Procedural Skills

"Now I just need you to extend your arm forwards. Yes, like that... And the other one.... yep, good. Okay, now can I get you to turn your hands over- no. No, stop that. No- just- Put your hands down- NICKI, THE MACARENEA IS NOT A DIAGNOSTIC TEST."

The Shire of Bland

N:

"I think it's time for water crackers."

K:

"I love water crackers."

"Me too; I'll get the dips."

"You know, I love them so much that I would quite happily eat them bland."

"Yes, I'll drink to that."

"... we lead interesting lives."

later:

K:

"I notice I tend to go for the little bit-at-a-time approach, whereas you just get massive chunks of dip."

N:

"We have complementary methods."

"We have complementary ways of eating dip?"

later still:

K:

"... It's not really dip- appropriate weather, is it?"

N:

"Please stop saying things I feel obligated to include in the blog."

We do. It's a legitimate thing.

Conversations

K:

"So let me get this straight. Jim and Brenton are sat in the labs at uni discussing it, while you and I are sat here, discussing it, and you and Brenton are texting each other to inform both parties of the separate discussions that are occurring simultaneously about the same thing."

N:

"Err, yes."

K:

"You know what I think? I think we should just form a committee. We can all sit down and raise various motions and take votes. That would be far, far easier for all involved."

N:

"But then how would we handle the Spanish Confessionals?"

Cup-o'-tea Count: An adequate amount for good confabulation.

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I think I speak for everyone when I say "MEDICINE; YOU WEIRD."

K:

"You won't believe this, but there is such a thing as- well, firstly you should know that I'm doing a bit on ear infections- and one of the cures is called an aural toilet."

N:

"An oral toilet? That makes no sense. Also it's a bit gross."

"No, no, no. An aural toilet. It's... well, I suppose it's a toilet that goes in your ear."

"What."

"Yeah. I'll see if I can find a picture... oh, nope, that's just actual people sitting on actual toilets. Ooh, but there's a good one here of an elephant sat on a giant loo."

"An aural toilet is an elephant sat on a giant loo? Remind me never to go the doctors ever again."

Uni Life

N: 

"Man, I love being a Uni student. It's 8:30 and I still have plans to go out and stand by a street to take photos for my I&P course, and then go drinking and video game playing after that. This is great! It's like the evening is my morning all over again!"

K: 

"Yes, well you live in a twilight zone. Every day is like that for you."

Fun and Games

K:
"I'm bored; entertain me!" 

N:
"Okay here's a fun game. I'm sending you on a treasure hunt, and you only get two clues. The object I want you to find has roughly the same dimensions as a DVD and written somewhere on it is "El Orphanato, a film by Guillermo Del Toro." 

K:
"You're a little bit shit sometimes, aren't you?"

5 Minutes Later 

K:
"Not only is that a shit game, but I have also just lost it." 

On Tea, featuring Brenton

Nipper: 

"I keep forgetting how much I like it between cups. Sometimes, there are even cups of tea that I take entirely for granted."

Brenton, a fellow lover of tea:

"Wow. That's a terrible thing to say."

"But then every once in a while I'll have tea and think 'there really is nothing better than this.' I mean I have it when I'm working or when I'm reading and I don't really take time out to appreciate it; it's just kind of there like a really good friend... and then some days you realise that your really good friend is totally top notch and you get all emotional about it. That is what my relationship with tea is like." 

"... That is really just oddly specific."

Daisy's tail

K, on phone:

"Oh my God, you're not going to believe what just happened!"

N, in Woolies:

"Err what? Can it wait twenty minutes only I'm just in the middle of-"

"No. This is ridiculous you have to hear it."

"Okay then, shoot."

"OKAY SO DAISY'S TAIL JUST-"

"... Just what? Just fell off? Became sentient? Changed colour? Wha-- oh."

Her phone had run out of battery, and I had just assumed it was a pause for dramatic effect and kept talking.

The correct answer, by the way, was 'caught fire'. The cat's tail had just caught fire.

Cup-o'-tea Count: Soothing a bruised Dignity.

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Guest Post

Julie, a supercool film person:

"'Whenever's earliest for you?' That's like 'whenever's easiest for you'- except the complete opposite of that."

Coffee

K, while trying to pour ground coffee from one container to another:

"Oh dear, I'm not very good at handling powdery things. It's a good job I'm not a drug lord."

Downton Abbey (Series 2 Episode 7 Trailer)

"Well, Good Grief."

"Indeed. I think we should take a moment to- well, first to appreciate Oliver Cockerham's name there in the credits- and then to bask in the sheer beautiful magnificence that is Dame Maggie Smith and everything she does."

Cup-o'-tea Count: Only the correct amount for ladies of our standing.

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Chicken Cacciatore

"How much wine did it say to put in there?"

"About half a cup. How much did you put in?"

"... Yeah, we're going to get drunk off dinner."

Cup-o'-tea Count: There is no tea, only wine!
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Thunder

"In films- when they need thunder sounds- what do they do?"

"They go out and record thunder."

"But what if there isn't any?"

"Then I guess they'd probably use stock sounds from their library."

"What if there aren't any stock sounds?"

"There's always stock sounds."

"Oh..."

"... Do you want me to tell you they record the sound of wheelie bins?"

"Yes."

"They record the sound of wheelie bins."

"AWESOME."

Cup-o'-tea Count: ALL OF THE TEA.

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Cooking Carbonara

"Did you just eat raw bacon?"

"... Yeah?"

"I didn't even need to look up to know you were doing that. Honestly, and you were going on about me not cutting off the ends of the beans last night."

"And?"

"And you're eating raw bacon."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't eat raw ends-of-beans."

---

Later...

---

"GET BACK YOU FILTHY END-OF-BEAN EATER!"

"YOU SICKEN ME! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND TAKE YOUR BEAN ENDS WITH YOU!"

"BEGONE, EATER OF BEANENDS!"

Why we have been absent

Nipper to K's brother:

"Hey, Ad. D'you mind if I download an emulator on your laptop?"

Kiki:

"What's an emulator?"

Nipper:

"It let's you play video games on your computer."

Kiki:

"Oh... you want to play pokémon, don't you?"

Nipper:

"... Yes."

Kiki:

"You are the biggest dork of them all."

Home Renovations

With a special guest appearance from K's mum.

K's mum:

"You know, girls, we could always knock through to the bathroom to make an ensuite."

Nipper:

"And then what would I do, if there are two ensuites and none of them are connected to my room?"

K's mum:

"Well, we'd just knock have to through to your room as well."

Kiki:

"Oh, yes, and why don't we knock through to the neighbours house while we're at it: 'Don't mind us, we're just knocking through!'"

Nipper:

"But this is our lounge!"

K's mum:

"Not any more! We've knocked through!"

Cup of tea count: Enough to satisfy the builders.

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Morning Rituals

"I quite like that the cats have a little morning/night ritual just like we do. If I leave my door open, they'll come and sleep on the end of my bed, and then when my alarm goes off, they get up and walk across my face to make sure I'm awake. Then they hear your alarm and they go off to scratch at your door until you let them in for morning cuddles, before they scamper off to follow me into the bathroom and I have to shoo them out so I can have a shower."

"You have to shoo them out? There is a shower curtain you know. They don't have x-ray vision."

"Yeah, but I get worried that they'll get bored or poo somewhere while I'm in the shower and I'm terrified of having to clean it up. I've learned the hard way that these cats need to have 24 hour access to their litter tray without exception, and even then it's a bit risky."

"Huh. Y'know, the whole poo thing really ruined the idyllic morning thing you had going. I'd leave that out next time you tell it."

Cup-o-tea Count: Making up for lost time!

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K; on the many nuances of Wine

"White, obviously, is different to red."

Transformers the Third

Nippers would like it to be known that she hasn't actually seen the film, but she figures her input is relavent anyway. She would also like to that Kiki for taking one for the team and actually going out to see this film so she could report her findings to Nipper, who never actually left the couch.

Transformers 3 is pretty much the same as all the others: lots of explosions from start to finish and very little else in between. The plot is the same as always- there are some good ones and some bad ones, and most of them are blown up. From the moment the trailers ended, the motion sickness set in, fuelled by a scene reminiscient of a laser skirmish in outer space. This tied in nicely with the inference that the Space Race of the 50s and 60s was not actually about Americans punching Russian dignity in the throat, or vice versa, but instead to do with an alien space ship on the moon. Niel Armsrtong and Buzz Aldrin were therefore not just holidaying on a floating rock, but also there to steal some cool shit from an intergalactic junkyard. In fact, Optimus Prime and Buzz Aldrin even start a little "I've been to space" buddy club, which presumably Armstrong wasn't invited to because he had BO, or because he has the good sense to stay the hell away from Transformers movies. There was a momentary glimpse of actual academic reference in the form of a robot that was designed after Albert Einstien, but then it died.

John Malcovich- who's character they spent quite a while introducing- just disappeared half way through the film. He didn't die or anything; we can only assume he went on a toilet break and got heinously lost amongst the plumbing. And you know how in the earlier ones Megan Fox had white trousers that never seemed to get dirty? Well in this one the chick had a white jacket. Apparently dating Sam Witwickey gives your clothes the ability to instantaneously launder themselves. On a similar wardrobe-related note, there was a scene in which she was sent flying through a collapsing building, flung side to side through panes of glass, and went hurtling down the outside of said building- and somehow managed to keep these slip-on high heels on, revealing that this particular supermodel enjoys supergluing her shoes to the soles of her feet.

Oh, and if you weren't sold on the Matrix of Leadership in the last film because it sounded like one of those wanky things your Religious Ed teacher goes on about, fear not: you've got the whole of this movie to warm up to it too!

All in all, I don't know exactly what happened in the last three hours of my life, only that I will never get them back.

RSPCA

"Oh, and you missed a call from the RSPCA."

"Oh really? What did they want?"

"They said you've won a giraffe."

"What."

"Yeah. She said Hi there I'm Blahdy Blah from the RSPCA is Nicki there, she's won a giraffe."

"A giraffe."

"Yes."

"Not Raffle. Not carafe. But giraffe."

"Yes."

"..."

"... Well I may have misheard."

I have absolutely no idea when I entered this competition or whatever it is, or why they are offering large African mammals as prizes, or even how they got our home phone number, which even my cousins don't have. CONFUSION HAS.

Cup-o'-tea Count: Obviously plenty of the hallucinatory stuff.

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Sarcasm

N: I think I've buggered my back on the way home... [tries to move] - Oh, Christ on a bike.

K: Were you on your bike?

N: Er, thanks... And yeah, feel free to worship me any time.

K: What? No- I meant did you do your back in on your bike, not that you're-

N: Yeah, I know. I was just joking.

K: You sounded pretty serious.

N: That's because I wasn't.

K: I can't even tell if you're being sarcastic or not anymore.

N: What? Of course I was being sarcastic- weren't you?

K: Yes, of course I was. I was being sarcastic about you being sarcastic.

N: Well, obviously.

K: ... I swear to God anyone listening in wouldn't have the faintest clue what either of us are on about.

Cup of tea count: Apparently not enough to make any sort of sense whatsoever.

EDIT: Also holy crap 10 views to go until we hit 500. I mean that's probably not a big number in the blogging world, but it's a lot of pageviews to people who are used to having only their mothers read their facebook page.

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Birthday Invitations

HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS ITS K'S BIRTHDAY.

This is super important cause she's all kinds of rad and a bit like Jesus in that respect, which makes all of us her disciples, or pet donkeys. Like Jesus, she's invited us all along to this super dooper ace-tastic dinner thing to celebrate her existence, except she won't be dying at the end of it 'cause unlike Jesus she knows how to not put a downer on a party. Also unlike Jesus she won't be getting us to drink wine and pretend its her blood like some kind of wussy vampiric cult ritual, or singling one of us out to betray her by keying her car or something. So I guess actually she's not all that much like Jesus at all.

Anyway, it's going to be a pretty fun party so you should be there.

Love from N

I still don't see why we couldn't have sent that one out.

.

Stranded

So this week denotes the start of HolyShitThatEssay'sDueTodayIsn'tItBetterGetStarted block, as well as The Melbourne Trip and the beginning of the Double Whammy Birthday Shebang. Unfortunately, only one of these things has happened.

And that's the Melbourne Trip.

Some of you may be aware that in the last week or so, a hill in Chile turned out to be quite a bit more explosive than most, and has been spewing out what can only be described as an awesome- that's awesome in the traditional 'I-am-incredibly-humbled-and-slightly-scared-by-the-sheer-power-and-majesty-of-it' sense of the word and not in the 'hey-that-hamster-is-wearing-knuckledusters' sense- plume of ash and fire lighting and all sorts of frankly insane freak weather since then.

Conveniently, said plume of ash has decided not only to devastate the landscape of South America, (because that is where Chile is, and not near Turkey, as suggested by one member of our party, who seemed to be under the impression that all countries that share their names with foods must be next door to each other) but also to take a short holiday into Australian air space. That's right; a volcano has spewed an ash cloud that has travelled approximately 11, 362 km across the South Pacific Ocean and stopped air traffic in a totally different continent.

Mother Nature is not a woman to be fucked with.

Anyway, this has meant that our flight home has been grounded (read: missed, cancelled, and never to be seen again) and that after tonight the only thing we have left is the hire car, our singing voices and a lot of mobile phones with low battery.

... Let the road trip begin.

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Family Portraits

Kiki:

"Awsh that is so cute."

Nipper:

"What is?"

Kiki:

"Oh, it's just this picture of one of my old teachers and his son... and they've made a stegosaurus pizza."

I've realised that it's not our lives that are interesting and hilarious, it's more that we are one pair of lunatics in a world of wonderful nutters.

Cup of tea count: Situation Critical. More teabags needed.

Old Timey Songs

Kiki (in song):

"There was cheese, cheese, crawling on it's knees

In the store, In the store.

There was cheese, cheese, crawling on it's knees,

In the quatermaster's store."

Ad infinitum with verses involving meat with feet, eggs on legs, bread doing headstands and feminist flour.

Nipper (in speech):

"Two things: firstly, I never, ever want to meet this quatermaster and his little gang of sentient mutant biohazard food friends, and two, I seem to recall you looking up that chant, and those definitely not being the words."

Kiki (ignoring, and still in song):

"My eyes are dim, I cannot see

I have not brought my specs with me.

I haaave no-ot brought my specs with me."

Nipper (still definitely not in song):

"Well, you certainly didn't have them with you when you were looking up the words."

Cup of tea count: We are on rations. We have three teabags left. Situation is getting desperate.

The best movie of all time, according to the Internet

Special Guest Post

My dad, on the phone:

"I'm stood here in the kitchen on my own staring at an empty sausage roll box. I'm not finding it very inspiring."

Cup of tea count: According to him, enough to fuel a documentary on whether round, square or pyramid tea bags are more effective.

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Technology

"You think you're bad with tech? A computer once grew a limb just so it could give me the finger."

Cup of tea count: 42, the meaning of life.

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Nipper and Kiki's guide to Australian Capital Cities

City: Brisbane (also BrisVegas)

Residents known as: Brisbanites

Description: Nothing like Vegas.

City: Melbourne

Residents known as: Melbournians

Description: Where everything happens.

City: Sydney

Residents known as: Sydneysiders

Description: Where everything that didn't make it to Melbourne happens. Also still not the capital of Australia.

City: Canberra (Nation Capital, but we try to forget)

Residents known as: Politicians

Description: Politicians congregate here and pretend to run the country.

City: Adelaide

Residents known as: Radelanians

Description: Adelaide is in the south.

City: Darwin

Residents known as: Darwinians

Description: Very hot.

City: Perth

Residents known as: No one is from Perth

Description: Thought it was a marsupial until I googled for this post.

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Clothing

"You know what fashion I'd like to see make a return? Clothes that fit. I'd really like to own a shirt that doesn't go down to me knees in the name of 'cool', thanks."

Cup of tea count: Just finished our box of 100 teabags... and are already making our way through another pack of twenty five.

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Driving

"Okay, it' just up here. If you can, try to throw yourself out of the car in a stylish and conservative manner; we don't want to look like lunatics."

Cup of tea count: stuntman levels

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Winter Cleaning

"Right. The bathroom is now so clean that if someone asked you to eat your dinner off the floor you would still say no, because someone who is mad enough to ask you to eat off the floor is also probably mad enough to mix up salt with arsenic... but the floor is pretty damn clean is what I'm trying to say."

Cup of tea count: One each- after a full day's worth of scrubbing the house to within an inch of its life.

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DVD Blurbs

A new segment of the blog: translating DVD blurbs into their simplest and most basic forms. As an example, Magnolia. The original blurb is as follows:

"Throughout one tumultuous day in the San Fernando Valley, a group of fractured lives collide and intertwine through a series of chance encounters, secret betrayals, shared histories and divine intervention... finally building to one of the most unforgettable climaxes in cinematic history. Some will seek forgiveness, others escape it. Some will mend damaged lives, others will open old wounds. Some will reap what they have sowed. But towering above it all is the belief that the past forever affects the present."

The simplified version:

"One day in California, a few people meet up. Quite by coincidence, some of them have met before, but don't remember. It gets pretty dramatic. Some of the people will be happy, others not so much, but in the end, most of them start to believe in cause and effect."

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On Politics

"Well, it's a bit of a joke, really isn't it?"

"Yeah; whenever anyone asks me whether I'm left wing or right wing I always get the mental picture of two birds with one wing apiece spinning ineffectually on the floor and nothing ever happening."

"So, basically, you visualise politicians."

Cup of tea count: slurped from an elephant's trunk, with a couple of monks.

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The Alarm Clock Saga

Like any other self-respecting university students, we have great difficulty getting up in the morning, and have come to rely very heavily upon our alarm clocks. The problem is- and I'm sure this won't fall upon deaf ears- is that when you start to become familiar with your alarm clock's bleat, you become desensitised to the brain-shatteringly deafening sense of sheer panic that accompanies it, and eventually become quite comfortable in hearing the alarm clock, shooting your hand out like some kind of predator to shut it off, and curling back to sleep in the snugness that is your blanket.

As we all know, completing your degree is a common precursor to employment, and in order to complete your degree, you must attend classes. You may underestimate the importance of this next link in the chain of life, but in a world where classes begin at 8am sharp, and your usual hours of dormancy begin somewhere in the vicinity of midnight or 1am, the alarm clock becomes an invaluable tool in ensuring that you go to class, and therefore complete your degree and get a job- which allows you to earn money, which leads to food (also something that university students prize higher than gold) and the promise of a better life.

So then, the task to which we have assigned unequivocal importance is that of finding an alarm clock that emits such an awful, ear-splitting, gripping sound that you have no choice but to wake up and drag your sorry arse into the shower to begin another day immersed in the pursuit of knowledge. Or booze. Or both, simultaneously, as is usually the case.

And here's the thing: we did it. Or, rather, I did it, with a nifty little $9.95 purchase from Ikea: a black circular alarm clock fashioned in the traditional two-bell-and-clanger format that not only shrills like a banshee, but also shudders its way across your bedside table so that you have to chase it with your predator-arm, usually with the ultimate upshot of knocking the thing onto the floor, where it continues to be vociferous.

Of course, with such a purchase- and the unspoken but universal rules of housemateship - mi casa es K's casa también; the alarm clock is shared. Now, for three months, this hasn't been so much of an issue- we've simply worked it into our routine that every evening preceding an early morning class, you embark upon a minor retrieval operation to collect the clock from across the landing. But - and there is always a but, isn't there? - of course there are days when we are both in need of the alarm clock, and then what began as a minor search-and-rescue becomes a battle strategy of amazing proportions, in which rainbow-coloured socks are launched, cats go flying and full-scale skeletons become barricades for doors.

Needless to say that we reached a point eventually, with Dr Bob the Skellygog's bony hand around K's neck and the cat clinging to my face, that this had to stop. We needed to get a second alarm clock. You can therefore imagine my delight when one evening towards the end of semester I arrive home to discover that K has bought a classy white number in a similar style to the original Bringer of Noise, but which has that French sort of je-ne-sais-quoi chicness to it with fits in very nicely with her bedroom decor. I go to sleep that night safe in the knowledge that I will be awoken at an appropriate time the next morning to hightail it back to Brisbane to enjoy an afternoon transmission from the National Theatre in London of 'Frankenstien' at the Dendy Portside.

Well. I was awoken, but by a cat-to-the-face (also an excellent method of rousing yourself from slumber, although one that is a considerable deal harder to program) and not by my alarm clock. Furthermore, I discover that, unless I had been labouring under the delusion that alarm clocks do not have that rare ability to sprout legs and perform hearty jigs from one room to another, my trusty timepiece has been taken.

I decide it is merely a result of habit; and brush it off- after all, a morning study session is of slightly more import than a frivolous date with le theatre...

... But then four weeks later, when I get back from holiday, and announce my triumphant return, my alarm clock is still. not. in. my. room. It is, in fact, in K's room sitting next to her own, very frenchy, very chic alarm clock, which has no battery in it.

Exasperation does not even begin to cover it.

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Design Flaws

"I think I've found a design flaw in your dryer. My clothes seem to be more damp now than they were when they went in."

"I think I've found a design flaw in your brain. That's the washing machine."

... I'm not going to specify who found which flaw.

Cup of tea count: at a level appropriate for watching the first episode of Dr Who Series 6

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Coming out

"We're going to have to be much more entertaining now; people besides our mothers read our blog!"

"Uh-oh. QUICK; SAY SOMETHING HILARI- is that a hit from Ecuador on our stats page?!"

We never expected such performance pressure from going public...

Cup of tea count: at panic levels

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Hairstylin'

Kiki:

“I’m quite upset I can’t get my hair to stand up as much as yours.”

Nipper:

“Well, I can't help it; that’s just what happens when you have mammoths in your gene pool. We’re not sure who it was, or when it happened, but the hair don’t lie.”

Cup of tea count: A vat's worth.

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Pathology is foul

Nipper:

"Eurgh. That is just awful. Augh-god, no one's going to be banging THAT in a hurry. This Carcinoma in situ stuff is enough to put you off sex forever."

Kiki:

"Oh, oh! Look up teratoma."

"Why- is that worse?"

"No; it's not as gross."

"... JESUS CHRIST THAT IS SO MUCH WORSE. What the hell is this? Second heads on balls or something?"

"... yeah. I guess it is."

Cup of tea count: 3

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Explaining the Brain

Kiki:

“So when you touch the fire and your arm snaps back, what is actually happening is a series of messages are being transmitted from sensory neurons to the central nervous system, and then back again through the motor neurons- and all this happens faster than your brain can process the fact that it is happening. In simple terms, you’re nerves go ‘OH, Shit!’ and then a bit later your brain catches up and thinks ‘Hmm, yes. I agree.’”

Cup of tea count: approaching Medical Degree proportions

.

April Fools Gone Wrong

"What are you doing with Dr Bob?"

"I'm putting him in your bed."

"Well you can't; I'm putting him in yours."

Kiki and I just tried to pull the same prank on each other: squishing our 5ft medical skeleton into bed with the other roommate.

Cup of tea count: one each, with much laughter

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Man troubles

Kiki:

“I think Italian men are quite nice. Y’know, fire in the blood but also somehow very family oriented.”

Nipper:

“No, that’s just the Mafia you’re thinking of.”

Cup of tea count: lots. Enough to keep me awake to finish this screenwriting assignment, anyway.

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On the various Doctors of Doctor Who

Nipper:

"Yeah, I think Matt Smith's speeches are little bit more... self-confident?"

Kiki:

"Proud?"

"Yes, exactly. Sort of like 'I think I've reached the point where I just can't get any fucking better. Bring it, bitches!'"

"Mmm. I think previous doctors may have been a little bit more... humble, shall we say."

Cup of tea count: deargodweneedmoredoctorwho

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On Moths, and other crawlies.

Kiki:

“I don’t want to sleep there now; there’s moth in my bed.”

Nipper:

“Technically there’s a wing in your bed. It’s not the whole moth; more like a bit of ex-wing dust.”

“I still don’t want to sleep in there.”

“Well try to think of it as a chicken wing.”

“Why?”

“Well, wouldn’t you feel any better about sleeping on a chicken wing?”

“No. Not really. Not at all, in fact.”

“… Well then I have no words of comfort for you.”

Cup of tea count: 2

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Celebrity advertising at it's most productive

Nipper, glancing at the television:

                   "Oh, hey it's that guy... oh, whatsisface. 300. Law Abiding Citizen. That shit one with Jennifer Aniston -- Gerard Butler!

Kiki, previously studying:

                   "What? Where? I love Gerard Butler; whatever he's selling- I'll buy it!"

Cup of tea count: see here
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The screen door out the back is off it's hinges

“It’s not buggered; it’s just an interesting talking point. Like the light that goes off when you turn the fan on, or the gaping hole in my bathroom floor.”

- Kiki

Cup of tea count: 6

First Things

Hello there,

I'm Nippers: 18, single, and a Film student. I live with Kiki, my best friend of (count 'em) twelve years somewhere in the south of the north eastern bit of Australia. She's 18 and single too, but she's a Medical student. It's a good thing I'm friends with her because one of us will probably end up poor and alone in a ditch, and it won't be the doctor one, I can tell you.

Them twelve years started back home in England- er, twelve years ago. Obviously. We come from Manchester, to be precise- and don't say 'Manchester United' in that awful dim drone of vacant recognition: for one thing, we're City supporters, and for another, we hear that so much it's enough to make you want to bend the rules of physics and chew your own ear off. We were at primary school together there, and to cut a long story short, there was a lot of back and forth-ing between England and the Land Down Under until eventually we ended up living together in Australia for a bit in our school days- and now here we are in pretty much the same situation at Uni.

Mostly we're here to drink tea and keep a record of all the stupid things we've said or done, because maybe one day we'll be in need of a story to tell the grandkids, and the dementia will be making life difficult. So if you happen to stumble across this blog, and you like what you read: Congratulations! You have the maturity level of our postulated future grandchildren!