Anthony Malloy

Rae and I talk all the time but the most entertaining chats I have with her are when she is asleep.

Last night.

Rae : “Put some pants on.”
Tony : “Okay, why?”
R : “They’re here.”
T : “Who is here?”
R : “Hurry up, put your pants on.”
T : “I do have pants on.”
R : “No they’re only boxers.”
T : “Okay, I’ve put pants on. Who is here?”
R : “The monkeys.”
T : “The monkeys?”
R : “The flying monkeys that are taking us to Kansas.”

Then followed a long list of muttered names, only two of which I could pick out – Michael Jordan and Yoda.

Introducing the wonderful Jen – she who is responsible for my trip to Canada all those years ago and the time and money I’ve sunk in to a sport from half way around the world.

Miss ya Jen.

Decide that, ’cause it’s a perfect afternoon, you’ll duck out from work and walk the half hour to your mechanic to pick up your car thereby allowing you to run in to your boss a couple of blocks away from your office.

This then allows your boss, out on his daily walk, to ask most reasonably, “What are you doing out here Tony?”.

It can’t be a good sign when your mechanic smiles as he describes a problem, can it?

What the hell have the Tige’s done to deserve this?

Richmond faces a major test of its depth when it faces arch-rival Essendon at the MCG on Saturday with the Tigers set to be without almost a third of their best line-up. (More…)

Idiot that I am, I’ll still be there.

Ouch.

Just as I was preparing to get broadband put on at home (the Home 512 plan) my car’s transmission (I think it’s the bit that makes the gear changes) has decided it doesn’t want to work. I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried driving over the West Gate as traffic builds and all you can do is 40kph. It’s not pleasant.

Now the brakes are on the PC, transmission to come on the car.

I had this dream.

I paid a lot of money to the pay tv people to watch my team play and they played and they lost and I was sad and Rae was sad for me too.

And I woke up.

And I realised I hadn’t been asleep.

Someone pass me my mantra please, “In Spud we trust, in Spud we trust, in Spud we trust…”.

The piano well and truly fell this week.

Rae’s grandmother passed away, which was sad but Rae barely knew her, a couple of meetings in 31 years I think, so it was sad in an odd, detached sort of way.

Then today Oscar, our little kitten who disappeared on Tuesday, was found. She’d been hit by a car. Poor Rae, it’s her day off and now she is spending the afternoon burying Oz in the back yard under the flower bed that the kitten loved to dig up.

Think I’ll just go home. Back tomorrow.