Well, this weekend sees the start of a succession of very big weekends. On Saturday from 1pm til 8am we will be off to Gatecrasher. This should be excellent. Then the following weekend is Homebake. Excellent, bring it on, you have got to love Christmas time.

Ok, lets set the scene, sometime between the hours of 3am and 5 am Friday morning at the Sydney Star casino. Three friends have been out all night and deceide that this is the place to be. There is the remnants of a year 12 formal happening - ahhh those were the days - with the girl trying to bet away her last $100 and little Johnny trying to stop her from spending all her money.

Now seeing as we are older, like 30 and more mature, should we do the right thing and say - hey there, don't you think you should be saving those pennies for a rainy day? Or, hassle her to come back and spend more? Well of course we chose the hassle her to spend more. Once I realised everything she she was betting on was losing, I just bet opposite. Then what happens, little Johnny goodie two shoes comes over and and drags her away. To the yells from us of - leave her be, she's having fun, let her bet. Good lord! anyway, we bet on, came out even. I think she lost all her money, but seeing it was probably daddies then all is good in the world. If it wasn't daddies money then I'm sure she learnt a valuable lesson. - Don't trust those older weird people at casinos at 3:00 in the morning.

Well, well, well. It has been weeks since the last update on this site. Does this mean we will be never again updating it? Or does it mean that real life (TM) has actually been that completely nuts that we just haven't had time to update. Yes we have been partying way too hard.

Conquer Obscurity
Obscurity, darkness, gloom…turn on a light and dare to be bold!

Not being a big person on sayings, but this one did catch my eye.

Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.

It is all good.

Birthdays Suck!
Well they don't really, but certain things about them suck. Lets have an example. Having a birthday around christmas time. Try and book a place in the city, just a small place back of a pub or some such for a few close friends. How hard is it? Either it costs a fortune due to everyone wanting a christamas party or it is booked. I mean seriously how can a place charge $300 to hire a room BUT you then MUST spend $3,000 on food and alcohol. That is nuts. so if any of our avid readers know a good place for a bash, the drop me an email. Oh, so you want more reasons why birthdays suck? Well ask yourself this. Do you ever get what you want? Unless you buy it yourself...NO! Ok enough of the birthday thing. I will be happy once I'm drunk+ with a room full of people off the street.

Once you feel you have completed enough research, you can test just how much you really know by taking the trivia quiz. This is an excellent way to prepare for that special party.

It is important to be well researched. More trivia can be found here.

Pointless Trivia
All this talk of Christmas Parties, I have a few tips on how to impress your associates and friends at the next function!

Why not wow them, with your endless banter on useless trivia. If you lack social skills and rarely find a way to contribute to a conversation then having a couple of useless trivia points up your sleeve may well be your only answer! Knowing these useless facts will make you a more stimulating conservationist and also ensure you are the belle of the ball.

Here is an example to get you started:
According to Nielson Media Research, the average person watches television about 4 hours per day – or, more precisely, 27 hours and 53 minutes a week.

The more snippets of trivia you learn, the more conversations you can participate in. Not only will you look worldly you will also project intelligence.

More useless information can be found here.

Derwent Saves The Work Christmas Party
Exactly what we need! People like Derwent who are willing to take the bull by the horns. If you are unhappy with the Christmas shindig being organised by your corporation, then cry MUTINY and organise your own.

Can you imagine a company that makes contractors pay their own way for attending the staff Christmas party? I'm talking about full time contractors who have probably worked longer hours than most of the full time employees, have probably had less holidays than full time employees and yet they have to pay to attend the christmas party. That is it!!! I'm having my own Party and everyone is invited. By the way, the same company also makes Employees bring their own stationary to work, oh did I mention which company I'm talking about?

Phobia - What do you fear?
An irrational fear that causes one to feel intense anxiety is the best way to describe a phobia. Most of us are scared of at least one thing, whether it is spiders, darkness or flying. Some people react to phobias with a fairly mild response, while others can be tormented by the fear they posses for a certain situation, article or object.

Imagine being so fearful of sleeping that you were unable to close your eyes, or so afraid of water you were unable to shower. Although rare, some people live with this immense feeling of fear everyday.

Man, there are some stupid fears though. My favourite would be Geniophobia , the fear of chins. What is to be afraid of? Oh no, a big bad chin is coming to get me. To me that is just strange.

Ok, want a laugh, then check this out. Thanks Pip. To get best results, pass it to at least 6 people in your office and have them all play it loudly at the same time.

Excellent, shame I can't swim without Floaties(tm)! How about having a look around Sydney harbour by using the Sydney Harbour webcam. You even get to control the thing. Today it looks great with rain all over it...You think they would have a little umbrella to stop the rain...oh well.

With the Internet it is even easier to find "THE wave'. It used to be a matter of throwing all your gear into the car, driving around your favourite spots until you found something decent. Now just go here and read today's reports and make your selection!

A festering septic sea ulcer
Have you ever had a simple sore that turned nasty? A small scratch that genetically reconstructed to become a whopping great wound, seeping pus, and fungus that is just plain disgusting.

It was the summer of 1992 and it was hot. Well probably not that hot, but warmish. I was spending a lot of time touring the beaches of NSW with some fellow advocates of beach living; together we searched for that ever-alluring perfect wave.

Unfortunately, we weren’t on this quest alone. This made the beaches full of surfers all attempting to catch ‘THE wave’. On the day of the wound I was using a new board and I was a tad sun-stroked from the day before…so a combination of tomfoolery and just a lack of skill meant I took a dumping of sheer proportions! Jostling for a position on ‘THE wave’, fighting drop-ins and kooks I managed to plunge head first into a sandbank, scoring a mouth full of sand and receiving a small yet innocent looking scratch on my leg.

In a week this small scratch had turned into the festering septic sea ulcer from hell. There was pus, and scabbing and well it was just plain filth. Six weeks it took for this feral wound to heal, six weeks of salt bathing and antiseptic creams, dressings and antibiotic shots. It managed to completely stuff up my plans for summer, as I wasn’t allowed to get it wet or sunburnt.

My advice, beware of the small yet innocent sore; you never know when it might turn nasty on you.

Hairytongue.com
A credit to society. People that develop sites like this deserve to win Internet awards. It isn't the fancy schmanzy Internet sites across the web that provide us with entertainment. It is obscure little site you come across in the wee hours of the working day - that you just can’t help smirking at...these my fellow web friends are the quiet achievers.

Sob’r-K! Every drinker’s fantasy?

Hair of the Dog
I am yet to find a quick fix to a hang over, and it isn’t because of my lack of trying. I’ve spent years and hundreds (if not thousands) of dollars investigating the causes of the hang over, in a hope to find the critical cure.

My research is inconclusive, so boldly my research must go on.

Maggie and her breasts!
Thanks heaps Maggie for sending me a photo of your breasts. I think they are perfect. What is it they say, more than a hand full is a waste? Or was that mouth full? Either way I see absolutely no need to get them fixed up. As per your request, I won't post the photo on the site, well maybe later when we are looking for some cheap hits!

I just got this in one of those spam emails from friends you never hear from. Guys, all is actually good in the world!

"According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful."

Comments are back, so feel free to umm...comment.

I think that it may be a little quiet here today as we had a big one last night...Nothing like free alcohol, a great big plasma screen and an Xbox to keep you up all night. Jump and Duck...Jump and Duck...Jump and Duck...GOLD!

The Office Bash
You’ve made it through the year without too much of a blunder and then you take all your clothes off and vomit on the MD.

The mixture of greasy finger food, too much wine and the fact that it is all payed for by the company tends to go to our heads. We are warned, pace yourself, behave…. but it never seems to work out that way.

One of my better office bash disasters…well probably not my best, but most memorable.
Having recently started with the company (my first week), I was invited by my new peers, to share a few refreshing light ales at the local drinking establishment. Well my couple turned into a good few too many and after much slurring and complimenting (I think you’re a top bloke…I don’t really know you but your pretty tops), I was tanked. Not just tipsy, I was shit-faced.

After stumbling around in the beer garden for a bit, I took a stumble for the worse and managed to crack my head open on the pavement. Being the trooper I am, I told everyone that it was just a small scratch (as the blood poured from my head), and kicked on!

Finally in the early hours of the morning, namely 5.00am, I decided my first company drinks night was over and I should think about going home. On arriving home, with a nasty headache I might add, I realised the nasty scratch was a little more serious and ventured to the hospital. Still being pissed (and pointing a lot) I had to wait about 4 hours to sober up a bit before the doctor proceeded to shave my head and place 10 stitches in the wound.

Monday morning at work, getting coffee. People are casually asking each other how the weekend was. People turn to ask me, see the shaved head, nasty wound and skulk away.

My problem wasn’t so much the wound, or the drinking – it was the fact that I had to top that at the week two drinks. I just wasn’t up to the challenge.

Office Romance.
It is all fun and games until someone shouts sexual harassment.

Most of us at some time have dabbled in the office romance. Secret rendezvous at the photocopier, eyelash flutters across a meeting table and lunch after lunch after lunch. It is all so wonderful; you get to spend every second of everyday together. At work you are together, on the weekends you are together, in the afternoon you are together…. and then it all turns sour.

Now your work place becomes a battleground, colleagues take sides, work becomes difficult and it causes you extra stress and pressure that you just don’t need. You loath the 2.30pm meeting with Pamela or Michael and you just know that the office gossip is all about YOU!

What should you do? There really is no simple answer.
In my experience (and there hasn’t been many), it is better to say nothing; you don’t know who your allies are in the office minefield of gossip. The person who says the most usually ends up looking the worst. Mind your business and get back to work.

A challenge?

Indeed those were the days. Giving a bit away here, but I remember when I could light up at my desk, place the ciggy in the ashtray and walk away from my desk to let the smoke gently woft over the others in my office. Excellent! Now what do I have to do? The smoker ettiquette. Check with the other 2 remaining smokers in the office if they would like to go for a smoke, (If you don't you get the...oh gee thanks for asking me for a smoke!), check that someone has a security pass to get back in. Stand out in the rain dodging the guy who is sweeping up the butts. Why we dodge him I don't know because we keep him in a job, so really he should look happy about it.

On my desk, I have a hands free phone with number display. Like I'm going to answer the phone if I know who it is? Flick it to voice mail...bring it on. I remember when people used to answer other people phones. Now they just forward it to their voice mail or mobile phone. When someone leaves ie retrenched, sacked, long holiday etc, the mad scramble for their staionary begins, if you are lucky, just after they have left for the pub, their chair is gone. If unlucky, someone has moved into their pod. Or, my favourite, when a new person starts and someone sets up the new pc and staionary for them, in a kind on welcoming way. Everyone dives on it. Highligters go flying, new before unseen pens (probably blue ones) disappear. When the new person starts they think, man this place is crap, no stationary and why do I have this PC from 1984?

Office Evolution
When you think about it the 50’s were really the era to be working in an office. For starters, you could smoke at your desk, you could call a fine-looking secretary sweet cakes and everyone had time for lunch. Offices shut at 5pm on the dot, and overtime was paid! There were Company picnics, extra holidays and the absence of crashing networks! No email, no voicemail and no fax machines.
What the hell did everyone do?

Office gossip. GOOD LORD! Welcome to "BIG CORPORATION X" where I work. (the names have been changed in the following to protect the guilty. Some people have said I have a trusting face, but people, that does not mean that I want to hear every little tid bit of office gossip.

Monday morning: I stumble out of the elevator, swipe the card, flop into my pod. The prairie dogging starts.

Prairie dog head 1pops up.
How was your weekend Derwent?
D: "yeah great, and yours?"
PDH1: Well, on Friday night at 5:00 I went for drinks with X,Y and Z from here, but did you hear that A is shagging B in the lift well?
D: "Right, can you sit down and shut up please for the love of god, I don't care!"
PDH1: Head disappears.

Prairie dog head 2 pops up.
To PDH1 says: "Yeah I knew A was with B, I could tell because they both had lunch together at least three times."

Prairie dog head 3 pops up.
Sit the F$%^# down will you!!!

At 11:00 I get up for a coffee.
Prairie dog head 5 pops up.
PDH5: Hey Derwent, can I buy you a offee with my Melbourne cup winnings and tell you all about what happened last night with V, B & C at the pub?
D: "do you deliver?"
PDH5: No.
D: "well no then, bugger off and leave me alone!"

I am here to do my job and there are some people, really great people who have become friends who I would go and have a beer or coffee with, but hey in the main I am stuck in this office with you for at least 8 hours a day, leave me alone, let me do my job and you do yours, I don't want to know who ate the last of the Gummi Bears out of the vending machine or who didn't put the dish washer on, or god help me that H printed out their entire mail box which was 8,000 pages and would have killed at least a small forest of gum trees.

Coffee Scuttle
Every working morning my strong addiction forces me to take the long walk through two security doors to the other end of my building to conjure up some really bad, but still necessary black coffee. Normally, I like to take this time to organise my day, staring into nothing I think about everything that I’m not going to do – but really should.

This morning however, the pseudo glamour girls bombarded me. Chatter, chatter, and chatter in a Dolby Pro Logic Surround Sound kind of effect. All 5 of them talking at once not really listening to the other. Comments like “I know”, “Really, I don’t believe it” and “I don’t care what he says, that skirt looks great on you”.

I got the death stare, which I promptly returned with a loud uncovered mouth cough, which was then followed by yet another death stare from the group.

They continued with their tedious conversation about the latest fashion, which was dating whom in the office and comparing the intelligence file already collected on the poor unsuspecting fellow that started with the company yesterday.

On, and on they went.
Once the coffee was poured, altogether the scurried back to their POD existence to begin counting the minutes until they could once again chatter away about NOTHING.

The dodgy site that we use for comments seems to have stuffed up somehow so the page comes up slowly and with some errors.. Seeing we have hundreds of people commenting...ahahah NOT! I might talk to our web developer about removing them for the moment. If you would like to say anything to us, use the guestbook or email us.

Date: Mon, 5 Nov 2001 19:57:20 -0800 (PST)
From: "Maggie Lowe"
Subject: Ask Derwent
To: derwent_banyon@yahoo.com

I was wondering what you think about women who have
had their breats enlarged? I am 18 and am thinking
about having mine done - thought I would ask you for
your opinion.

Maggie.


Hi Maggie, thanks for your letter. So how small are they? You have to think about whether you want them enlarged to show them off or are you being pressured by the other half? If you are being pressured then, tell them to get stuffed as there are plenty of guys and girls out their who love small tits. If it is something you want to do, then go girl! But hey, it is probably best to send me in a photo and then I will tell you if I think they need enlarging.

Yes, lets cash in on the Melbourne cup! Yahoo does. I mean if they can, why don't we all. Send $10 and I'll go out on the piss for you...remember any excuse. About.com has all the relevant information that you could ever want to know 'about' the Melbourne cup.

Today: Melbourne Cup
A punt, a flutter – either way you want to be holding the winning ticket.
3.20pm and a nation will stop to watch a horse race. Whether you are a fan of the sport of Kings or not as an Australian you will most likely position yourself in front of a Television to watch the 2-mile race.

The Cup is more than a horse race though; it is the opportunity for Australia’s cultural best to parade the latest in elegance. In fact, it is about one of the only civilising events left in Australia. Hats, frocks and a glass of chardy – it makes me so proud to be an Australian.

So tune in your trannies, and place your bets gentleman.
Tally-ho, pip-pip and all that.

Fix My Arse
I love these new medical centre's popping up all over the place, this one is down at the Ryde Macquarie Shopping centre. Of course with all things great these days it has it's own website. The URL is of course www.macquariemedical.com. But tell me, why can't I see a webcam with a view of the waiting room so I know how long the que is? Why can't I see which doctors are in and who will see me. Am I really askng too much? Why have a website at all. Argh! Oh my favourite picture is of the kids playpen. Yeah bring ya kids and chuck em in a small glass box with other sick kids...excellent. This is not a room, it is a small box with glass that faces the carpark, get down to Ryde and check it out. I do agree though, this is where all kids should be put when mis-behaving.

Hot Damn....
This is the woman I want to be.

After posting for many popular web sites around the world, national news papers in Australia and magazines, I have now decided to post crap to this site to relieve boredom. By popular demand and for those of you just curious about what I look like, here is a photo of me on my bike.

The Sham Charity Phenomenon
It is skanks like this that give the Internet a bad name.

How often have you heard the Internet is evil! It is the vehicle defeating relationships, family core units and communication. It is exposing our bank accounts, our privacy and corrupting our children. The population tends to blame hackers, Bill Gates and his Microsoft.
I beg to differ.
It is the fibbers, the liars and the scam artists that play on people’s emotions that make the Internet a seedy place.

A few questions immediately pop into my mind, for the give me money site:
How do we know you really are in love?
You have to admit the risk of investment here is fairly high. The chances of you actually fulfilling a long-term and successful relationship are fairly slim.

Is my donation of over $2.00 tax deductible and will I receive a regular letter with details of your progress?
It seems to me that I would feel better about myself (because that is what charity is all about isn’t it?) if I donated my money to a somewhat more worthy cause. For Example, The Red Cross,

The biggest question is why do we really care, and who in the right mind would send money?
I’m afraid you pair have broken the Internet Etiquette, not to mention the simple and standard Social Etiquette of today. You have no spine, get out and busk on a street corner, get a job or be satisfied with your Internet relationship of distance.

Just don’t bug us with your petty problems, and especially stop asking people for money.

Give me Money!
I came across this blog site today. I call it the give me money site. They call it the donate to two people in love site. I mean seriously that is just beautifiul isn't it? How romantic? Ahhh I just think love is so, so, so...oh for crying out loud! How long does it take to save a couple of bucks to fly overseas? Not very damn long, especially after a certain incident involving a couple of planes and tall buildings. I think you two will find the old airfares are cheap as all hell now. Stop your whinning, get a job each and get going. In fact sell your computers and there you go...a plane ticket. In fact, Pippy had a great idea that I saw was working for her. Just ask all your friends for a dollar. If like us you have thousands of friends then there is $1000. I suggest you stop asking for donations on the net, because I think after 3 years you two should have saved enough, I mean it doesn't seem like you need accomdation when you get where ever it is you go. People, donate to the Salvos or something, not these con artists!

Or donate to Pippy and I. We gaurantee to go out and have an awesome night with your cash.

Out and About in Old Sydney Town
There is plenty to do in Old Sydney town if you are looking for fun. If your night out is a wine bar then there are plenty. If it is clubbing then there are plenty of these also. The differences in clubs can be quite amazing. From the good old Hero Clubs like DCMs which has a whole bunch of speed freaks with their shirts off to Arc with a whole bunch of gay guys with their shirts off to Gas with a whole Bunch of e taking freaks with their shirts on. I could review a number of places that I have been to, but I won't because who the heck would listen to anything I recommend anyway? But if a fun night out is what you are after, then Gas deserves a definate pop in. Just remember that it is $10 before 11 and $20 after. (Now try and tell me that post was even remotely relevant to anything.)

In a time when we are all searching for meaning. Why not join a cult. It is a great way to meet people and experience new life experiences.

There are numerous cults available, and all offering something new and exciting. Whether you have a fetish for snakes or science there is a cult that will make you feel good about being you – and if not they will brain wash you into being somebody else anyway and you won’t really care.

The night time is the right time. The night time is the right time.

Please do not get me started on the topic of God. Which god would you like to talk about today? Shall we talk about Aphrodite, the God that governs desire and sexuality. Or maybe Hades the god of the underworld? What they aren't real and there is only one God? Come on! There is no God. What the world is flat? What there were dinosaurs? I thought we came from Adam and Eve. Oh you are a religious nut, I see...right...get the hell away from me you FREAK! No I won't give you money for your church! I say I want to rule with the Beatles. Kick Arse!

God Loved Beetles!
When asked what his work in life science had taught him about God, J.B.S. Haldane, who helped link population genetics to evolution, said that the Creator showed an inordinate fondness for beetles. The remark, taken on the surface, smacks of cheek, but beneath it is something more profound: If more of something means greater love, then man is way down the list of God's favorites. For he is but a drop of the earth's mass compared to beetles, and is even further down the scale compared with bacteria.

Who needs self-help, when we have evolution baby....

World of Amendment
Why is it that people who are changing the world need to write it in a book? If it is that simple - why do we need a manual?

It seems today that experts in the field of self-help and/or community-help are churning out books quicker than Stephen King. I agree that the world today could be happy, more harmonious and probably a tad more colourful – but isn’t it slightly outrageous when you need a to read a book to become a better person?

Does the society mass feel it is growing up needing to be helped and do they really believe they will find the answer in a book? If we all need help, then who is going to provide help? Isn’t it all a trade off, working hard for more money to live the life you always wanted or working less, for less money to live the life you always wanted?

Just remember, it isn’t alternative if all your friends are doing it.

World of Change: Can one person change the world? Can a theory exist that is so simple, takes not time, no effort, will not effect religion, politics or social schematics but will forever enable the world to live in peace and harmony, not only with each other but with the environment, the universe and everything else. Well, soon we will see! Are these just the ramblings of some drug F#$%@d looney or will the world be forever changed? I reckon it is BOLLOCKS! but will give it a go as I'm always open to new ideas and new experiences.

Ok, this Blogger thing is just getting out of hand. Look at this blogger site. For f%$# sake! Men and women committed to excellence. The first thing to grab your eye is: You look really beautiful! How the hell do you know what I look like? Committed to excellence!!!! You have two links to Oprah's website. Excellence....My Arse! You should be committed - FREAKS!

How do you spot a table of IT types (Nerds) at a coffee shop? Well let me tell you. They all wear glasses, one has a South Park Star Wars T-shirt on, it is size XXXXL but still way too tight and his pants are arond his arm pits. The other is dressed nicely, but refuses to make eye contact with anyone at the table, the third is a female with her pants pulled up to her arm pits. (I should add they all have security passes around their neck or attached to the person somewhere. When they have all finished coffee, the female calculates the bill using her mobile phone. The nicely dressed one offers to pay the extra differing dollar after a 10 minute discussion on who should actually pay that dollar.

I AM NOT A NERD

Blaze a trail.
Due to an alarming amount of deaths of motorcycle riders in Australia, the local NSW governing body (RTA) implemented a new scheme to ensure all new riders had the appropriate biker skills before setting out on a blaze of glory.

To get your motorcycle licence in Australia you first need to complete two half days of pre-learner training where you learn the basics, pass a computer based knowledge test and you are then a legal ‘L’ plater. As a ‘L’ plater you can only ride a motorcycle of less than 250 capacity and at a maximum speed of 80Kph.

After 3 months and within 6 months, you must complete and pass a one-day training/testing session. You are then a ‘P’ plater. You can go a bit faster, and drink a little more.

12 months of being a ‘P’ plater and you become a real-live biker. There are no restrictions on pillion passengers or bike capacity. The RTA believes if you are still alive after being a L and P plater, there is a good chance you’ll live a bit longer.

Implementing such a scheme has greatly reduce the amount of fatal accidents, however, there is still the opportunity for the odd balls-up.

My latest balls-up.
I’d like to be able to blame it on the intoxicating effects of petrol fumes, or the difficulty of the spectacular act I was attempting to pull-off…but I’m afraid it was just a complete cock up on my behalf.

After a refreshing night ride through the streets of Sydney, I made it safely home and was getting prepared to park the bike for the night. Living in a narrow street, with not much of a footpath I sometimes have to battle the odd garbage bin to reach my parking destination. This did not cause the problem.

I parked the bike, put down the stand and was getting ready for the dismount. My jeans (which are a bit long for me) got caught around the stand and in one swift movement I found myself crashing to the ground with my bike on top of me. After a bit of swearing, I managed to wiggle free and was left standing looking at my bike.

Being a heavy bike (and me being a smallish girl) I was forced to rouse my sister from a deep sleep and together we managed to upright the bike and securely park it.

Today I’m sporting a hefty bruise, a sore butt cheek and damaged pride. Hope none of the neighbours saw.

I'm sorry but to spew on the first date...Shazza should not have gone out on the next date, she should have known that it would end in tears. Or vomit as it may be.

Why not combine dating and vomiting.
Introducing Daring Dave. Now, Daring Dave is your typical Aussie Yob – all arse and no class.

For months Dave had been admiring Sharon (or Shazza as her friends called her) from afar. He would make comments like “She’s a bit of all right” or “Wouldn’t mind her porkin’ my stork”. It took him a few months but he finally mustered up enough nerve and asked Shazza on a date.

The first date is always hard. You have to pick the venue, make sure your friends are primed (not to embarrass you, and bring out those nasty stories) and of course be relaxed enough to be yourself. Daring Dave, being a nervous bloke picked his favourite bar where he had 8 years experience and was considered a local.

Of course, one thing led to another and in an attempt to impress Shazza managed to drink close to 20 schooners of beer. (Not a bad effort considering he was slightly hung over – the Aussie’s had won a day-night match the night before). Combining these 20 schooners with some greasy bistro food (a hamburger with chips) things turned sour for poor old Daring Dave.

Engrossed in Shazza’s conversation and trying not to be rude – Dave ‘accidentally’ spewed his guts up all over the table. Instead of rushing to the bar for a cloth to wipe up the mess (and probably in an attempt to conceal his mistake) Dave took the supplied paper beer coaster and wiped the spew onto the floor. Nice Touch.

Daring Dave did get a second date with Shazza. But the relationship ended abruptly when Dave was arrested for streaking at an Under 12’s cricket match a few months later.

Note: The names have not been changed to protect the innocent.

Off the vomit topic for a moment and back to yesterdays online dating. I know I'm rambling again, but hey. Get a look at this blog, it is an ad for...wait for it...Wanted: small, shy, intellectual girl. Are you serious? You seem serious. You are one of those freaks from the bar that no one would talk to aren't you. GOOD LORD! Read on....

Me: incandescent intellectual, traditional, subversive, private, teacher, caretaker, wants to keep secrets with...

What secret are you keeping ya looney! Keep away from me.

People should give all consideration possible to their friends and family when going the Liquid Laugh. My fondest memories of the techicolour yawn would have to be returning to a pub and seeing a friend standing outside, upon my asking if they were ok, they preceeded to slip down the wall and spew on themselves. Well not directly, but catch it in their hand first and then rub it on their jacket. My first move was to get them in a better position for the chuck. "Get in the gutter ya spew'n freak!" No comment and vomit, hand, jacket. I call another friend who comes out and helps me carry said plastered friend around the corner. Hail Taxi. Fight over who gets ride in the cab with said vomiting freak. What happens next? Vomit in back seat, luckily the cab driver thought that death was near and just wanted this person OUT! Good call my friend.

Now let me re-inact this in a perfect world. Said spewer walks outside pub, moves towards gutter and throws up entire content of stomach in gutter. No mess, no fuss. Return to pub and continue drinking. Or retire for the evening. Your choice.

If you have to spew, and lets admit it everyone does at some stage, then at least be considerate. You know the gut aint right, it might happen straight away but hey, you know...make a move to limit the chunder effect and splash damage.

My spew of note, shit, there have been so many...I would have to say the best spew ever was one of the three I don't remember, but have a litte splash damage left over to show for it. Best spew I have witnessed...a work colleague and a work function, gets up from table, throws up on the table, scrambles towards the toilets, throwing up all the way, scores the table next to ours, the floor, the dance floor, the toilet door, the mirror, the sink, the trough, the toilet floor, the toilet cubicle door, then the toilet itself. I have never seem so much spew! Well done...next time think of others, hold it in move to the bowl or gutter and do it in private.

Going the vomit, having a good chunder, spewing up your guts or simply just boasting a heave.
There is nothing worse than sharing a cab home with a friend that has over indulged only to receive a lap full of vomit. Yes, you are good mates but do you really need to share everything?

I have been known to take the odd vomit.
My most famous vomit was back in 1998 when I attended Sydney’s Gay Mardi Gras. After consuming a largish bottle of vodka (I was a party about to happen) and enjoying much of the parade I was ready to head home! After hailing a taxi, we started the trek across the Sydney Harbour Bridge. During the crossing I needed to spew, being unable to stop the taxi I decided to hurl my guts up into my backpack – saving my fellow passengers from a chunky shower. Good Samaritan you say, and I would have to agree. The problem came on Monday when returning to work (with a hang over that would kill a black dog), I opened my bag only to find the generous present I’d left myself the day before.

The comfort I take is that I’m not alone and the fact that no one has photographic evidence of any of my vomiting. Unlike this poor soul, and this one and who could forget this one…