It is 2.30 am in Western Australia right now. Yesterday I decided to clean out my garage as it was becoming a real shit-hole. Kid's toys, empty boxes, old stuff that never gets used, you all know what I'm talking about, except of course the anally retentive among you who would never allow such shit in your garage unless it had a designated spot. I admire such organised people but sadly my kids have no such traits and throw anything and everything in there that they can't think of anywhere else to put. Does that sentence make sense? Well it does at 2.30 am. Anyway, I digress. The garage was in a shit state: In my wisdom, and because I'm on holiday for 2 weeks mainly to look after previously mentioned un-anally retentive children as they are on the final two weeks of their school summer holidays, I thought it a good time to sort it. I'll return to anally retentive later! I thought, in order to maintain a tidy space it was important to get as much stuff off the floor as possible. I duly erected 2 large shelves to get said stuff off the floor: Now, I don't obviously know how many of you have been to Western Australia but its a very dry and dusty part of the world, particularly the southern half of the state in summer time. The wind picks up in the afternoon, or arvo, to any Aussies reading, and covers everything in a film of dust and fine sand. If you stand still long enough you too will be covered. Also, lots of leaves and garden debris had blown in over time and the place had become a haven for insects, spiders and even had a small wasps nest inside. Enough is enough I thought. This is no place for my trusty and loyal wee Strom to rest up. The sweeping brush was out and while Mrs went off to the gym, I swept out some of the garage, insect kill spray in hand in case of emergencies- there are some nasty buggers over here you know, and pretty much everything is keen to see what you taste like. About an hour and an extremely dry throat later I decided it was time for my first beer. I deserved it FFS! It was cold, it was wet, it was German. It went down beautifully. I am still talking about beer! I carried on sweeping, swallowing dust, insect spray and the occasional swig of the cold German to wash it all down. Time soon came for me to put my brush down and retire for the evening. One more beer I thought. A nice treat as I watched The Bank Job with Mrs. Great movie incidentally! Soon it was time for bed. Out like a light. Mrs couldn't even tempt me with her wylie ways. That bit is made up actually. Unfortunately after 13 years of wedded bliss, best years of my life of course, there is little or no tempting, wylie or otherwise, these days! Then it came to me! The pain. First I didn't want to wake. I fought it. But the dull ache became a sharp burning sensation, a bit like someone had pushed a red hot poker up my arse and into my abdominal cavity. I knew the signs and with much glee I jumped out of bed and made the lonely but fast walk to the loo. I'm not convinced it was the beer that did it, maybe a combination of the West Aussie dust, fly spray and the cold German but that is why I am writing this crap at now 3.10 am. At least no-one can call me anally retentive today!
I've never had my nose near a Koala's arse but I suppose it's possible as they eat eucalyptus leaves. They are also known as Drop Bears and can be very aggressive and dangerous. They have been known to kill small children and midgets so smelling a Koala's arse is not advisable!
Hilarious! No, it probably wasn't the beer that did it. I have had some pretty bad gas (no, it didn't smell like cough drops) from combining beer and ice cream, though. The closest I come to mixing dairy and beer now is cream stout. I cleaned out my garage the same way you did last year, by adding some shelves. Unfortunately, the floors have filled up again, so now I have junk floor to ceiling! Consider yourself warned...
Beer update: While sat minding my own business last night and reading various posts on ADVrider (great toilet reading for the discerning biker) my 9 year old son sneaked through to my toilet. Now, he moves like a feckin ghost and is undetectable to the human ear. As I was engrossed in my reading, the first I knew he was there was when he said "you ok Dad?" I would have shit myself with fright had I not already been shitting myself. I told him to jump into my bed and go back to sleep. I wasn't sure how that would work as the toilet fan was noisily working overtime desperately trying to draw some clean air into the loo, but thought it a classier option than a middle of the night conversation while I was dealing with another matter! Anyway, shortly after, I stood up and held on to the wall for a minute or so to allow some blood back into my now dead legs (all toilet readers have been there) and to stop me falling over when I took my first tentative steps back to bed! Got to the bed and it turns out my 10 year old daughter was also in there snuggled next to Mum. My daughter clearly has a little more decorum than my son, having had no desire to visit me in the toilet! No room at the inn for me then. Off to the spare room it was. Probably a good move so as to prevent any further disruption should I be called away again. Sleep came quickly, but after what felt like moments I was awaken by Mrs. She was looking very sultry and I thought "way hey, your luck is in here!" In my "lack of sleep induced daze" I'd momentarily forgotten the events of earlier and sadly mistook tired for sultry. She hadn't had much sleep either as the kids had been very restless through the night whilst in bed with her and she'd just got up to get ready for work. "Kettle is on" she said lovingly, which is generally my cue to get up and make a cup of tea. Tea it was then and both kids still fast asleep in my bed!
