Promotion

I can-openered a money box full of $2, $1 and 50c coins the other day and banked several hundred "bonus" bucks. My conscience had been bugging me to donate to One Laptop Per Child since I learnt about the project in a design doco on SBS1, so tonight I transferred $490 into their coffers. That'll pay for a computer (plus set-up/maintenance) for an underprivileged kid in a remote Australian locale. The XO isn't your standard commercial laptop, though - the case, keyboard, hardware and software suite have been cleverly tailored for the task by world-class designers, at least some of 'em working pro bono. Take 10 minutes to visit laptop.org (or, for the Aussies, www.olpc.org.au) for more info. You'll find it's easy to get behind a device this durable, intuitive and potentially life-changing. If you're a better person than me - throwing dough at causes from my comfy chair - you could even volunteer.

"UFC #112" comments

I'm sure Foxtel initially advertised the wrong screening times - probably because the UFC hadn't held an event in Abu Dhabi before (or in an outside arena). I caught the 3pm replay. Anyhoo... For a middleweight, Mark Munoz grounds'n'pounds like a heavyweight; and Phil Davis is deceptively deadly, applying that D'Arce choke in textbook fashion. However, the highlight for me was Matt Hughes taking Renzo Gracie down a peg. I didn't imagine the specialist wrestler would do it with a succession of leg kicks! I think MH's mean steak was evident as he kept sending the hobbling RG to the canvas. Frankie "The Answer" Edgar lived up to his designation and demonstrated that you don't have to execute a knockout or submission on BJ Penn, you just have to outwork and outpoint him. (I really like BJ's Hawaiian entrance music, but.) As for Silva/Meia...WTF? How did this go the distance? The crowd's disapproval was apparent in their chant, which amusingly went from "Silva" to "Meia" to "GSP" (who was sitting at Octagon-side) and back to "Meia". Did Anderson exhaust himself by showboating in the Arabian humidity? Kudos to Demian for maintaining his composure during that jazz, btw. And why didn't they read the judges' scorecards prior to awarding the decision? A dodgy conclusion to a dodgy bout.

He's yapping about "Magic" again...

When mono-black Duel Deck "Phyrexia" smashed its rainbow counterpart "The Coalition" twice in a row - first with a Dark Ritual-ed Negator, then with a creature swarm - I thought it had the best-of-10 tourney in the bag. Maybe those were so-called God draws or perhaps I improved at piloting the latter pile, but "T/C" went on to win six of the following seven games with ease. The card advantage of the Battlemages, fortune reversal of attacking with an Armadillo Cloak-ed critter, stoutness of Gerrard Capashen, and aerial dominance of the three "Invasion" dragons (not forgetting the versatility of their respective Charms) was too much for the extra-planar marauders. "P."'s only other victories came as a result of an exceptionally well-timed Living Death and a protracted battle in which almost every neat black/artifact combo - eg. Phyrexian Broodlings/Hornet Cannon - was firing at once. You might retort that six games to four is closer than I'm representing...save that "The Coalition" averaged 30+ life when it won, while "Phyrexia" was usually on single figures. Nevertheless, of the five Duel Deck sets available to date, these are the most entertaining and include the juiciest selection of cards (always wanted an "Urza's Rage").


Typed to the mad strains of "Professor Bernice Summerfield And The Greatest Shop In The Galaxy" (2002).

No good deed ever went unpunished

I'm on the bus and I see this overweight, grey-haired dude with a briefcase barrelling towards the stop, calling out. I alert the driver and he waits. So of course the fellow in question staggers all the way up the aisle, ignoring the many spare seats, and squashes into the back one where two young ladies and I had previously enjoyed ample room. He then begins ranting to himself and I realise I've heard him before on this route. You wouldn't guess it from his respectable clothing/grooming, but he's a deadset lunatic. He has some hang-up about women needing to wear skirts and complains loudly when they don't. For the rest of the journey, we are forced to endure a litany of "There’s another one!", "Jeans, tracksuit pants and stockings are not allowed!" and "Why can't they wear a nice skirt with their legs uncovered?" I may be paraphrasing his nonsense – you get the gist, though. The girls in the vicinity are clearly uncomfortable, making me wish I'd ignored the bugger and just let him miss the bus. But you can't do that, can ya?

Rare form

When someone wants their steak well done, they say, "Well done, please." Then they inevitably bitch and moan because the chef refuses to ruin the meat and instead serves them a medium.

When someone – such as yours truly – desires a medium steak, they specify, "Medium, please." And that's what they receive. End of story.

But when someone wants a rare steak, they say all kinds of funny things to emphasise how little they wish the meat to be cooked. For whatever reason, these expressions tend to lodge in my mind...

"Bloody as hell!"

"Gimme a steak that was running around the paddock five minutes ago."

"It should moo when I stick a fork into it."

"Blue, thanks." (Technically, "bleu".)

"Just lead the cow through a warm room."

And my personal favourite –

"Rip off its horns, wipe its bum and slap it on a plate!"