I spent 6 hours trying to do my IC assignment today. I had more work to do tonight, a lot more work. This is why the colour scheme selector now works correctly in the menu.

I feel cleansed now, this is a level of procrastination that you can just take a step back from afterwards and go, "man, ahh, I spent hours of my valuable time on implementing a feature so useless even I won't use it".

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The woman with the fake tan stepped into my office, sat across from my desk and lit a cigarette.
At least, she would, sometime in the next 20 minutes. Smelling the future has advantages, but precision isn’t one of them.


Today's entry is 90% motivated by getting value out of this Timmy picture.
The other 10% is this:

Next year I will celebrate the 2nd of June as EMIT day by going out and nailing a woman in her forties.

Where is my Sunset?

This is where I'd like to be right now: On top of a cliff. At sunset. There'd be a slow bit of the song where the drums would slow down and then the guitar would come back in with all new electric-organ backing it and the camera on my determined yet relieved face would zoom out until I was a tiny speck on the edge of that cliff with the golden-orange rays of the sunset splashed over everything.

That's how you know movies are over, because the character you spent the last hour or two following closely and becoming attached to suddenly fades back out to where they came from and you let it go. It's the typical cliche ending. And I need one.

Because I can't remember when my last one was. I keep overlapping all my sequels with their prequels and there's no time for my electric-organ rock song and credits. But do I really want to become a speck and fade out? Maybe that's most people only get one these things, and it's when they die.

If anyone knows any good rock songs with keyboards and sunsettness in them please let me know (comment) so that when I get the feeling that every single thing is wrapped up and I can get some time that nothing important can happen I can listen to them and drink tropical cocktails and pretend like my life is complicated and that I deserve tropical cocktails and not doing anything. I saw a nice sunset on Friday night and because I was driving alone I seemed to think all this up. (I don't really need one, I just want one).

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Drama Queen

I read in an entry from when I was initially designing Bradism that my journal entries would focus on insightful reflections rather than everyday ramblings.
But I think it's important to iterate at this stage that while my brain is capable of processing, analysing and cultivating in-depth analysis of my life and associating it with imagery and metaphors, I'm really pretty chill. I think I'll hand in all my assignments on time and pass all my exams. In doing this I probably won't even do much work outside business hours. This is because of a combination of efficient working when I do manage to stop procrastinating momentarily and a lifelong habit of assuming that I will successfully meet all my goals even if I don't purposefully stride towards them every waking moment.

I Have A Really Shitty Car

I've finished 4 assignments so far this week. This only leaves IC. IC as in I don't C that happening. The assignment I wrapped up in the computer labs by 6pm tonight was DB2. God, as if somehow offended by my offhand dismissal of his ultimate power and ability to get things done in a short amount of time, rewarded me with a torrential downpour at the corresponding moment. Apparently The Guy is kind of smarmy, like freeing the Israelites so they could wander the desert for 40 years wasn't enough.
So I've finished my assignments and while I was doing them it's turned winter. I leave the lab and walk downstairs to the door that leads to the car park and it is absolutely pissing down. Before I (practically) kick the door down and bolt for my car I first zip up my jacket, get my car key in one hand and tuck my bag under my arm. The 150m sprint, which involves almost slipping over on some gravel and trying to remember where my car is parked, was soon over and after hurling my bag onto the passenger seat and slamming my door I inhaled a deep breath, exhaled an impressed expletive and started my car. I wasn't positive it started, as the rain was drowning out the sound of the engine, but I was confident enough to put it in gear and cautiously experiment with driving.
This point, or actually the point just before it, is where I realise the quality of my car is going to play a major factor in my ability to get home. Even while approaching my car I could see that the Commodore windscreen, not notorious for promoting visibility, was already fogged up before I even got there. How this happened I don't know, most likely it was more God spite, synonymous with ‘science’. I resign myself to using the demister so I can, you know, actually see anything and upon flicking it up it cacks out and dies. However the setting below it worked so I had to demist the whole windscreen using the 'general warmth' level. For the record, I was actually able to see through the middle of the windscreen just before I pulled into my driveway.
My practically opaque windscreen was a disadvantage made much heartier by my headlights, with strength can best be comprehended when you consider that when I'm hurtling towards a deer or rabbit crossing the road at night, they just keep going. It was only because of appropriately timed lightening that I managed to negotiate around several obstacles during the journey home.
Cursing my demister, windscreen and headlights I put the car into gear and turn the wipers onto 'storm mode'. Screeching starts and I realise that the blade has been knocked free of the metal clip that holds it in place, and that is now scratching my windscreen to fuck. I guess when you design a car with such poor visibility as the VK Commodore, the concept of using plastic instead of metal for something that might touch the windscreen repetitively. It's not the first time my blade has come loose and I would be damned if I was going to get out to fix it in that weather. I've done that before and it always comes loose again. Ironically I think the blades only get knocked out when it rains.
So there I am, driving home navigate purely by keeping the line in the middle of the road to the right of the tiny gap of visibility at the bottom-right of my windscreen. This visibility was not enough to see the giant puddles on the edge of the road. So I actually had a few waves break over my bonnet on the way up the hill. Then there was a bus that I had to get around, and branches but then finally Car Park God led me safely to my carport. And I was happy. Rain makes me happy.

Football Reflections

Last night I went to AAMI Stadium to see the Bulldogs lose in Adelaide for the fifth time straight in 3 years. Happy obtained members seats for the outing and so I got to sit in the third level under shelter and was pretty comfortable for the game, particularly during the first half.
At least the Bulldogs kicked more than five goals this year. The trip was reasonably seamless, save for the one crucial mistake I made shortly after parking. Due to paying at the gate to the carpark, by the time I had parked I still had my wallet sitting on my lap with my change on top of it. I stopped the car and then put my wallet in my pocket and got out. This was not my normal routine for exiting my vehicle, and it meant I'd omitted the crucial step of removing my keys from the car before I locked the door. This was most likely a ploy by my car in revenge for the shit I wrote about it on Friday.
There was still an hour before the game so I rang up the RAA and they said they'd send a van to meet me. After hanging up I realised I was being a little foolish, after all, I was at a Port game. So I asked loudly to the air around me "does anyone here know how to break into a VK Commodore?”. A great many people thought they did, and tried, but my car is reasonably impenetrable when you're trying to break in without actually damaging any of it.
The RAA guy didn't come in an hour, so I abandoned my car and watched the game and then called them after. They came in 45 minutes this time and the guy broke into my car with a bent piece of wire in about 30 seconds. I'm never leaving anything valuable in my car again.
After the drive home I went to Jarrad's where we and Chow played Race, and then Snap with race cards.
I'm not supposed to play Snap anymore. As a junior I'd had a very promising career and made it to nationals. I was then suspended for snapping a guy in the face in the semi's. The next year I made to the final and was winning until I suffered a career ending wrist injury and had to withdraw.
Doctors said I could never play Snap again, and if I tried I may lose all use of my right hand. For a decade I heeded their warnings but then in two separate coincidences in two days I've been drawn back into the Snap arena for social games at Jarrad’s and again tonight at my house. I know I shouldn't be snapping, but all those instincts are still there. And the good news is I still kick arse at Snap. :cool:

I Need to find a better town

I went to Marion the other day, probably the biggest shopping centre within reasonable driving distance from my house.
I'd just handed in my last assignment (important to note I said "handed in", not "finished") and felt like rewarding myself for my hard work with a new pair of shoes. But first I did a bit of shopping for odds and ends.
I need more weights for my bar. They don't stock them in the right bar size.
I wanted to get some DVDs that came out in the US weeks ago, they're not out yet.
I wanted to get brighter headlights for my car, but they're out of stock.
And nowhere in Marion could I find a nice pair of shoes in my size. What makes it worse is the way the shop assistants respond when you ask them about size 16 shoes.
I'm very polite, and experienced for that matter, so my usual strategy is to find someone working and approach them and ask them "what do you have in size 16 casual shoes?” For some reason everyone responds to this question in the same way I'd expect them to if I asked them if I could take them up the batty.
"Oh my, no, no way. Not now, not ever. Please never come back and ask questions like that again!"

And speaking of limited or late selection in Adelaide, if you're going to watch TV in the next few months please tune into House on Channel 10. It's one of the better shows to be produced in the last few years and I recommend checking it out.


On a rainy day I played basketball against an old foe, Brighton, powered by some ingeniously prepared steak sandwiches.
Despite being down 8 points to 17 at half time we managed to score 30 in the second half and restrict them to just six during, and a further 1 just after, and won the game comfortably. It was a very enjoyable and hard earned victory, the depth of this statement revealed to me when I washed all the blood off my hands afterwards leaving only the surely not coincidentally fingernail-shaped cuts beneath. A good team effort.
Then tonight, in between studying for networks, the Bulldogs beat Carlton and didn't really seem to try very hard. And that made it a good day for me.


Today I did not listen to a single song. It was a day without music as I required all my brain to focus on accepting and storing data in cold, grimy memory instead of having joyous melodies spin through the warmer corridors and back out into atmosphere as carbon monoxide.
Anyway I'm pretty sure I'll ace my biology exam.

An Insight into examinations

Oh shit, prolog question.
Ok how does append work?
I bet that fat, old guy knows how append works
... Ok what does append even do? Oh god.
Oh man he's finished already.
Maybe if Prolog was actually good I would be able to do this
he's got to be like 35 years old and I bet he's stoked he finished early so he can go home and play World of Warcraft.
I wish I hadn't drunk two cups of coffee before this I need to pee so badly.
FUCK! Prolog...
I reckon his mum knitted him that sweater.
I am definitely getting something from the bakery on the way home.
Why am I thinking about writing a journal entry in the middle of my exam, freaking concentrate!
... I want to play basketball on those rings...



When it's really overcast and stormy outside I like to turn my light off and open my curtains and pretend I'm on a ship.

I cruised through the networks exam today. It's the ones approaching the bow that are my main concern. IC as in I'm currently lost at C when it comes to passing that exam. I have until Tuesday to do what I did the last few days for networks. That is, open a porthole in my brain and spend three days pouring the entire course into it then bailing it all out come the examination.

Once that was done, and despite a pressing need to use the head again, I drifted off course on the way home to visit a fitness store on South Rd which I thought may sell some weights I needed but in fact wasn't open and was some personal trainer centre. However, hard to starboard near where I parked was an Op Shop. It was called "Op Shop - Better than you think". Figuring I'd come this far I made a call to the store seeing that op shops are usually pretty good.

That op shop is shit. It's not better than you think and I'm pretty certain that an issue of Woman's Day from March 1993 may have devalued slightly since printing.

Strange Bedfellow

Muggy sunlight punched through the clouds and into my room, waking me up for the day. I blinked my eyes open and then my mouth dropped...

Yesterday started sourly because I missed basketball and instead went to uni for the DB2 exam at 1:15. Basketball was at 3:10. I had five exams this semester, and of them all the one, the only one that wasn't at 8:45am on a weekday, was the one at the same time as my basketball game.
This bugged me, but I accepted it and went to the exam and did pretty well I think. I've still got two exams to study for this week, but last night Alex had a whole bunch of his friends around and they were running around and I felt it best to vacate. So I headed down to Chalkers to meet up with Andy and some others and play pool just for a while until my house was emptied and I could still get a reasonably early night and prepare for my study tomorrow.
Well time goes slow at a pool hall when you suck and keep losing. I decided I wanted to unwind after my exam so as the night stretched I grabbed a beer, which became a couple of beers... Next thing I know I'm waking up sleeping next to something I do not want to be seeing lying beside me.

oh god


Overcoming my initial nausea I resumed where I left off the night before and have stopped now 14 hours later to bitch about drullness, which is a mood I invented to describe studying IC.

30 Days to Die

I received a phone call this afternoon with a 'special offer' for me, a 'valued customer'. I :rolleyes:, but before I could express disinterest I caught a hint of accent and realised that the guy from BankSA that was calling me was Scottish. This was cool. So I agreed to let them sign me up for some BankSA Life Insurance policy. I get a 30 day free trial during which, if I die accidentally I get $100,000! And if I die on public transport or in a public library or in public (this was some important clause but hard to understand in Scottish) I get $200,000! No shit, for free. Plus I also get $5000 towards any credit card debt.
So I agreed to this deal, partly by accident because I had to compile my response before I'd finished interpreting what he said. I'm going to cancel it once the 30 day trial ends, but if I die then someone is going to get some money. I never specified who over the phone so IT MAY BE YOU!
Today was also welfare day so financially everything was pretty sweet.
Today I did the IC exam, and probably quite well I think. So that was very nice. Tomorrow is my final exam, EMIT, which should be quality with it being open book and everything. So come 11am I will be without the mental jocks that have been tightly constricting my brain during the mental marathon of the last 30ish days and I can finally freeball into 25 days of unrestricted cognitive freedom. During which I can die quite freely, but hopefully won’t.

Brad's Wintry Journal 3