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7030723440801192149</id><published>2007-05-21T10:20:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T10:23:07.169+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey!</title><content type='html'>Heya Jenita,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad you still remember auckland and us! We all thought that you're soooo busy with your bf that you've already forgotten that there are other people other than aborigines, koalas and kangaroos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to deny that you're pregnant. One of your friends kindly sent us a picture and we noticed that you're belly's beginning to grow rounder. =) or was it just the beer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a lot of people going as well, Debbie, then Margaret, then Mark, and then Rayana got moved over to the 2nd floor! It's kinda sad, I'm actually thinking of putting an ad in the paper for anybody interested in joining us for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared's still alive, we lately had a health check and his results came back saying he was obese. I honestly cant believe it. I think the nurse got it wrong. I see him everyday and don't think he's that fat. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rayana was moved down to lvl 2 coz she was so noisy distracting everybody. She has some new marketing friends now. She sometimes comes up to visit but not that often anymore. She actually came up this morning and stole some important hexadecimal number from Chris' desk! Grrrr!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony's wearing a headband lately. We suggested he use a scrunchie instead coz we really thought the company employed a new chick to manage core. He still rocks but we're sad lately that he might have to go soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris is really depressed as he went to the boat show yesterday and saw a lot of things he can't afford. He did end up buying a fishing rod just to make himself feel better. Now if only somebody teaches him how to fish...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all nothing eventful. It's still a bit warm compared to last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baflbot&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7030723440801192149?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7030723440801192149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7030723440801192149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7030723440801192149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7030723440801192149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/hey.html' title='Hey!'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2792570413496739304</id><published>2007-05-18T10:31:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T10:36:49.680+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ass'/><title type='text'>Word for the Day</title><content type='html'>Here's a new word / phrase I learnt today which I'm going to write down before I forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upper Thigh:&lt;br /&gt;Used to politely describe a person's biggest muscle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e.g. Jared works hard to be the company's smart &lt;em&gt;upper thigh&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2792570413496739304?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2792570413496739304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2792570413496739304&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2792570413496739304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2792570413496739304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/word-for-day.html' title='Word for the Day'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7774370897152628836</id><published>2007-05-17T07:29:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T07:40:30.639+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Pissed Off</title><content type='html'>Yeah, I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 7:00am in the morning and I am in the office! All alone and very angry. A dangerous combination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't call it the winter blues, cos I don't hear no music and don't see no blue. The sun is shining straight into my right eye, and I'm half-blind in addition to being pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wondering if the Owl has been experiencing the same when she was here. And now i fully understand why she left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother-in-law has ironed every single piece of clothing I own, and my husband is not talking to me, cos I'm pissed off with it. Instead, he decided he's going to buy himself a big a$$ boat from a boat show to compensate for my mood swings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a 4 course dinner last night, just when i am desperately trying to lose weight. And don't make it sound like a good thing!!! Try to say No to a meal that a person cooked and waited for you to arrive home to a nicely arranged table with all the colors of the rainbow, except purple (Thank Goodness, she doesn't know that there's a purple cauliflower for sale at Pak'n'Save now). Being the Nice (yeah  right) person that I am, of course I had to try all 4 of those that were put in front of me, finish them right after such kind comments as "if you don't like it, don't eat it, please take something else". So I stuff my mouth, and produce as many Mmmmm sounds as possible between mouthfulls and during.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am extremely angry and I don't think that's going anywhere.. Have developed a nice headache, but can't even go home, cos it's going to be more of Mmmmm - thank you! ARRGGHH... somebody help me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i sound like a mean you-know-what.. but i'm just tired of it all, that's all. This is not a good place to vent, but it feels so good that i don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew... feels good to vent...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a good note, dear Owl, we missed you so much. I personally have missed your inspirational attitude and your calming presense. I miss you and your pfff-typical comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps we could meet up for lunch with the WHOLE bunch of people next week? Your fav - empire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is no place to chat, but definitely organize stuff :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7774370897152628836?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7774370897152628836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7774370897152628836&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7774370897152628836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7774370897152628836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/pissed-off.html' title='Pissed Off'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4569394783939081654</id><published>2007-05-15T14:07:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T14:10:13.911+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gnocchi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Antony'/><title type='text'>Pasta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The poor Owl must have fallen of her perch to make her cancel our lunch appointment. Must have been a bit serious as she had to quickly rush out and take an appointment with the avian dentist. (I know birds don't have teeth smartypants, I just put it there to make it more interesting!) Maybe next time Ms. Owl, I'm sure the food wouldn't have tasted nice anyway with the thought of italian food crawling into your molar cavity afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we still ended up eating at our fave Italian place. The pasta was great but the conversation wasn't very pleasant. It was mostly about the company restructure and the different techniques you could use to call in sick. One of them was pouring water down the toilet while on the phone with your boss. Don't even ask me what sort of sound that's simulating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Rayana did try to pronounce a couple of Italian words which unfortunately came out sounding German.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4569394783939081654?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4569394783939081654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4569394783939081654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4569394783939081654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4569394783939081654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/pasta.html' title='Pasta'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8239466754885086424</id><published>2007-05-11T15:14:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T15:28:44.060+12:00</updated><title type='text'>The Owl is wondering ....</title><content type='html'>... is nobody having lunch since Rayloc has swanned off to Las Vegas?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not healthy that you aren't eating.&lt;br /&gt;Even less healthy that you aren't blogging.&lt;br /&gt;Even less healthy for the unemployed Owl who spends hours each day logged onto BAFL hitting the refresh button and there is no news!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK - I'll give you some news.  Well - life is great.  I get up each morning (without that awful pit in my stomach that I have to crawl through traffic for over an hour) and then I.......I um....well I....I sort of like......well.......you know......well I check BAFL......and then I......well I make another coffee......and then I like........well I check email......and then I check nzherald......and then I switch on TV and watch the news and then I like.....make more coffee and drink it on the deck whilst having a ciggie and watching the sunrise.   I do enjoy sunrises - I never noticed how beautiful they are you know - all those colours that you can't actually describe.  Actually, I've been making up names for some of the colours - my favourite is crushed strawberries :)  And I also like vanilla butter and orchestra violet and stewed blueberries (I promise I'm just smoking normal cigarettes!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway - after the sun has risen and the symphony of colour is over, I make some more coffee and then I ...... well I refresh BAFL and usually feel most disappointed.  Sometimes I return to the comfort of my duvet with a book, sometimes I read the jobs on SEEK, then after laughing hysterically I return to bed.  Sometimes I do housework and plan the evening meal.  I have come to enjoy the daily trip to Foodtown on my mission to gather ingredients for the evening cook up.  I am rediscovering the beauty of garlic and herbs and had no idea there was such cool and amazing things to buy in the way of foodstuffs.  Amazing what wonderful products they've invented in the last couple of years that I've never seen when I whizz through the aisles at 100 miles an hour with the express purpose of getting out of there and home as soon as possible.  I do know the beer/wine aisle quite well and the fast food section - but man - there is so much cool stuff hidden between the toilet roll and personal hygiene aisle !!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my darlings - as always - you know I miss you heaps.  I am concerned about your personal diets and mental wellbeing and would very much like to know what you are eating for lunch (if indeed you are having lunch!!) and what you are discussing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love as always&lt;br /&gt;The Owl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8239466754885086424?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8239466754885086424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8239466754885086424&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8239466754885086424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8239466754885086424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/owl-is-wondering.html' title='The Owl is wondering ....'/><author><name>The Owl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14053939286730422751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3546914330182177088</id><published>2007-05-04T13:35:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T14:39:58.824+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twins'/><title type='text'>Twins.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Another day, another bus ride. This time most of the passengers are school kids from the uni to intermediate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;One of the games I play on the bus is the 'celeb look alike' bus game. Which involves matching as many ordinary bus people with their celebrity lookalike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a celeb match immediately. One of the passengers really really looked like Sanjaya from American Idol. Even the hairstyles were an exact match. Hmmm. Google it if you're curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did see a pair of female twins, which I thought was pretty cool. Apart from the colour of their backpacks, they're all identical down to the dresses and hairstyles they wore. It was pretty fascinating as the last time I saw twins was a TV show called &lt;em&gt;Bananas in Pajamas&lt;/em&gt;. I always had trouble telling them apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they were playing some sort of game where they were licking their fingers and wiping it off each others clothes (and faces). It must the current hip thing that teenagers are playing nowadays. Hmmmm. Things must have changed a bit as I've never exchanged bodily fluids willy nilly, well, not on a bus anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which made me think of the implications. If they kept at it longer, would the twins merge into one?  You know, like twins carry each other's DNA. If they get enough DNA's off each other, would they turn into a single blob of goo or just disappear in a puff of smoke?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they did stop afterwards before my theory got validated. Hmph. Perhaps next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3546914330182177088?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3546914330182177088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3546914330182177088&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3546914330182177088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3546914330182177088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/twins.html' title='Twins.'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4297603911919833225</id><published>2007-05-03T10:05:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T13:35:02.259+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Breakfast.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ducks'/><title type='text'>BAFL-B (Back from Lé Breakfast)</title><content type='html'>It's a bit chilly this morning as we had a shower of cold rain before sunlight hit. I've been taking the bus lately, which is a whole lot better than driving. It does have it's cons, like noisy passengers, but sometimes worth it if you're not in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus gradually filled as it made several stops to the city. As the driver drove closer, it was then that I noticed that there were only 7 vacant seats left. And one of them's the one beside me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the next stop, I was eyeing the next person as she clambered on the bus. I was half expecting that she's going to pick my empty seat and repress my paranoia. She walked down and did stop by by my aisle, but only to pause and grunt before moving further back to the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Was it something I wore?" I ask myself. "I took a damn shower this morning you know!!!" I was tempted to shout but thought the better of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened 2-3 more times, which was very unhelpful to my already small ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do I look like a serial killer to you? Arghhh!" Perhaps the bloody butcher's knife and ski mask propped beside me gave it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont' get me wrong though, I don't normally mind if people don't sit with me, but today seems different. It felt like you're being picked on last when the captains choose teams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, somebody eventually took that seat which pretty much shut me up. I happily turned on my ipod and thought of the next thing I'd worry about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, unforutnately, didn't take long as the bus passed through one of the many parks that dotted the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right in the middle of the park were a congregation of ducks, well... congregating. I would have said a 'flock' of ducks but not with the way they were acting. What struck me odd was how they formed a circle around the 'lead' duck who was right smack in the middle - very symmetrical. The oddest bit was all the ducks forming the circle weren't moving, or going about their normal ducky ways. I think they were actually having a meeting! I had to turn my head around just to reassure myself that it's real. Unbelievable! 7am for a meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quack!" Says the Duck foreman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now before we start the day, I want to make sure that all the parents look after the baby ducks, ehermm, i mean the ducklings as we dont want any of them wandering about."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To get to the agenda, here are the parks where duck feeding's popular at the moment." As he points to the key places on his powerpoint slide. "Fly here, here and here and you're pretty much set for the rest of the day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And finally, make sure you don't go wandering about any peking restaurants. We all know what happened to Daisy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have to start getting some sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4297603911919833225?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4297603911919833225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4297603911919833225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4297603911919833225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4297603911919833225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/bafl-b-back-from-l-breakfast.html' title='BAFL-B (Back from Lé Breakfast)'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8469710491309473476</id><published>2007-05-01T10:11:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T10:14:09.116+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Diary of the Unemployed Owl</title><content type='html'>Monday:&lt;br /&gt;8.30 am - stir, open eyes, look at the clock.&lt;br /&gt;8.31 am - burst out laughing&lt;br /&gt;8.32 am - roll over and go back to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday:&lt;br /&gt;9.30 am - stir, open eyes and listen to the rain softly falling&lt;br /&gt;9.31 am - smile&lt;br /&gt;9.32 am - roll over and go back to sleep&lt;br /&gt;10.00 am - wake again and leap out of bed to go and bafl :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8469710491309473476?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8469710491309473476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8469710491309473476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8469710491309473476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8469710491309473476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/05/diary-of-unemployed-owl.html' title='Diary of the Unemployed Owl'/><author><name>The Owl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14053939286730422751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8645128759703448581</id><published>2007-04-30T09:21:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T09:22:42.974+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Diary</title><content type='html'>8:40am As I sit down and boot my machine, I noticed a little sticky note on the edge of my screen. "I was here, where were you?" Hmmm. I could only speculate where the note came from, but I'm pretty sure it was the girl I was working with before. If it was her, it was a nice gesture coming from a person from the underworld.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:47am I visited the kitchen planning to pour myself a hot chocolate drink. I notice immediately that the coffee machine was awfully quiet. The 'espresso' button was all dusty and looked unused. Oh poor button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:00am Munching on my chocolate cookies, I look around and find myself all alone in my pod. Feeling sad, I took a deep sip and immediately spat it out back to my cup. "God, that's hot." I say to myself. I quickly make a reach for my ocean beach tissue dispenser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:02am I sense distinct quake like vibrations growing louder and louder. I turn around and see Jared coming over, I quickly press alt-tab and pretend that I'm working. I quickly asked a complicated technical question, "Where is the universe expanding to, Jared?" - which unfortunately sends him running away. Ahhh, the wonders of cosmology. Works every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:05am Finished my cookies and started another awesome Monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8645128759703448581?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8645128759703448581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8645128759703448581&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8645128759703448581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8645128759703448581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/dear-diary.html' title='Dear Diary'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5599515395768168927</id><published>2007-04-27T14:14:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T14:17:13.216+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Now Hiring</title><content type='html'>Title: Resident Social Butterfly (female only)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2007-05-01&lt;br /&gt;Term: full or part time&lt;br /&gt;Pay Rate: Very Competitive Salary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Major Responsibilities:&lt;br /&gt;- Interact with the team and keep them in good spirits.&lt;br /&gt;- Play pranks in good taste.&lt;br /&gt;- Must know how to annoy people without crossing the line.&lt;br /&gt;- Organise interesting lunches everyday.&lt;br /&gt;- Excellent in organising and preparing social events for the whole calendar year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minimum Qualifications:&lt;br /&gt;- Must be excellent in sending emails about jokes, trivia, and other interesting stuff.&lt;br /&gt;- Must be excellent in making fun of people.&lt;br /&gt;- Needs to laugh very loud&lt;br /&gt;- Should giggle in meetings&lt;br /&gt;- Excellent blog writer&lt;br /&gt;- Skilled in smacking people without provocation&lt;br /&gt;- Skilled in hitting the baby buddha (Optional)&lt;br /&gt;- Ownage of an island is highly preferred (optional)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perks of the job include the following: Medical checkups (by Chantal), Dental, Fitness, and Metrosexual well being (by Jared), Music and Guitar lessons (by Tony), South African Linguistics (by Logan), Australian Literature and Health Advice (by Jane), Unix Training (by the 'nix nerds), Skiing, mountain biking, rough water kayaking, and mountain climbing lessons (Vicki - the resident superwoman), Leaky homeproofing (Claire), Lessons on whipping DBAs (Bridget), SA Culinary Lessons (Lindsay), Carpentry and General DIY (Michael)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5599515395768168927?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5599515395768168927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5599515395768168927&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5599515395768168927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5599515395768168927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/now-hiring.html' title='Now Hiring'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2864017481102138216</id><published>2007-04-24T13:36:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T13:38:09.353+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Garfield'/><title type='text'>The Empty Desk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Empty Desk &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;as inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Once upon a midnight dreary, after I've finished my work for quaint Ms. Pacey.&lt;br /&gt;I happen to glance on an empty desk,&lt;br /&gt;the desk of Margaret, from ages before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that her desk just as empty? just like a can of coke on Chris's floor?"&lt;br /&gt;I tried to consider, strained to recall, what happened from years before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I distinctly remember, I'm sure it was in in the bleak of Febr'y&lt;br /&gt;A gentle sound of ding! - of email arriving on my inbox store.&lt;br /&gt;"'tis another mail," I muttered "from Rayana, the horror next door;&lt;br /&gt;only this, and nothing more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon reading that fortuitous email, i suddenly felt weak with worry,&lt;br /&gt;"Has Margaret grown a bit weary working?" &lt;br /&gt;"Working on this company's floor?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I read the news, it filled me with fantastic terrors I've never felt before.&lt;br /&gt;"What will happen? I say and ask. What will happen to DW Core?"&lt;br /&gt;To still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,&lt;br /&gt;"Is this true, Jared? A foolish joke, nothing more?"&lt;br /&gt;The answer was something I dreaded,&lt;br /&gt;of where this conversation's headed,&lt;br /&gt;of Jared's look and his voice all breaking.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm afraid 'tis true, her notice was sent this morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing,&lt;br /&gt;As I tried to recall that dreaded day, nothing more, nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;Her desk all empty, with Garfield all but showing.&lt;br /&gt;Her broken chair, lay down lying, strewn across the floor,&lt;br /&gt;Her chocolate cofee's all but eaten, sitting in Chantal's draw'r.&lt;br /&gt;Her keyboard 'tis covered in dust, with nothing but her prints absorbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I drag myself to exit, I steal a quick glance once more.&lt;br /&gt;Across her empty and hallow desk, I mutter:&lt;br /&gt;"Was so bitter to see you leave, with all our hopes forlorn.&lt;br /&gt;"I just hope again it doesn't happen again, nevermore, nevermore."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2864017481102138216?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2864017481102138216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2864017481102138216&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2864017481102138216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2864017481102138216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/empty-desk.html' title='The Empty Desk'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3305852365496534038</id><published>2007-04-20T17:18:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T17:26:14.143+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>hi all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't cry Rayana, I will finish the rest of the signs for you..&lt;br /&gt;....coffee and milk will last longer coz I drink at least 2 or 3 sometimes.....&lt;br /&gt;....Coca Cola will decrease vending machine sales by 5 bottles of 600ml Coke Zero per week, 20 per month, xxx per year&lt;br /&gt;....Chris will become the only one writing jackets in the office during summer time...&lt;br /&gt;....no more Tony-look-alike around the building, the security lady downstairs asked us if I am Tony's sister &gt;.&lt;&lt;br /&gt;...no more altis 'gang' lunch, meeting that we secretly run off to every now and then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks everyone, haha, it has been great having lunches with you all, very interesting conversations all the time, despite my few comments, i kept it all in my head..hahahaha...I hope that my workmates over in the UK will be as fun as you guys, i will try to introduce beer fines, chocolate taxes, welcome cake, leaving cake if they don't have it in place!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care everyone&lt;br /&gt;Margaret =) (aka magafei - 'gafei' stands for garfield in chinese)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3305852365496534038?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3305852365496534038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3305852365496534038&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3305852365496534038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3305852365496534038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>magafei</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6657820545118376287</id><published>2007-04-20T16:33:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T16:37:22.595+12:00</updated><title type='text'>What's happening?</title><content type='html'>This is how you know things are going wrong. You write more articles about someone leaving that coming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top 10 signs that Margaret has left us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even less converse shoes in the office&lt;br /&gt;No more Garfield images&lt;br /&gt;It seems to be louder now&lt;br /&gt;Rayana cannot stop crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh man, someone else finish this for me please.................................................................................................................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6657820545118376287?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6657820545118376287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6657820545118376287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6657820545118376287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6657820545118376287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/whats-happening.html' title='What&apos;s happening?'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6534736143829126971</id><published>2007-04-19T18:11:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T22:00:34.159+12:00</updated><title type='text'>my side of the story</title><content type='html'>6:50 Alarm goes off on my mobile phone&lt;br /&gt;6:50:03 I send it flying under the bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:00 Alarm goes off under the bed while my dog happily munches on it&lt;br /&gt;7:01 I unglue my eyes and crawl under to retrieve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:10 Alarm goes off&lt;br /&gt;7:11 I run out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in my mouth desperately trying to switch it off, before the Grump wakes up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:50 Leave the house at full speed trying to cut off in as many spaces between cars as possible to make up for lost time.&lt;br /&gt;8:30 Squash myself into an elevator and yawn all the way through to the third floor, giving nasty stares to those who stop at second&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:33 Walking to my desk I see Chris sleeping at his desk. I give him a nudge in the ribs. "What are you doing here?" He jumps up to the ceiling and then breaks down in giggles. I roll my eyes and plump down on a seat.&lt;br /&gt;8:35 Log in to my machine while Chris is suspiciously eyeing me. 'How are you?' he cautiously asks. "Hmmphh" I reply in my generosity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:45 My machine responds to my username and password. Yes, another success! "Coffee! Coffee! Coffee!?" I shout to celebrate the successful beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:47 I manage to pick Chris up off the floor and brush the dust off his sholders. "Coffee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walk 10 feet to the coffee machine, when Debs walks in in all her glory. Together: "Good morning, Debbie!". Half the floor looks up in their meercat amusement at the brief interruption. "Good morning darling and sweetie!". It takes a long while to get upgraded to Darling with Debs, so we knowingly nod and continue on our venture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:50 Wait for Phil to maintain the coffee machine, fill the water tank and the beans, perhaps empty the tray&lt;br /&gt;8:55 get my triple espresso while smelling the hot chocolate that Chris is getting. Discuss the world happenings and news of his garden adventures.&lt;br /&gt;8:55:30 Ensure Chris is safely delivered to his desk, sit down till lunch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6534736143829126971?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6534736143829126971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6534736143829126971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6534736143829126971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6534736143829126971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-side-of-story.html' title='my side of the story'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2234273517559389146</id><published>2007-04-19T14:04:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T14:05:20.675+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Owl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Debs'/><title type='text'>We are Strong</title><content type='html'>X-many signs that Debbie left the company&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words such as Darling, Sweetie and Treasure are no longer heard in the office&lt;br /&gt;No more post-post-post-farewell parties at the Empire&lt;br /&gt;People drink water for lunch instead of Stella&lt;br /&gt;No cigarettes lying around&lt;br /&gt;No one makes weird alien ship sounds: Too-doo-too-doo-too-doo&lt;br /&gt;No one to sing: "We are strong"&lt;br /&gt;One less person for Rayana to spam &lt;br /&gt;No more free hugs for anyone&lt;br /&gt;No one to tear their hair out when Intranet doesn't work&lt;br /&gt;Trademe has a suddenly increased traffic and profit&lt;br /&gt;The granulated coffee rots in its bin&lt;br /&gt;No teradata mugs in the office&lt;br /&gt;Things from her desk have stopped inching towards Chris's&lt;br /&gt;No fun toys to play with, like her mailbox&lt;br /&gt;No one to book outings for the team or get everyone together&lt;br /&gt;The cubicle where she used to sit has cricket sounds&lt;br /&gt;Security guard has chased her down the street to give her a hug&lt;br /&gt;Rayana has found her tear ducts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to be someone's side kick, without a side to kick…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2234273517559389146?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2234273517559389146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2234273517559389146&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2234273517559389146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2234273517559389146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/we-are-strong.html' title='We are Strong'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5997668914315335506</id><published>2007-04-19T08:15:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T09:21:04.331+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leave'/><title type='text'>A typical morning</title><content type='html'>6:30AM : Woke up, took a shower and prepped to start another typical day.&lt;br /&gt;7:00AM : Started the slow crawl down the freeway. I pop in my Guns n' Roses disc to ease the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:50AM : "Gotta find, gotta find, gotta find a carpark."&lt;br /&gt;7:56AM : Walking down the road towards the building whistling my favourite tune "Manic Monday" - even though it's a thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:03AM : As I approach my desk, Jared - the early bird, looks me and then looks at his watch several times looking all puzzled that I came in soooo early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happen to wet the bed today, eh?" He says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting it go, I smile,  give a big sigh and say good morning &lt;del&gt; with my middle finger up in the air. &lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:04AM : Waiting for my favorite OS in the world to boot, I try to clean the clutter on my desk. I find it easier to tidy up now that it's brought back memories when I was sitting next to Debbie, with her stuff slowly inching towards my side of the forest. - LOL just kidding Debbs =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:08AM : Logging in,I start up my favourite email client and go straight to the calendar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh snap!" I say silently to myself. "Meetings for the rest of the morning. There goes my productive day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sigh and click on my inbox officially starting my cleanup routine. Looking at the sender, I slowly click and delete all the junk that came from Rayana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:12AM : Still deleting. One of these days, I'll really set an email rule up when I have the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:30AM : Naughty girl comes in looking a bit tired and with only half a smile set. (That's because she hasn't had her triple-quad-espresso shot yet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Morning!" I say with as much enthusiasm I could muster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"..." She just looks at me and puts in a decent effort for a smile. She quickly plops down on her machine and starts her morning ritual as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Geez Louise Papa Cheese." I think, she's probably more knackered than usual. Mental note : I jot down "nasty girl" as a future nickname for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:40AM : Margaret comes in and says good morning. She's sooo quiet at times that that's usually the last word you usually hear from her until lunch. But we still like her though. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:45AM : Naughty girl suddenly jumps up in hysterics and yells "Coffeeeeeeee!!! Coffeeeeeeee!!! Coffeeeeeeee!!! Coffeeeeeeee!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fall from my seat literally startled. As I lay down the floor looking at the lights my vision goes blurry and realise the noise was just my alarm clock going off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit up in bed rubbing my eyes and dawned on me that I'm on leave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5997668914315335506?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5997668914315335506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5997668914315335506&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5997668914315335506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5997668914315335506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/typical-morning.html' title='A typical morning'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3891636142500160543</id><published>2007-04-17T09:21:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T09:53:28.857+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Owl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lotion'/><title type='text'>Lotion Recipe</title><content type='html'>Ingredients:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Medium Size Dirty Cup with yesterday's leftover coffee&lt;br /&gt;1 Sink with no soap&lt;br /&gt;1 Squeeze of Lotion bottle with aloe vera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filling&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp of granulated coffee&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp of sugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spill the leftover coffee into the sink. Squeeze a drop of lotion (to taste) into the Dirty cup. Rub it in for 30 seconds, with gentle swooping movements to ensure the whole cup is covered in moisturizing lotion. Smell to ensure it smells like Aloe vera and all bacteria are drowned in moisturizer. Now rinse under cold water, add the filling and mix to ensure consistency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voila - your drink is ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Debbie's exact words were: I'd rather have lotion than bacteria… mmmmm… oh wise owl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm. We leave Debbie with her coffee wondering why it seems to have a distinct slimy aloe vera aftertaste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of minutes earlier, we caught Phil patiently waiting by the coffee machine. Phil unfortunately as we've noticed from before, has this unusual luck of having to refill the beans and/or water everytime he goes for his morning pick me up. But today seems different, with his coffee cup halfway filled, he was rubbing his hands in glee complemented with a huge grin from ear to ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the machine lets out a gurgling noise. Two beeps later, the screen says "Water Tank Empty".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!......" Phil shouts to the heavens high up above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'll let you imagine what happens next.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3891636142500160543?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3891636142500160543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3891636142500160543&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3891636142500160543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3891636142500160543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/lotion-recipe.html' title='Lotion Recipe'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-527470100242891604</id><published>2007-04-16T13:23:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:35.933+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Many many things eternal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RiMsFtlNpiI/AAAAAAAAACM/29eGktSBrdI/s1600-h/barbeque.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RiMsFtlNpiI/AAAAAAAAACM/29eGktSBrdI/s200/barbeque.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053931683486475810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Owl is back and is already pulling hairs outta her head. So if I'm sick, you know why (it's cos she keeps sneezing at me!!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's lunch has been mostly uneventful, except that Chris wasn't with us, hence uneventful. Jared has had tuna and rice again and kept talking about a massive t-bone steak he's vacuumed up his left nostril on the weekend. I think his right one had to clean the bone and the leftover fish from Kate's plate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane has had a massive piece of bread with some tuna (of cos!) in the middle, followed up by another gigantic piece of bread and kept complaining how big it was. Jared could have had two of those and wouldn't even feel it hit his stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony was unusually quiet, until someone has mentioned the word BBQ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony: "I've got a new BBQ this weekend and next week we will have a barbecue party."&lt;br /&gt;Jared suddenly awake and chewing: "BBQ? 4 burner or a 6 burner. Ouch!", as I gave him a sharp jab in the ribs.&lt;br /&gt;Tony: "Is it one of those things you turn?", mentally calculating stuff on his fingers. "one, two, three... It has three! Plus a little side thing that you can burn stuff on"&lt;br /&gt;I'm quietly eating my cold pasta salad, while giving Jared a stare: "See?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went into a whole lot of advices on how to prepare your barbie (ugh, an ugly word that kiwis have invented) for the first time use, rub some onion, then some more onion, then burn a piece of meat to give it that juice and prepare you for endless tears for when you actually do burn your meat, but of course you can always blame those tears on that onion. &lt;em&gt;Aha! Now i know what those onions is really for&lt;/em&gt;. I think Tony has managed to fit such words as "um", "uhum", "mm" into our conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We gave him a few recipes to think about over a weekend, so let's see who gets food poisoning next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Chris showed up and ruined it all by taking Tony with him to the bank. Cos who else would hold his hand while crossing the street? Or Tony is probably acting as a translator for Chris, cos he kept mumbling "someing bout he morage in de back" which sounded suspiciously close to "hemorrhage in the back" and after about 4 repeats it turned into the mortgage in the bank. So hopefully Tony knows where to take him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's back to normal now and waiting for The Owl to start preaching..., pardon, teaching me again on the wonders of flowchart in a campaign full of sh.. - sessions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please forgive me oh wise owl for being cynical, I just haven't fully enjoyed my 6 cups of espresso this morning and i promise I'd be nicer after my 3x3 espresso load.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Great Olde One is to meet with me at 4, so better be sharp as an output file.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-527470100242891604?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/527470100242891604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=527470100242891604&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/527470100242891604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/527470100242891604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/many-many-things-eternal.html' title='Many many things eternal'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/RiMsFtlNpiI/AAAAAAAAACM/29eGktSBrdI/s72-c/barbeque.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-3665349342422659244</id><published>2007-04-13T11:06:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T11:09:08.521+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Lame Owl jokes</title><content type='html'>Q: What do you call an Owl with a low voice?&lt;br /&gt;A: A Growl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What happens if an owl is taught by a wolf? &lt;br /&gt;A: It learns to howl!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What happens if an owl doesn't wash? &lt;br /&gt;A: It smells fowl!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What does an Owl with an attitude have?&lt;br /&gt;A: A Scowl!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What does an owl need after his bath? &lt;br /&gt;A: A t-owl!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why does the owl call OOOO? &lt;br /&gt;A: Because its a vowl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-3665349342422659244?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/3665349342422659244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=3665349342422659244&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3665349342422659244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/3665349342422659244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/lame-owl-jokes.html' title='Lame Owl jokes'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7829173788098893328</id><published>2007-04-13T09:53:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:36.053+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>Ramblings from The Owl's sick bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PUl-njUH9Tc/Rh6rQRQtLdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/eAPwkvLbeu4/s1600-h/owl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052664127956004306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PUl-njUH9Tc/Rh6rQRQtLdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/eAPwkvLbeu4/s320/owl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My friends - I am so sorry that I have abandoned you this miserable Friday the 13th. And no - I am not superstitious (big word like marmalade that one). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Indeed, I have a bad cold - possibly flu because I'm achy and tired too. Well of course, I could be tired because of the training with Rayloc yesterday. She is a sponge for knowledge you know. My mind was whirring at maximum velocity trying to keep her entertained and alert. At one stage I had to retreat and fill up the water cooler device fitted to my head (to avoid possible CPU overheating &amp;amp; therefore motherboard and information retrieval failure). I have realised that she is a 'kinetic learner'. She prefers to learn (like I do) with keyboard and mouse in her own hands. If not - she takes on a look much like this little owl picture I have inserted. And you thought it was a picture of a sick owl probably. Oh no - that's Rayloc after 5 minutes listening without doing!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I see she has recalled learning about hubbly bubblys, a security database so secure you can't find it and the noise associated with stories of the paranormal. The only disconcerting fact is she hasn't mentioned anything about campaign management. Still, armed with the aforesaid knowledge, I feel my job is in good hands :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh look - an email from Rayloc about giving birth to a porcupine. How intriguing (??) I'd better check it. Back in a moment.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes - pretty cute, but reminds me of Rayloc - a kind of combination of when she's bored and angry at the same time. Comments?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So possums (and bored, angry porcupine) - what's the venue for today's exciting lunch break? The sun is trying to shine way up north here after a few spells of rain. Not sure what you are experiencing there in the southern hemisphere of Auckland?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I will probably have the usual - lemsip. And maybe a small can of tuna :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love you all and miss you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Owl&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;PS: What do you call an Owl with a cold? Nothing - her ears are blocked.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;PS2: What does an Owl with a cold say? Atish-WHOO, Atish-WHOO&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ok - pretty lame, but I'm bored.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7829173788098893328?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7829173788098893328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7829173788098893328&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7829173788098893328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7829173788098893328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/ramblings-from-owls-sick-bed.html' title='Ramblings from The Owl&apos;s sick bed'/><author><name>The Owl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14053939286730422751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PUl-njUH9Tc/Rh6rQRQtLdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/eAPwkvLbeu4/s72-c/owl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-9177062754053518276</id><published>2007-04-12T15:24:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:36.211+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Owl'/><title type='text'>The wise words of The Owl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2pvtlNpZI/AAAAAAAAABE/XorDtDhODlM/s1600-h/the+owl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2pvtlNpZI/AAAAAAAAABE/XorDtDhODlM/s200/the+owl.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052380994134189458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The wise Owl has been training me today. Here's what I learnt:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbly Bubbly - the stuff you smoke when your applications start working as they should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then The Owl was showing me the security database that was so secure that you couldn't see nothin'. The Owl in her posh accent as a matter-of-factly: That's how secure it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sound one is supposed to make when people talk about ghosts, Logan, anything extra ordinary is (&lt;em&gt;ask me to demonstrate&lt;/em&gt;) Eeh-Uhh-eeh-ooh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just by showing me "the stuff" The Owl has learnt so &lt;em&gt;*beep*&lt;/em&gt;ing much about it herself. This is a kid-safe website, so some &lt;em&gt;*beep*&lt;/em&gt;ing stuff is edited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you say Taratata very loud people look at you, which could be very useful when you're in need of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing plot - the thing you do when you are extra cautious and you kick everyone out of the server and then ask them to get back on it just for the hell of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and many many more things that I cannot possibly remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-9177062754053518276?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/9177062754053518276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=9177062754053518276&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9177062754053518276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9177062754053518276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/wise-words-of-owl.html' title='The wise words of The Owl'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2pvtlNpZI/AAAAAAAAABE/XorDtDhODlM/s72-c/the+owl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1849513089955621600</id><published>2007-04-12T13:02:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:36.363+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Shooshi Train</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/Rh2RYOASN8I/AAAAAAAAABY/FT3dbtQ_nC4/s1600-h/pisa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052354202241742786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/Rh2RYOASN8I/AAAAAAAAABY/FT3dbtQ_nC4/s200/pisa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Lonely, I'm so lonely." is what I imagine Rayana was singing to herself again when she had her lunch today. Apart from the voices in her head, she did have her tuna pide to talk to during lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So how does it feel getting out of your can today, tuna?", Rayana says.&lt;br /&gt;"Would have been a whole lot better if you quit shoving me inside your mouth." The tuna answers back. "Oh, and do you mind not chewing on me when we're talking?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on our way to lunch, we did talk about how me and Margaret didn't seem to have too much tolerance to the cold weather. We both were wearing reasonably thick jackets, while Jared as usual had to strip down to his salmon shirt and say it was awfully hot. That brought about the topic of SNOW skiing as I've never tried that before - Tony suggested we plan a big thing during winter and just go for it. (A good idea, perhaps we should.) And this is where Jared mentions that he himself ski-ed one time wearing just a shirt and trousers. What an awful thought. I quickly tried to think of something else before Jared's hairy legs burned into my mind. *Chris shivers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our lunch was a quick trip to the sushi train place where your appetite is measured by the tower of plates you have in front of you. In Florence, it took 170 years to construct that magnificent tower in Pisa. Jared only took 5 minutes to construct his own version. The patrons were in awe, people actually started posing and taking photographs of this magnificent structure. Too bad they had to take it down as it was preacariously leaning toward the soy sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned a couple of new words as well. To survive in China, I made sure I knew how to order Coke - mandarin style. I checked and it seems that that drink is pretty universal and popular there so whew! Excellent! As I don't know what will happen to me if I do get deprived of my fave drink. The next step would be to learn how to order egg noodles and bbq pork, just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Chantal building a tower of her own, I had to give up on my 2 storey mall as I really was sooo full from the morning tea cakes. I must say it's embarassing to see her eat more than me. Hmmmm... maybe next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pouring just when we got back to the office to conclude our Japanese lunch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1849513089955621600?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1849513089955621600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1849513089955621600&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1849513089955621600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1849513089955621600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/shooshi-train.html' title='Shooshi Train'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8zInM3ZFtDs/Rh2RYOASN8I/AAAAAAAAABY/FT3dbtQ_nC4/s72-c/pisa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2432003798505293958</id><published>2007-04-12T12:53:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:36.863+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Team meeting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2lqNlNpXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/d5g_fxEmS4g/s1600-h/Animal_love_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2lqNlNpXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/d5g_fxEmS4g/s200/Animal_love_01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052376501598397810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are at this team meeting, right? So, there's like not enough chairs in the room, and like Chris and Jared and Debs are sitting on the floor, right?&lt;br /&gt;I, like, send a text message to Chris and instead of being a nice and quiet person, he's breaking into a soft giggle. And Debs gives me a stare, like, I know what you did last minute. and of course having Debs giving that all-knowing-stare and Chris bent double laughing during a very serious conversation about rated usage performance, what do i do? laugh! and cry at the same time. OMG!!! This rated usage stuff is sooooo funny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, ok - I read a teenager's blog during lunch and like I can't believe you can like talk this way, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2432003798505293958?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2432003798505293958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2432003798505293958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2432003798505293958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2432003798505293958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/team-meeting.html' title='Team meeting'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2lqNlNpXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/d5g_fxEmS4g/s72-c/Animal_love_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4412855859748375432</id><published>2007-04-11T17:00:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:37.031+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rich'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chopsticks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hungry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poor'/><title type='text'>Chopstick etiquette</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2qBNlNpaI/AAAAAAAAABM/nJsoWptjQso/s1600-h/250px-Chopstick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2qBNlNpaI/AAAAAAAAABM/nJsoWptjQso/s200/250px-Chopstick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052381294781900194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you put your chopsticks when you are finished? asked Chris. &lt;br /&gt;Margaret demonstrates, Chris is awed by exquisite presentation of parallel chopsticks on the side of teh plate. The waiter comes by and takes Margaret's plate away as per invisible signal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day Jared was eating with chopsticks and we realized that it's the only way to slow him down during lunch. He kept complaining about sore fingers and food hitting his stomach one molecule at a time. As a result he had pork flavoured tea, and tea flavoured pork. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't discuss much except food and food related. Something about that place never lets us go beyond food conversations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal had her dish arrive last as usual. Must be something to do with her last name starting with Z and crispy pork noodles she keeps ordering. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we also discussed how in my culture bigger women are considered to be wealthy and prosperous. So the whole way back we were looking out for rich and poor women. Jared kindly agreed to feed them hungry ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;booooring!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4412855859748375432?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4412855859748375432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4412855859748375432&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4412855859748375432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4412855859748375432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/chopstick-etiquette.html' title='Chopstick etiquette'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2qBNlNpaI/AAAAAAAAABM/nJsoWptjQso/s72-c/250px-Chopstick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8023551024981493364</id><published>2007-04-11T16:58:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:37.235+13:00</updated><title type='text'>I am most honoured</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2qTtlNpbI/AAAAAAAAABU/SURy0-jah54/s1600-h/ToonieFish2-772680.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2qTtlNpbI/AAAAAAAAABU/SURy0-jah54/s200/ToonieFish2-772680.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052381612609480114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear Rayloc&lt;br /&gt;THE OWL is so incredibly happy to have been given publishing rights to BAFL.  Indeed, I feel truly a part of the BAFL tribe now :)&lt;br /&gt;I had a toasted tuna, spinach and caramelised onion pide for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;And a small carrot cake.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have any conversations with anyone - only the ladies in the cafe who only have eyes for "Jaaaa Rid".&lt;br /&gt;Until tomorrow, yours wisely, THE OWL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8023551024981493364?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8023551024981493364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8023551024981493364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8023551024981493364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8023551024981493364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-am-most-honoured.html' title='I am most honoured'/><author><name>The Owl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14053939286730422751</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2qTtlNpbI/AAAAAAAAABU/SURy0-jah54/s72-c/ToonieFish2-772680.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4018607022231769005</id><published>2007-04-10T13:57:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:37.404+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ghosts'/><title type='text'>Ghosts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2rXtlNpcI/AAAAAAAAABc/p3JGRYv7Clk/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2rXtlNpcI/AAAAAAAAABc/p3JGRYv7Clk/s200/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052382780840584642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do i start? in which parallel universe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared said he had a nice weekend story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His family was at the marae preparing for a big par-tey and his girlfriend walked in to check some stuff out and saw an elderly woman reaching for the shelves, looking for something. Kate then says: " I don't believe we've met" and suddenly there appears a cat behind a window (Kate, cat... get it?). Kate turns to look at a cat and when she turns back (instantly!) the woman dissapears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate says none of the doors opened, the floors didn't squeak, the woman just dissapeared. Kate told Jared about it "I saw your ancestors in the marae". He described his great grandmother: "Old, short, white hair perhaps". "Yes!", exclaimed Kate, - "that's her! the woman i saw!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His family said that Kate is now accepted by the family ghost and was afraid to walk into the marae.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris's daughter would have loved to hear this amazing scary ghost story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What i don't get is why would someone look at the cat outside the window when they are walking towards a woman to say hello. But then, I never said hello to a ghost before and not sure of a proper etiquette. perhaps you have to look out of the window to give them a chance to dissapear, or simply close your eyes tightly while you walk towards them at a slow speed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shall publish some etiquette soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4018607022231769005?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4018607022231769005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4018607022231769005&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4018607022231769005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4018607022231769005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/ghosts.html' title='Ghosts'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2rXtlNpcI/AAAAAAAAABc/p3JGRYv7Clk/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8719797532582443119</id><published>2007-04-05T16:01:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:37.729+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Speed Limit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2r9dlNpdI/AAAAAAAAABk/yx7mufunvKI/s1600-h/nolimit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2r9dlNpdI/AAAAAAAAABk/yx7mufunvKI/s320/nolimit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052383429380646354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*Due to some complaints that my post was biased and inaccurate (from a lady named R...), here's the revised version.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It all started when the rest of the table were discussing restrictions on highway speed limits. And how the consensus is that in some ways it's often too restricting for it to be practical. There's no point being judgemental as &lt;del&gt;you're&lt;/del&gt; we're all guilty of breaching the government mandated requirement one way or another. But whatever reasons we have, nobody seems to be so proud of it other than Rayana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim exlains with his &lt;del&gt;luvly &lt;/del&gt; british accent : "Bloody hell Rayana, why do you always go over the limit when you drive?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt; "But nobody's on the road!" &lt;/del&gt; "It's because I was really late and I was really annoyed with the way slow people drive." Rayana says defensively &lt;del&gt;"and that's how we used to drive back in Germany. No speed limits!" &lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But that's in the autobahn. Not on regular streets. Perhaps you'll attain the wisdom of speeding when you get to be as &lt;strong&gt;old&lt;/strong&gt; as Jane", Tim says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there are about a 100 odd things that you don't guess at a woman. Here's 2 of them "You're pregnant aren't you?" and "You look great for a xx year old.". Trust me, I know. I've been burned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the table, everybody just turned silent with all eyes fixated on Jane, nervously anticipating her reaction. This has got to be one of those "Even Jane" moments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Of course, Jane, with her good nature and all took it quite well and exclaimed:"Where did that come from? You're decades older than me!!!". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whew. In all honesty, I was jumpy. My hands were poised to dial emergency services just in case Jane thinks of jumping and strangling the life out of him. hee hee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Next Chapter : Mary Poppins gives Tim some lessons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8719797532582443119?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8719797532582443119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8719797532582443119&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8719797532582443119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8719797532582443119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/speed-limit.html' title='Speed Limit'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2r9dlNpdI/AAAAAAAAABk/yx7mufunvKI/s72-c/nolimit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5171304820090297407</id><published>2007-04-04T12:39:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T12:50:55.418+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely</title><content type='html'>Lonely, I'm so lonely,&lt;br /&gt;I have nobody, for my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone else has dissappeared into the training for some stupid cubes and I'm at my desk eating lunch, talking to myself as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to Damien Rice..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody cares I'm half-a-thousand dollars poorer today after Warrant of Fitness and registration fees for my poor car. All Chris said was "I think you overpaid for tyres" and Jared's comment was no more helpful "Of course you have bold tyres, the way you drive". This is where he imitated my driving which is in no way complimenting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the exact noise he made was :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grrhrhhhr - Eeeeeeeeh - Grrhrhrrr- eeeehhhh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5171304820090297407?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5171304820090297407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5171304820090297407&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5171304820090297407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5171304820090297407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/lonely.html' title='Lonely'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-9113231870560983547</id><published>2007-04-03T13:26:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T13:27:56.688+12:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Bafling part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;(Disclaimer: I missed the first part of the conversation when I was visiting my lovely friend, Ms Vending Machine - and then realised I didn't have enough change to buy my fave drink. So back to the table I went.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is where I cut in as Rayana's written part 1 first.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I see Stephen looking passionately at Jared's lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Stephen : Hmmmm... tuna.&lt;br /&gt;Rayana : Are you wishing you brought tuna in for lunch?&lt;br /&gt;S : Huh me? No. I just love tuna. Hmmmm... tuna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris : I have some leftover spam sandwiches from yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;R : Was that in your drawer? Didn't it go bad?&lt;br /&gt;C:  Spam lasts for a long time baby.&lt;br /&gt;Stephen : I just love spam, when you chop it up into squares, wok fry it and serve it with a fried egg. (Stephen pretty much describes his favorite luncheon meat recipte)&lt;br /&gt;S : Hmmmm.... spam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R : The corned beef here is nice&lt;br /&gt;Jared : But it's 50% fat!&lt;br /&gt;S : Hmmmm... corned beef.&lt;br /&gt;S : I just love corned beef. Specially if you chop those potatoes into little squares, deep fry them in a wok and add the corned beef in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R : I'm going to eat my savoury muffin now.&lt;br /&gt;J : Try heating it up for 10 seconds, that way you get that fresh-from-the-oven taste&lt;br /&gt;(5 minutes...)&lt;br /&gt;R : You know, your advice sucks. Heating it too much just zapped the crispy muffin taste I was after!&lt;br /&gt;J : Well how long did you heat it anyway?&lt;br /&gt;R : 20 seconds&lt;br /&gt;J : After I told you to heat it for 10?&lt;br /&gt;R : Well 10 obviously didn't work, so I tried 20.&lt;br /&gt;(This is where Jared gives me that baffled look that he's never gonna understand women.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen : Hmmmm... muffin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-9113231870560983547?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/9113231870560983547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=9113231870560983547&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9113231870560983547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9113231870560983547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/im-bafling-part-2.html' title='I&apos;m Bafling part 2'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-8225052112052546375</id><published>2007-04-03T13:07:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:37.932+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chris'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Why everybody hates Chris</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2pFdlNpYI/AAAAAAAAAA8/V3xcGurscNc/s1600-h/hate+chris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2pFdlNpYI/AAAAAAAAAA8/V3xcGurscNc/s200/hate+chris.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052380268284716418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's skinny. And I don't mean it in a nice way. He's not skinny cos he's trying hard. He's just skinny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He eats Tim Tams for breakfast. Every breakfast. And he drinks Hot chocolate for breakfast, because Tim Tams are too sweet for him and he needs to finish with something less sweet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he doesn't have Tim Tams, he doesn't get his 400 Calories and 200 grams of sugar, he eats baked pies and/or other fat-induced-sugar-hit-food and he ALWAYS has a bar of chocolate in his cabinet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he doesn't he always has a bar of chocolate in my cabinet. Urgh! Don't get me started Chris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it go to his thighs????? Nooooooo. He just drinks a regular Coke every day to flush it out his system with renewed sugar. This is not even counting what he eats and drinks for lunch and snacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any whoooo...... This is why we hate him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared got a sticker on his machine: "Do not feed. On Presciption Diet". I don't even need a sticker, people just KNOW not to feed me, I'll get it myself, thank you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you sense anger? Pfff!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-8225052112052546375?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/8225052112052546375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=8225052112052546375&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8225052112052546375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/8225052112052546375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/why-everybody-hates-chris.html' title='Why everybody hates Chris'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2pFdlNpYI/AAAAAAAAAA8/V3xcGurscNc/s72-c/hate+chris.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-4304926621041872187</id><published>2007-04-03T12:59:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T13:07:32.638+12:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm bafling</title><content type='html'>Did you baffle this morning? i ask Chris. &lt;br /&gt;No, are you baffling?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I might.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen joined us today or rather we joined him. Jared had brought 2 tiny cans of tuna for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen: Why do you have 2 small cans of tuna. You know, if you get 1 larger can, it's cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Why do you have to analyze everything?&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: It's just the large can of tuna costs the same as the small one.&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Well, sometimes I just don't feel like eating a large one.&lt;br /&gt;Stephen: But it's so much cheaper and better.&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: Why can't you just buy small AND large cans for any occasion?&lt;br /&gt;That's when Jared asked us to: Zip! Didn't work on Stephen though. He kept talking about how good tuna is on salads and sandwiches, and salads with sandwiches, and without sandwiches and salads. It took him about 10 minutes to get tuna salad sandwich recipes out. That's when Chris took out his can of tuna that was a different kind to the two Jared had and we started again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that bland tuna in water tastes like water? and did you know that the one Chris had didn't? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, this lunch i had no tuna. Perhaps, tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-4304926621041872187?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/4304926621041872187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=4304926621041872187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4304926621041872187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/4304926621041872187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/im-bafling.html' title='I&apos;m bafling'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-9135144460408402486</id><published>2007-04-02T16:55:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:38.078+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feng Shui'/><title type='text'>Feng Shui or no Feng Shui that is the question</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2sdNlNpeI/AAAAAAAAABs/o1c5JKtKgnA/s1600-h/feng+shui.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2sdNlNpeI/AAAAAAAAABs/o1c5JKtKgnA/s200/feng+shui.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052383974841492962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's discussion has been long and heated. Forgot how it started. Something to do with Margaret going on her OE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michelle: So Margaret, counting down the days?&lt;br /&gt;Margaret: Khe-khe-khe, yeeh.&lt;br /&gt;Chris or Tony or someone else: you are going to get engaged and wouldn't want to return at all.&lt;br /&gt;Margaret: Yeah, possible. But don't worry, I will let you know immediately to avoid rumours spreading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(*obviously she's refering to me spreading rumours about Jenita's engagament in AU. But I was just trying to fool Jared into thinking he's not important enough to hear such news)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rayana: Well, we still expect cake to be sent here to celebrate your engagement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Margaret: I gotta marry a rich person to be able to afford that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michele obviously took that way too seriously: No, you can't marry a rich person. You'll be bored! Imagine not having to work, everyone you know is working and you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmmm-mmmmm... sounds of me imagining....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 minutes later snapped back to reality and the conversation is still on about what people do when they don't work. I remembered my ex-boss' wife has not been working, while i have been a slave for her husband's company. She's been so bored that she practically hired a personal Feng Shui designer to re-design the office and make sure everyone is turned exactly X number of degrees to the positive flow of Chi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ex-boss's wife: Rayana! You cannot sit on that chair!&lt;br /&gt;Rayana jumps from deep concentration on work: Why not?&lt;br /&gt;Ex-boss's wife: It's RED! You cannot have a red chair in this office!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dumbly look at the deep red, very comfortable chair I snuck from the main area to replace my yucky purple chair with no handles: Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ex-boss's wife: Because it's creates a negative energy flow that bounces back this red chair into the room where we've got purple chair, crawls through the plants that cannot be watered too often, because Chi wants to live there and it gets too wet for her 8 feet, etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is nothing. I told how we were forced to have lead blocks next to us, cos we sat next to windows and god forbid we move them 3 inches to the left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's where conversation has got heated. Opening windows to let the spirit of air in, closing windows cos your bum freezes, hanging beads, hanging on beads, hanging yourself with beads. You name it, we discussed it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the main point was for Margaret to avoid the engagement conversation. Rumour has it, she's going to UK to meet someone!!! Shhh---shhhh... don't tell anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-9135144460408402486?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/9135144460408402486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=9135144460408402486&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9135144460408402486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/9135144460408402486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/04/feng-shui-or-no-feng-shui-that-is.html' title='Feng Shui or no Feng Shui that is the question'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2sdNlNpeI/AAAAAAAAABs/o1c5JKtKgnA/s72-c/feng+shui.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-990273410540624246</id><published>2007-03-29T18:22:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:38.261+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2s7NlNpfI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_oZ7i-6oEuw/s1600-h/rain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2s7NlNpfI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_oZ7i-6oEuw/s200/rain.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052384490237568498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreadful weather. But the lunch turnout was pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch was about discussing Mark's farewell lunch, how Margaret happened to have a gorgeous prepared meal (*hint:her sisters here!), how Rayana's name is not her real name (you've defintely got to ask her. *hint:Witness Protection), how Jared likes to wash the dishes while the 'neighbours' clean their car (*hint:his neighbours occupation involves climbing poles at night time), how Tony was pretty quiet during the course of the entire meal (*hint:probably thinking how many chicks he's gonna score for his next gig. the last one wasn't very promising as all the chicks were either married, taken, or your co-worker. We're still deliberating if Rayana's a chick or not.), how David was goingon about this super duper cool boss Marvin (not his real name - to protect his identity) and how I'm thinking I'll survive from hypothermia without my trusty jacket on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-990273410540624246?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/990273410540624246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=990273410540624246&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/990273410540624246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/990273410540624246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/rain.html' title='Rain.'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2s7NlNpfI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_oZ7i-6oEuw/s72-c/rain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1844739092597611623</id><published>2007-03-19T15:20:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T15:12:28.226+12:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='txt'/><title type='text'>Go figure...</title><content type='html'>Just Jared and me for lunch. Looking around the table, he mentions that nobody goes for a proper lunch anymore from Mondays to Thursdays. "Yeah, where is everybody?" I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Jenita's back in oz schmoozing with her bf. And who is that girl with a skirt on? Is that Margaret? I was too far away to tell if it's her, I'll check later. =). And Only saw a glimpse of Tony peeking through the cubicle - as everybody's practically busy - a typical Monday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rayana's apparently on a 'workshop', or so she says. When I snuck a look at her notes, all I saw were illegible words and scribbles and that odd poem of hers. (Rhyming words only count if they appear in the dictionary, Rayloc!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared and I politely txted her to join us for lunch but just brushed us off with a resounding "Nah!". Ouch. Which practically felt like the slap you hear when you just get bitten by an persistent mozzie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annoyed, we txted back "We we don't need you anyway!"&lt;br /&gt;Which pretty much started this texting debacle.&lt;br /&gt;C : Well we don’t need you anyway!&lt;br /&gt;R : But u wanted. Want is diff 2 need&lt;br /&gt;R : Don’t argue&lt;br /&gt;(Was about to send another message when…)&lt;br /&gt;R : I heard that&lt;br /&gt;(Is this lady psychic or what? Surely she can't hear through walls or even across 3 floors!)&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;C : We know you don't hang around developers anymore… (trying the "make-her-feel-guilty" approach)&lt;br /&gt;R : *Sobs uncontrollably&lt;br /&gt;(ha! looks like it worked!)&lt;br /&gt;R : I'm so over you guys.&lt;br /&gt;(okay, no it didn't)&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;C : You can't be over us. Like you can't get over coffee.&lt;br /&gt;R : *she snaps. Grabs chris by his ears and throws him outta window&lt;br /&gt;C : Okay okay. I give up Chris sez as he dangles by the window.&lt;br /&gt;R : High self esteem huh, we'll fix that&lt;br /&gt;C : Imagine what my self esteem is when you're around. It's high today coz you're away.&lt;br /&gt;R : Fine. Not talkin 2 u for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;(followed by 20+ blank messages for the next couple of minutes.Talk about thee silent treatment.)&lt;br /&gt;(figure that out, we're the ones inviting people for lunch and we gentlemen turn out to be the bad guys.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 hours later and she's still not talking to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1844739092597611623?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1844739092597611623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1844739092597611623&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1844739092597611623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1844739092597611623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/go-figure.html' title='Go figure...'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-5964495924209341892</id><published>2007-03-16T15:47:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T16:02:15.079+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Imagine this</title><content type='html'>Jared running down the street - Mitch of Baywatch. Girls stopping, hearts stopping, mouths drooling. Personally, I think he might look like a helium baloon with two legs if he exercises even more, but that's just me - the fat fondler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out for lunch to BBQ King today, the Hong Kong-ian restaurant where they feed you till death do you apart. The portion sizes were extraordinary (yes, Telecom! it's not like you own the phrase!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe, Jared, breathe - they do have forks here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared, being on the diet and all, vacuumed his plate in three seconds. The first two suspiciously eyeing the plate and grabbing the fork. Margaret ate her lunch and was gone before you could say: I'd like to have crispy pork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony held on to his fringe while slurping the noodles in his soup and getting pinker by the minute. Jared was long done before Tony realized his hair had more of his noodles than his stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drowned my rice in Hoisin sauce and tried to save them one by one with Chris, pardon, chopsticks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chantal and Chris sat there waiting for their meal to arrive and we tried to keep solidarity by stuffing ourselves with food and making sure to produce sufficient sounds so they know how delicious their dishes would be when they arrived in 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation never got further than whose pork was crispier and how fast can Jared eat. Even on our way back when we saw the construction workers digging a ginormous hole in the road, all we could think of was Hangi - Thanks to Jared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Not even Uh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-5964495924209341892?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/5964495924209341892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=5964495924209341892&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5964495924209341892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/5964495924209341892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/imagine-this.html' title='Imagine this'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-2189384971037096366</id><published>2007-03-09T14:12:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:38.547+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Hannibal goes out for the day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2taNlNpgI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xl7LlfSidd4/s1600-h/menu_main.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2taNlNpgI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xl7LlfSidd4/s200/menu_main.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052385022813513218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I honestly cant think how this topic came to be. I remember us talking about burgers, recycling, then whales, then greenpeace, then them crazy japanese whale experiments, then how the big whales are fast becoming extinct, then pork, then how animals or humans were born to be eaten. Which had us all thinking what kind of food we were to be if we were part of the basic food group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bonjour Monsieur Lecter, welcome to Pierre's? How may I help?"&lt;br /&gt;"What can I expect to eat today Gaston?"&lt;br /&gt;"We could start off with a marvelous breakfast with Tony and Margaret monsieur."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd see Tony as a part of the all day breakfast meals that you serve down at the pub. 2 fried eggs, fresh tomatoes, hasbrowns, bacon and Tony. Yeah, I think Tony would be more tastier when fried. Margaret would be a nice soup base for noodles. I'm sure simmering her in in hot water would bring out that yummy aromatic stock flavour she absorbed from her cup noodle marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For lunch, we're serving our magnifique Jared stew with baguettes on the side."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll probably use lots of tomato sauce, potatoes, onion. We need to stew him at a minimum of 5 hours just so his tough muscles becomes tender enough to be enjoyed. Don't forget to shave him thoroughly before you plop him in that slow cooker though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dinner would be from an an exotique part of eurasia. The Abercrombie Roast and pasta, served with chilled red wine on the side"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rayana would be great for supper. I think she'd come out well baked for an hour (longer if you could still hear her chatting away). You need to marinade her in wine and rosemary overnight though just to release that bubbly nature of hers. Bubbles always gives me gas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've excluded Stephen and myself. Just imagine eating spare ribs without the meat, wouldn't be a good deal would it?. Tony suggested I could be the toothpick. Hmmm. "You want me to clean your teeth for you, sir?" Actually, Stephen and I would make a great pair, if you want to use chopsticks that is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now all this talk about food just got me hungry again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-2189384971037096366?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/2189384971037096366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=2189384971037096366&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2189384971037096366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/2189384971037096366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/hannibal-goes-out-for-day.html' title='Hannibal goes out for the day...'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2taNlNpgI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xl7LlfSidd4/s72-c/menu_main.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1706564253649027858</id><published>2007-03-09T08:54:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T09:01:51.458+13:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memoriam...</title><content type='html'>To those people who don't know (or don't even care) I mourn the passing of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_America"&gt;Steve Rogers&lt;/a&gt; who served as an inspiration through our turbulent years. A real hero in essence and someone definitely to aspire to. I wish you well on your journey Steve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is there beyond the silent night, an endless day?&lt;br /&gt;  Is death a door that leads to light? We cannot say."&lt;br /&gt;--- Declaration of the free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1706564253649027858?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1706564253649027858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1706564253649027858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1706564253649027858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1706564253649027858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/in-memoriam.html' title='In Memoriam...'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-154341441096155592</id><published>2007-03-08T15:19:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T15:55:19.061+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Who wears the pants at home?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yup, it was up to Jared and me to stimulate the sushi economy today as Rayana's gone out with her (back-from-the-dead) friend and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Adele, whom we invited, blew us off to eat the ham sandwich her husband made. Which led to Jared making a good point that men seem to do all the cooking nowadays (or the better cooking) against our counterparts. Then again, I'm not surprised, this has been the trend for quite sometime, ever since those women took their placards to the street back in the 70's and demanded equality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I, for one, don’t have any problems with this. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a female president/prime minister around? A woman president who won't make nuclear weapons - just weapons that will make you feel bad for a while. And there would never be any wars! - just severe negotiations every 26 days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Jared also mentioned that apart from cooking, he also does the dishes at home, the ironing, washing the clothes, cleaning, and has the car checked out in the garage. Looks like we now know who's running the show back home, eh? But that's fine right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-154341441096155592?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/154341441096155592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=154341441096155592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/154341441096155592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/154341441096155592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/who-wears-pants-at-home.html' title='Who wears the pants at home?'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-7334655418815544829</id><published>2007-03-06T11:32:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T11:38:00.376+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trivia'/><title type='text'>For songsters</title><content type='html'>Here is a nice variation on trivia questioning - they give one lyric line and you have to say what the extremely well known song is :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pages.prodigy.net/macknife13/70slyric.htm"&gt;http://pages.prodigy.net/macknife13/70slyric.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it is 1970's lyrics but hey these songs play all the time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-7334655418815544829?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/7334655418815544829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=7334655418815544829&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7334655418815544829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/7334655418815544829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/for-songsters.html' title='For songsters'/><author><name>Mart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517135020103914517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-1990243730686771525</id><published>2007-03-01T11:13:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T11:28:18.936+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheerleaders</title><content type='html'>There was an unusual vibe in the air this morning. The cheerleaders were supposed to arrive at 11:00 am sharp to present us with many fancy moves of you know what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared jumped up at exactly 10:57 and ran towards my desk, which isn't very far: are you going?&lt;br /&gt;* me with a blank  expression: where?&lt;br /&gt;Jared: Didn't you see downstairs? Cheerleaders are performing at 11:00?&lt;br /&gt;Looking at my watch, the conversation was very fast and the above didn't take longer than a minute: but it's only 10:58 - are you sure you want to seem that desperate as to go there 1 minute before? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could see his face going grey: ok, we can wait another 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave up, after all it's not fair that Mark is probably sitting in the foyer since morning and panting, waiting for cheerleaders to arrive and Jared is stuck upstairs with me. We went downstairs and as we left the elevator Mark jumped out of the door, energy bursting out of all pores, eyes everywhere, looking, seeking and not finding. Poor Mark. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we had to wait the whole 2.5 minutes before the girls came out of elevators and I could see his neck extend. I've never seen a giraffe before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Jared! THE Jared that wanted to come downstairs the whole minute earlier puffs: I've seen better! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had more fun than he did, the girls WERE pretty. And there were so many cameras on them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the performance the underaged went round talking to the people, so we decided to go back up - show's over... But nooooo, not for Mark - for him it's only just starting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we went inside, Debbie and I, we saw him standing in the middle of the hall, enchanted by one of the red heads. I slowly fell to the floor of the elevator while Debbie started making weird noises. I knew she needed my help, but i couldn't lift myself off the floor. Who can blame him? He waited for this moment for so long... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story? There's none. This is just for those who have missed it. He's probably still there, making dreamy eyes at that redhead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-1990243730686771525?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/1990243730686771525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=1990243730686771525&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1990243730686771525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/1990243730686771525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/03/cheerleaders.html' title='Cheerleaders'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-103745298578021493</id><published>2007-02-28T20:44:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:38.752+13:00</updated><title type='text'>She left</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2uEdlNphI/AAAAAAAAACE/6NB0v4l8Fvk/s1600-h/tears.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2uEdlNphI/AAAAAAAAACE/6NB0v4l8Fvk/s200/tears.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052385748662986258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did. Jared was very amused and told me: I didn't know you even had tear ducts. &lt;br /&gt;*Bastard! :)&lt;br /&gt;Have you tried googling her? Try it... full with her last name. You could see her life and her boyfriend and friends as you have never seen them before. Jenita!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's strange is that you don't know a person for such a long time and yet you get so bloody attached to them. You try to keep your space, cos you know it's not for long and it won't last, but it doesn't bloody help, does it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any whoo.... I love your photos and your friendster Jenita! and I really do hope you keep in touch, as it's a rare thing in this world to meet people you really wanted to know... I hate to admit - just like our lunch bunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Dumbo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-103745298578021493?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/103745298578021493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=103745298578021493&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/103745298578021493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/103745298578021493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/02/she-left.html' title='She left'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_94svKlOvWeI/Rh2uEdlNphI/AAAAAAAAACE/6NB0v4l8Fvk/s72-c/tears.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-416749426017217296</id><published>2007-02-28T10:03:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T10:06:56.192+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Farewell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bye'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jenita'/><title type='text'>Don't cry for us Je-e-nita!!!!!</title><content type='html'>It won't be easy, you'll think it strange&lt;br /&gt;When we try to explain how we feel&lt;br /&gt;That we still need your love after all that we've done&lt;br /&gt;You won't believe us&lt;br /&gt;All you will see is a bunch you once knew&lt;br /&gt;Although dressed up to the nines&lt;br /&gt;At sixes and sevens with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to let it happen, we had to change&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't stay all our lives down at heel&lt;br /&gt;Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun&lt;br /&gt;So you chose freedom&lt;br /&gt;Running around, trying everything new&lt;br /&gt;But nothing impressed you at all&lt;br /&gt;We never expected it to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't cry for us Je-e-nita!&lt;br /&gt;The truth is you never left us&lt;br /&gt;All through our wild days&lt;br /&gt;Our mad existence&lt;br /&gt;We kept our promise&lt;br /&gt;Don't keep your distance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for fortune, and as for fame&lt;br /&gt;We never invited them in&lt;br /&gt;Though it seems to the world they were all we desired&lt;br /&gt;They are illusions&lt;br /&gt;They're not the solutions they promised to be&lt;br /&gt;The answer was here all the time&lt;br /&gt;We love you and hope you love us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't cry for me Je-e-nita!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't cry for us Je-e-nita!&lt;br /&gt;The truth is you never left us&lt;br /&gt;All through our wild days&lt;br /&gt;Our mad existence&lt;br /&gt;We kept our promise&lt;br /&gt;Don't keep your distance&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-416749426017217296?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/416749426017217296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=416749426017217296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/416749426017217296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/416749426017217296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/02/dont-cry-for-us-je-e-nita.html' title='Don&apos;t cry for us Je-e-nita!!!!!'/><author><name>Rayloc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02783187138707850645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38765154.post-6526005111164344999</id><published>2007-02-28T07:46:00.000+13:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T10:47:33.749+13:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Farewell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bye'/><title type='text'>Top  Fifteen Signs that Jenita's finally left NZ</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;15. No more Indonesian food&lt;br /&gt;14. Mark doesn't spend as much time on the 3rd floor anymore ;P&lt;br /&gt;13. One less pair of Converse around the office.&lt;br /&gt;12. You actually see some salads left over in the cafe.&lt;br /&gt;11. You don't hear the latest update from "Heroes"&lt;br /&gt;10. You don't hear anybody saying " It's soooooo cheap living in Auckland. "&lt;br /&gt;9. No more meaningful t-shirts every day&lt;br /&gt;8. Losing their "Most Valuable Customer", Air NZ decides to file for bankruptcy.&lt;br /&gt;7. You don't see a girl run as if she is 'hopping' (yes, Jenita hops when she runs :P)&lt;br /&gt;6. No more emails from admin saying : "We would appreciate your help by not running non-essential queries against the Production environments this afternoon."&lt;br /&gt;5. No one working till 9:00pm in the office&lt;br /&gt;4. Used up all the restaurants in Auckland for her farewells&lt;br /&gt;3. No more emails with links to the nearest pubs&lt;br /&gt;2. More beer left over at Tony's house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND (*drumroll...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;One less party girl around town!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;(PS This isn't entirely my idea as Margaret and Rayana also contributed.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38765154-6526005111164344999?l=bafl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/feeds/6526005111164344999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38765154&amp;postID=6526005111164344999&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6526005111164344999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38765154/posts/default/6526005111164344999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bafl.blogspot.com/2007/02/top-fifteen-signs-that-jenitas-finally.html' title='Top  Fifteen Signs that Jenita&apos;s finally left NZ'/><author><name>mrGlass</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16165441044059560101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
