You Can't Google Whack Byron!

Miss Pringle started it all. I had never bothered to do it. It wasn't something that interested me that much. Often I would do it to my friends, but that's because they seemed, well you know more into it than me. It's not that I have a big ego that I started doing it.. of course, I aint saying I got a small ego either - kinda like patriotism, you aren't patriotic til you're out of your home country and have a few beers in ya. Anyway. I did it. First time. Miss Pringle told me that I was at the top of her list. She googled all the Ambos and added me too, and I topped it. After she googled me, she started asking weird questions.. I had to check it out. So I did. I googled myself. This is what you get: "Byron Pakula". 24 hits. Not bad I figure. Definately not a googlewhack.. what? You don't know what a google whack is? Well my friends.. why don't you google it? Googlewhack. For those who are too lazy.. it's putting two words into google and coming up with only one google hit. If you're a googlewhack, perhaps the world wide web is passing you by?

I've got two more hits coming up soon with my new gig. One of them is a bit boring, just a description of my role - blah blah blah. But the other one is kind of cool. I never get an opportunity to talk about work on my blog, for I like to keep it a bit seperate and am worried that a boss one day will track me down and give me the sack (not that I've got anything bad to say, of course..). But now, my work and my stories is in the public arena. Check out this story I wrote on an Australian Red Cross project we are doing. We are doing another camp in Galle in a week or so, I'll be there again with my camera by my side and pen in hand. Just making sure it's all going swimmingly.. hehe, I said to the doctor in charge of this project at IOM that it was going swimmingly, he got back to me the next day after consulting one of his associates, "What does swimmingly mean.. I thought the project was going well!". Ahh, we drank tea, and laughed out loud for hours on that comment. Dr. X, you are a funny funny man. Anyhoot.. I've never really done communications before, but it's kinda cool.. goes well with the other stuff I have to do. There'll be an installment on the ARC website every month on a different project we do.

Finally, my brother and brother in law got their behinds into gear and sent me some more photos of my newphew Bailley. My other brother Ash is already starting to call him Bails - he wants to turn him into a cricket fan. Here are some more photos of the lil' tacker.. but I promise, after this no more unless he is doing something cute, like throwing up over himself or bowling his first googly.
And here is the little tacker about to lose part of his little tacker. Ash doing the best he can not to drop him:

Pass the Parcel: Lyle's turn to concentrate on not dropping him...
My dad holding him while the Rabbai looks for the excess skin:
Two other things: One, does anyone know how I can archive my previous months worth of blogs to speed things up? I have tried setting it to monthly archive and it don't work. Two, we have almost reached two thousand hits. WOW! I would just like to take this opportunity to thank my adoring fans.. Emma, who hits it every day to give me hope that people are still reading it, and to all the weird dogs and insects and other things out there that I have taken photos of. I luvs ya all. If the 2000th hit can comment so I know who you are when it happens, I will make sure to give you something special.. like a reference!

Peace, Love, and 2000Googlewhacks,

B.

I Want To Be Uncle Ted!

One day at the end of class little Billy's teacher has the class go home
and think of a story and then conclude the moral of that story.
The following day the teacher asks for the first volunteer
to tell a story. Suzy said, "Sunday we load the chicken eggs on the
truck and drive into town to sell them at the market. Well, one Sunday
we hit a big bump and all the eggs flew out of the basket and onto the
road." The teacher asks for the moral of the story. Suzy replies,
"Don't keep all your eggs in one basket."

Next is little Lucy. "Well, my dad owns a farm too and every weekend we
take the chicken eggs and put them in the incubator. Last weekend only
8 of the 12 eggs hatched." The teacher asks for the moral of the story.
Lucy replies "Don't count your chickens before they're hatched."

Last is little Billy. "My uncle Ted fought in the Vietnam war; his plane
was shot down over enemy territory. He jumped out before it crashed with
only a case of beer, a machine gun and a machete. On the way down he
drank the case of beer. Unfortunately, he landed right in the middle of
100 Vietnamese soldiers. He shot 70 with his machine gun but ran out of
bullets, so he pulled out his machete and killed 20 more. The blade on
his machete broke, so he killed the last ten with his bare hands".
The teacher looks in shock at Billy and asks if there is possibly any
moral to his story. Billy replies, "Don't mess with uncle Ted when he's been drinking."

You may ask, what this long joke has to do with this blog? Not much you may think? Well, you're wrong. Uncle Ted is my hero. He fuck's with little kids and is not a priest; he also is a drunkard, which if you push the boundaries of the dictionary not so far could incorporate me too. When I grow up, I want to be just like Uncle Ted!

Now all I need to do is change my name to Ted, as since September the 11th, the fifth year anniversary of little Jimmy who turned five, oh and two big buildings falling, I am officially an uncle. Yep, my sister Candice and her lovely hubby Mr. J had their first born, a bouncy baby boy in the red corner of the super super feather weight division weighing in at 3.4kg. Here's a picture of mum and baby Bailey Ashton Lewin (this is before the ol' snip snip, he doesn't crawl around with a smile on his face anymore...):
And here's a picture of my mum and baby Bailey Ashton:

Anyway. I am just looking forward to the day baby John Doe is old enough to understand knock knock jokes, is ready to build his first slignshot, and when he is old enough for Uncle Bozza to give him his first joint. Ahh, the joys of being THAT uncle; the irresponsible outlandish uncle that parents hate and nephews/nieces love. Yes, my role in life is coming to a climax.

And other events...
Last week I was brainwashed. It was an exciting time held by all. And afterwards, I got a certificate and ended up drunk in a pool. Not significantly different to any other week really..

And before that Emma and I went to a forum theatre thing where elite Colombo singhalese people perform and show that they are against the conflict and segregation of their community. I may sound cynical, because I am, but it was a good night actually. Some really good actors..

On Saturday Night, Emma and I went to an 80's party. I went as someone living 26 years in the future, and Emma want as an 80's drugged out rock chick with track marks up her arm, green and silver punkish hair, flourescent t-shirt with ripped black top over it, and tight black jeans. We danced to Michael Jackson wearing one glove, and I danced to futuristic music that hadn't been released. This was a going away party for all the Australian Youth Ambassadors who are in their final month or so here. Here's some happy snaps of the evening!

OH MY GOD!!! A Ball! A Boon! A Ballabaloon!

The two punk rockers of the eveninng.. wow the 80's were sexy!
Is it MJ? Is it Gareth? Who knows!

And yes of course, no evening is complete without LIMBO! Amy won the event, and this photo shows why.. she could limbo while holding a plastic cup full of booze!! Two thumbs up from me!
Awww.. and here's AYAD Intake 14 (what's left). From R2L: Mingers, Nic, Jaqs, Gar Man, Embo, Amyz, and Lauren.

Finally, Emma is planning her overseas trip to India, and I'm planning to take advantage of my personal time by becoming a member of Belagio's Casino. Now all I need to do is retrace my previous druknen steps and try to find it again..

Peace, Love, and Dodgey Uncles With Too Much Time,

B.

A grasshopper walks into a bar...

and the bar tender says, "We have a drink named after you!". The grasshopper turns to the bar keep, "You have a drink named Fred?"

Boom Boom Chink.

It's been a long time between drinks for this Blog.. longer than I would like anyhoot. Though, I like to think that my lack of quantity implies a higher quality.. gives you a longer time to soak it all in. I also live in a fantasy world where the best things in life come free, like cable TV and air conditioning and dad's car. I've spent a lot of time watching west wing, my life surely is on the up.. and between episodes, if I am not too lazy, I sometimes I get up and look out the balcony to see other rooftops and hear the mongrel dogs downstairs barking and yapping away. There are lots of rats in Sri Lanka, no doubt about it.. just look at the number of road-side stalls selling "meat". But the other form of rat here is not the rat with wings known as the pidgeon, no.. they do have crows, but not quite the same. The other rat is the squirrel. It's a cute rat, but I still aint going to eat it or go near it. here's one outside my balcony during season 4 episodes 5/6 of west wing:


I like to try new things.. sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. I was at the supermarket trying to get the dude to explain what this weird shaped and even stranger coloured fruit thingymajig was. They call it a dragon fruit (oooer, so friggin' scary!!). After about 8 minutes of me saying, "I don't get it.. " and shaking my head slowly from side to side, I bought the stupid thing. There's no taste to it, but it looks really cool on the inside.. kinda like a Kiwi:


A few blogs back I posted a pic of a bright red draqgon fly. Since then, I have been speaking with my legal team about that day. They said there was nothing they could do for me.. sp I epoke with my public relations crew, and they said I should be upfront about things and put it out first.. need to beat the enemy, otherwise it looks like I am hiding things (and as per the photo below, you can see I don't hide much). I have a problem. I like crack when I am taking photos.. I'm sorry mum, I can change.. promise!!
NB: That is purposely low resolution. I don't want any strange crack fetish people out there downloading the photo and cropping it to just my $2.50 coin slot, blowing it up and then blowing themselves off. Though for $9.99, you can subscribe to byronandemma.xxx.blogspot.com and get the high res version.

While reminiscing.. here are some more photos from Ange's (AYAD Ange, not Kiwi Ange) going away party. Here's a fun story.. when I first met Ange I was drunk as a skunk outside the Aussie High com after a second thursday of some random month. I was introduced to Jo and Ange

[THIS STORY HAS BEEN CENSORED BY THE DICTATORS CENSORSHIP BOARD OF THE UNITED STATES OF WOMEN WHO SAY "OH, YOU CAN'T SAY THAT!".]

I actually wrote a really funny story that would have made everyone bar one person in this world laugh. However, after having it posted for less than 24 hours, dearest Emma read it and threatened to remove m two hairy balls with a tea spoon and some fishing wire. Now I don't know about the other guys out there, but I have become quite attached to my saggy hairy ball sack for many reasons, and I don't feel like losing them over some dodgey internet blogger story. So I've been censored. But everybody knows that censorship can't work forever. The emotions behind that story still boil within my body, and on top of that I now have resentment for women with fishing wire and spoons. This is not over.. oh hell no. This is not over by a long shot!

[AND BACK TO THE STORY...]

We've had many beers since.. ahh what good times. But now she's gone. This is everyone having fun at Zanziba at her going away...

Erm sadly, she's not actually in any of the photos. Oh well..
And so life goes on in Sri Lanka. Despite the conflict and everything else that's going on.. there's still sports. Sri Lanka has some weird sports, but one of the ones Emma seems to like is indoor volleyball. Sorry, no beaches on this tropical island (go figure). So at the rest 10th South Asian Games held in Sri Lanka, Emma and Amy whipped off to see the volleyball. I packed for a pending field trip. Emma's short, so her view looks something like this:
Later, they went court side with an awesome view and even got sweated by some of the players.


And last week, the reason for me not blogging is that I was on a week long field trip to the south and east. Was pretty cool. When I was in Hambantota (South), the weirdest thing happened though. I've never seen this before, nor my driver who has been living there his entire life. These huge winds were coming from the interior over the shrubbs and across onto the beach.. it's very dry inland , and it was ripping up the soils and creating a sand storm. This is what we had to drive through.. only for about 12 minutes before it died down:

I wasn't the only one stunned by this though.. here's our friendly grasshopper that hangs out in the office (he's standing on a divider between cubicles.. I think that's a political grasshopper with a social commentary!):
So the South might have been windy and dirty and shit, but the East is sunny and hot. This is the first time I have been back to Ampara since.. since well I don't know when, but a long time (3 months?). I stayed at Bills place, as per usual. And I met up with some of the gang. Killed some aliens or something on Playstation with Nelson. Drove some wicked cars doing some awesome takedowns with Thandi. And ate some chineese at Ol' Chineese. Oh, memories flooding back.

I did do some work though. I don't usually post about work or field trips (well not as much as I could). Basically, I try to exclude my politics and work and limit my writings to dogs having sex and other weird things. But here is a funny funny dude.. he's a mason at one of the housing sites, and he was sitting there sifting through the sand (I dunno). And all he wanted was for me to take his photo. He spoke no english, but made a lot of noise and kept smiling and shaking my hand. The photo for work I sent out is him working and sifting sand.. the photo for you guys is him two seconds later smiling and waving. I know he couldn't understand, but I did promise I would blog him:

I had a different driver this time round. He's a nice guy, and we had some beers. All good. But he's driving.... man, he's stop and go and accelerate and brake and jerking me backwards and forwards. I couldn't sleep in the vehicle, and I even brought Hank, my pillow. He likes to drive fast when he can, but not too fast for Mum to worry. But at one point we were in stop and stop traffic, and he was edging as close as possible to the car in front. Suddenly, the boom gates go down, and unlike the car in front we didn't make it across. This is a dodgey wooden boomgate resting on our big nissan patrol.. we all felt stupid that day:

I like graffiti. Here's some really nice stuff from Moriaketoria down south, at a fishing village. I think it says it all.....

Peace, Love, and Ooey Gooey Graffiti,

Byron