God and Jesus were playing golf. God teed off first and hit the ball onto the green. Jesus took his shot and ended up in the rough. As they walked to Jesus' ball, he took his sand wedge out of his bag.
"Son, what do you think you are doing? That's not the right club for this shot", said God.
"Don't worry," said Jesus, " This is the club that Tiger Woods used on this very same shot when he won his first professional tournament." Sure enough, Jesus hit a great shot and ended up on the green close to the hole.
A couple of holes later, Jesus' ball ended up in a sand trap. As he pulled an iron out of his bag, God said, "Son, are you sure that is the club you want to use?"
"Take it easy," said Jesus, "This is the club that Tiger Woods used on the very same shot that won him his first Masters." Jesus took the shot and ended up on the green.
On the next tee, God hit a great shot that ended up close to the hole. Jesus teed up and hit his ball into the water.
As he walked out across the water to his ball, another golfer waked up to God and said "Who does that guy think he is, Jesus Christ?"
"No," said God sadly, shaking his head. "He thinks he's Tiger Woods."
Friday, 1 May 2009
Sunday, 19 April 2009
How Do You Keep Up With Blogs?
Nothing is more frustrating than checking your favourite blogs only to find that they haven't been updated since the last time you looked. And bookmark lists of blogs can look a lot like other bookmark lists. Surely there has to be a better way!
Well, there is and I'm going to tell you about one of my favourites: Google Reader
What is Google Reader?
Google Reader is a tool provided by our friends at Google that will keep track of your favourite blogs and let you know when one of them has changed.
Here is what my Google Reader page looks like:
From this, I know that 7 of the blogs that I've told Google Reader to keep an eye on have been updated since I last looked.
To have a look at the blogs that Google Reader is watching for me, I just double click on All Items (7) and then hit the space bar to move down the list a screen at a time. When All Items goes down to zero, I'm all caught up.
You can also see that I've organised the blogs I like into folders. If I don't have a lot of time to read blogs, I can pick which bunch I want to read first and save the rest for another time.
How do you get started using Google Reader?
If you are a total computer novice or would like to get an overview before you take the plunge, watch this tutorial. It lasts for about 10 minutes and covers lots of stuff that beginners would need to know and some that beginners won't need to know until later on. Worth a watch.
If you don't have a Google account, this tutorial will help walk you through this process. Remember that you don't have to use Gmail in order to have a Google account or to use Google Reader.
For more information about Google Reader, check out the FAQs (frequently asked questions, pronounced 'fax').
I hope you enjoy using Google Reader.
Well, there is and I'm going to tell you about one of my favourites: Google Reader
What is Google Reader?
Google Reader is a tool provided by our friends at Google that will keep track of your favourite blogs and let you know when one of them has changed.
Here is what my Google Reader page looks like:
From this, I know that 7 of the blogs that I've told Google Reader to keep an eye on have been updated since I last looked.
To have a look at the blogs that Google Reader is watching for me, I just double click on All Items (7) and then hit the space bar to move down the list a screen at a time. When All Items goes down to zero, I'm all caught up.
You can also see that I've organised the blogs I like into folders. If I don't have a lot of time to read blogs, I can pick which bunch I want to read first and save the rest for another time.
How do you get started using Google Reader?
If you are a total computer novice or would like to get an overview before you take the plunge, watch this tutorial. It lasts for about 10 minutes and covers lots of stuff that beginners would need to know and some that beginners won't need to know until later on. Worth a watch.
If you don't have a Google account, this tutorial will help walk you through this process. Remember that you don't have to use Gmail in order to have a Google account or to use Google Reader.
For more information about Google Reader, check out the FAQs (frequently asked questions, pronounced 'fax').
I hope you enjoy using Google Reader.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
Vale Westpac
After 5 and a bit years, I have finished working at Westpac. It was painful and horrible and exciting and amazing ... like most jobs where you are doing what you are good at with really, really good people.
Now, when you have been a contractor somewhere as long as I was a contractor at Westpac and left as many times as I have left, farewells get a bit embarrassing. And I've been asked to come back so many times that when I'd tell someone that I was leaving, their response was, almost to a person, "Yeah, but for how long this time? A week?"
But this time, it's for real. And as part of the farewell festivities, I organised a lunch with a very select and special group of friends I've worked with or gotten to know over the last 5 and a bit years. And, because they are my friends, I organised the lunch so that I'd be sure to be invited.
Despite the rain and way too much to do and not enough hours to do it, my friends joined me for my latest Farewell Lunch.
This mob is a classic example of One Team with Westpac, BT, St George and IBM represented by some of the best.
My thanks to each of you for making the last 5 and a bit years more fun that we probably should have had at work. And please delete my mobile number from your phones. I don't care how important or complicated or stuffed up the project is, DON'T CALL ME!!!
But if it's the Opportunity of a Lifetime ... well, you have my email address. :-)
Now, when you have been a contractor somewhere as long as I was a contractor at Westpac and left as many times as I have left, farewells get a bit embarrassing. And I've been asked to come back so many times that when I'd tell someone that I was leaving, their response was, almost to a person, "Yeah, but for how long this time? A week?"
But this time, it's for real. And as part of the farewell festivities, I organised a lunch with a very select and special group of friends I've worked with or gotten to know over the last 5 and a bit years. And, because they are my friends, I organised the lunch so that I'd be sure to be invited.
Despite the rain and way too much to do and not enough hours to do it, my friends joined me for my latest Farewell Lunch.
This mob is a classic example of One Team with Westpac, BT, St George and IBM represented by some of the best.My thanks to each of you for making the last 5 and a bit years more fun that we probably should have had at work. And please delete my mobile number from your phones. I don't care how important or complicated or stuffed up the project is, DON'T CALL ME!!!
But if it's the Opportunity of a Lifetime ... well, you have my email address. :-)
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
FINALLY!!!
Finally! A President with a brain.
Finally! A President I can respect.
Finally! I have some hope for the future.
Finally! I can feel proud to be an American.
Congratulations, Mr President.
Monday, 19 January 2009
Jon Stewart Says It Best
Jon Stewart was my constant companion during the recent Presidential campaign, and I think he says it best as we count down the final hours of the Presidency of George W Bush. Today, Monday the 19th of January. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Did You Lose It in The Divorce?
When HRH was in Year 7, aged 12, I was talking to one of her friends during school holidays. She told me about the plans she and her family had and she asked me "What are you and Em doing this school holidays?"
I said, "Well, I'm working every day so we aren't going to be doing anything special."
"Really?" she said, a surprised look on her face. "You aren't even going to spend any time at your beach house?"
"No," I answered, "we don't have a beach house."
She leaned in and, with a look of understanding that belied her years, she said, "Did you lose it in the divorce?"
I said, "Well, I'm working every day so we aren't going to be doing anything special."
"Really?" she said, a surprised look on her face. "You aren't even going to spend any time at your beach house?"
"No," I answered, "we don't have a beach house."
She leaned in and, with a look of understanding that belied her years, she said, "Did you lose it in the divorce?"
Saturday, 10 January 2009
Fun iPhone Apps
I had lunch with some friends yesterday and, as you would expect, the conversation turned to iPhones. Being a bit of a GadgetGirl, I have fallen in love with my iPhone. Not just because it looks cool, which it does, but because of the fun apps (applications) you can download for it. Why be all grown up and mature if you don't have to? So, I've decided to share some of my favourite iPhone applications to encourage all you normal iPhone owners out there to explore your Inner TechNerd.
You can download these applications to your iPhone through the App Store on iTunes and most of my favourites are free. How can you go wrong?
Lightsaber
One of the first applications I downloaded for my iPhone was Lightsaber. When you turn it on, the screen changes to a light saber, just like in the Star Wars movies, complete with sound effects. When you move your iPhone around, like you are Luke Skywalker fighting Darth Vader, it makes all the sounds of a light saber battle. And, with the latest version, you can turn on music so it's almost like being in the movie.
Too cool. Check it out.
Shazam
Ever hear a song during a TV show or on the radio and wonder what it's called and who recorded it? Your days of wondering are over.
Shazam is an application for your iPhone that listens to the song and then does a Google-like search for it in cyberspace. When it finds it, it shows you the album cover art, song title, what album it is on and who recorded it. It also gives you links to the song on iTunes and any videos on YouTube, the biography of the band and their complete discography.
Too cool Check it out.
Just a word of warning, though. Don't Shazam a song while you are driving. :-)
Nightstand
This is an application that displays the time on your iPhone like it's a digital clock. I plug mine into a small docking station on my desk or on my bedside table and use it instead of a proper clock. I turned on the Disable Auto-Lock feature under Settings and it stays on all night long. There are a couple of different display layouts and it works a treat in either horizontal or vertical orientation.
You can set alarms through the Clock app that comes with your iPhone but you might want to mute your phone before you go to bed. I find those pesky calendar reminders at midnight to be a bit of a nuisance. But the alarm will still sound even if you have muted your iPhone.
Too cool. Check it out.
You can download these applications to your iPhone through the App Store on iTunes and most of my favourites are free. How can you go wrong?
Lightsaber
One of the first applications I downloaded for my iPhone was Lightsaber. When you turn it on, the screen changes to a light saber, just like in the Star Wars movies, complete with sound effects. When you move your iPhone around, like you are Luke Skywalker fighting Darth Vader, it makes all the sounds of a light saber battle. And, with the latest version, you can turn on music so it's almost like being in the movie.Too cool. Check it out.
Shazam
Ever hear a song during a TV show or on the radio and wonder what it's called and who recorded it? Your days of wondering are over.
Shazam is an application for your iPhone that listens to the song and then does a Google-like search for it in cyberspace. When it finds it, it shows you the album cover art, song title, what album it is on and who recorded it. It also gives you links to the song on iTunes and any videos on YouTube, the biography of the band and their complete discography.Too cool Check it out.
Just a word of warning, though. Don't Shazam a song while you are driving. :-)
Nightstand
This is an application that displays the time on your iPhone like it's a digital clock. I plug mine into a small docking station on my desk or on my bedside table and use it instead of a proper clock. I turned on the Disable Auto-Lock feature under Settings and it stays on all night long. There are a couple of different display layouts and it works a treat in either horizontal or vertical orientation.You can set alarms through the Clock app that comes with your iPhone but you might want to mute your phone before you go to bed. I find those pesky calendar reminders at midnight to be a bit of a nuisance. But the alarm will still sound even if you have muted your iPhone.
Too cool. Check it out.
Friday, 9 January 2009
Pill Pollution
According to this recent article in the Sydney Morning Herald, The Vatican is holding women who take the contraceptive pill responsible for polluting the environment with excessive amounts of female hormones and, in turn, causing the decline in male fertility rates.
I am trying not to let the absolute lunacy of the Catholic Church's position detract from the irony of a bunch of celibate men who are concerned about the decline in male fertility. I'm not surprised that this bastion of male arrogance and superiority is blaming women. Misogyny has always been a critical part of The Holy See since the days of St Augustine, whose own personal problems with sex and women are an early source of this lasting legacy. How long before they blame women for global warming and the world economic crisis?
I did a bit of a Google search on male fertility and found that each source advocated a different theory as to the cause of the decline in male fertility rates, including the chemicals found in pesticides, plastics, shampoos and cosmetics as well as the chemicals found in meat. But only The Vatican is blaming women and The Pill.
Fortunately, the SMH article doesn't mention just how men in the West end up consuming the urine of women who take The Pill. Obviously, I don't hang out in the right kinky sex clubs.
Please ... don't enlighten me. :-)
I am trying not to let the absolute lunacy of the Catholic Church's position detract from the irony of a bunch of celibate men who are concerned about the decline in male fertility. I'm not surprised that this bastion of male arrogance and superiority is blaming women. Misogyny has always been a critical part of The Holy See since the days of St Augustine, whose own personal problems with sex and women are an early source of this lasting legacy. How long before they blame women for global warming and the world economic crisis?
I did a bit of a Google search on male fertility and found that each source advocated a different theory as to the cause of the decline in male fertility rates, including the chemicals found in pesticides, plastics, shampoos and cosmetics as well as the chemicals found in meat. But only The Vatican is blaming women and The Pill.
Fortunately, the SMH article doesn't mention just how men in the West end up consuming the urine of women who take The Pill. Obviously, I don't hang out in the right kinky sex clubs.
Please ... don't enlighten me. :-)
Thursday, 1 January 2009
Monday, 8 December 2008
Is This Funny?
Something happened and I wanted to check to see if I'm the only one who thinks this is funny.
Last week, the company I work for hosted a number of events this week as part of Don't DIS my ABILITY, a celebration of people with disabilities, part of International Day of People with a Disability. It was pretty cool, especially the morning when the lobby was full of puppies that were being trained to become seeing-eye dogs and helper dogs. Very impressive what these dogs can do. But I digress ...
On Friday, they were handing out goody bags at lunch time with printed information about people with disabilities (some of it I already knew about and some was surprisingly interesting) and some little pressies. For example, my boss's Disability Week goody bag had a 'safe' candle in it, a plastic candle with a battery inside it. The candle lights up when the base is turned one way and goes out when you turn the base the other way.
My Disability Week goody bag had a pedometer in it. That didn't work. So I got the battery replaced and it still doesn't work. So, to summarise, for International Day of People with a Disability, I got a pedometer that has a permanent disability.
OK, maybe I'm the only person who thinks that is funny ...
Last week, the company I work for hosted a number of events this week as part of Don't DIS my ABILITY, a celebration of people with disabilities, part of International Day of People with a Disability. It was pretty cool, especially the morning when the lobby was full of puppies that were being trained to become seeing-eye dogs and helper dogs. Very impressive what these dogs can do. But I digress ...
On Friday, they were handing out goody bags at lunch time with printed information about people with disabilities (some of it I already knew about and some was surprisingly interesting) and some little pressies. For example, my boss's Disability Week goody bag had a 'safe' candle in it, a plastic candle with a battery inside it. The candle lights up when the base is turned one way and goes out when you turn the base the other way.
My Disability Week goody bag had a pedometer in it. That didn't work. So I got the battery replaced and it still doesn't work. So, to summarise, for International Day of People with a Disability, I got a pedometer that has a permanent disability.
OK, maybe I'm the only person who thinks that is funny ...
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Jewish Haiku
My thanks to Shirley for these. --MG Her lips near my ear,
Aunt Sadie whispers the name
Of her friend's disease. *****
So much to ask from a child
After all I've done?
*****
Today, mild shvitzing.
Tomorrow, so hot you'll plotz.
Five-day forecast: feh
*****
Yenta. Shmeer. Gevalt.
Shlemiel. Shlimazl. Meshug anah
Oy! To be fluent!
*****
Quietly murmured
At Saturday Synagogue services,
Yanks 5, Red Sox 3.
*****
A lovely nose ring,
Excuse me while I put my
Head in the oven.
****
Hard to tell under the lights.
White Yarmulke or
Male-pattern baldness
*****
Lacking fins or tail
The gefilte fish swims with
Great difficulty.
*****
Beyond Valium,
Peace is knowing one's child
Is an internist.
*****
On Passover we
Opened the door for Elijah
Now our cat is gone.
*****
After the warm rain
The sweet smell of camellias
Did you wipe your feet?
*****
Aunt Sadie whispers the name
Of her friend's disease.
*****
Today I am a man.
Tomorrow I will return
To the seventh grade.
Testing the warm milk
On her wrist, she sighs softly.
But her son is forty.
*****
The sparkling blue sea
Reminds me to wait an hour
After my sandwich.
*****
Like a bonsai tree,
Is your terrible posture
At my dinner table.
*****
Jews on safari --
Map, compass, elephant gun,
Hard sucking candies.
*****
The same kimono
The top geishas are wearing:
I got it at Loehmann's.
*****
Mom, please! There is no
Need to put that dinner roll
In your pocketbook.
*****
Seven-foot Jews in
The NBA slam-dunking!
My alarm clock rings.
*****
Sorry I'm not home
To take your call. At the tone
Please state your bad news.
*****
So much to ask from a child
After all I've done?
*****
Today, mild shvitzing.
Tomorrow, so hot you'll plotz.
Five-day forecast: feh
*****
Yenta. Shmeer. Gevalt.
Shlemiel. Shlimazl. Meshug anah
Oy! To be fluent!
*****
Quietly murmured
At Saturday Synagogue services,
Yanks 5, Red Sox 3.
*****
A lovely nose ring,
Excuse me while I put my
Head in the oven.
****
Hard to tell under the lights.
White Yarmulke or
Male-pattern baldness
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Saturday, 9 August 2008
The Dreaded ManFlu
Women sometimes feel that we are the disadvantaged ones ... we tend to earn less than men ... we carry a disproportionate amount of carer responsibilities ... we are more likely to be the victims of domestic violence. But all that pales to insignificance in the face of The Dreaded ManFlu.
I have never understood the suffering that men have to endure once they fall victim to ManFlu. My husband suffered from it from time to time, as even the strongest men will do, and I showed a remarkable lack of sympathy.
During one particularly trying bout of ManFlu, I suggested that my husband would be better off in hospital. He told me that Royal North Shore Hospital simply wasn't equipped to deal with such a debilitating and virulent strain of ManFlu. It would be safer for the staff, patients and, indeed, the general public if he stayed at home in bed. In hindsight, given recent headlines featuring RNSH in a very uncomplimentary light, I have to admit that he probably wasn't too far wrong.
Another time, after a rather prolonged bout of whinging and wimpering requests for succor, I simply lost the plot and handed him his AMEX card and the phone, saying "QANTAS flights land and take off every day. Call your mother and get her out here!"
"But, Mag," he barely had the strength to whisper, "I need your love and tender care to get me through this."
To which, I replied, as kindly as I could manage while looking him straight in the eye, "Honey, you are gonna die."
You won't be too surprised when I tell you that that marriage ended in divorce.
But the intense suffering of the victims of ManFlu was again brought to my attention recently when some of the guys at work came down with it. One by one, they fell victim to more pain and suffering than any individual outside of Guantanamo Bay or a Super Tuesday state should be forced to endure.
The fact that I've been sick with flu for two weeks and missed a couple of days of work seems to count for very little. I was informed by a particularly acute sufferer of ManFlu that ManFlu germs (or virus ... the victims barely have the strength to debate that one) are so highly evolved that they won't even try to infect a Mere Woman. It would surely kill her instantly and, if women started dying at the obviously high rates that would result from ManFlu infection, that could put the entire species at risk, including future generations of men. And where would that leave the ManFlu?
Clever bastards, these ManFlu germs.
I confess that I have been enjoying their suffering more than I should. Particularly the special kind of Male Measuring Ritual that accompanies ManFlu: the comparison of symptoms to see who is sicker or suffering more or closer to imminent and painful death. The first liar doesn't stand a chance. There is barely a dry eye in the house ... from anyone listening to them carry on.
But, from what I gather, the ManFlu germs mutate almost constantly, pushing their victims to new heights of misery and suffering. And the only way to ensure that they can survive is for we Mere Women to show them the sympathy and the compassion that they so richly deserve.
Gentlemen, you are gonna die.
Update 14 August 2008: It has been pointed out that I have been remiss in giving credit where credit is due. I would like to thank Rob Creek for inspiring this post. Without his pain and suffering, the world would have been a much duller place.
You will be relieved to know that he has not only made a miraculous recovery from The Dreaded Man Flu, but completed the City to Surf with a very respectable time and will be running in the top group in next year's race.
I have never understood the suffering that men have to endure once they fall victim to ManFlu. My husband suffered from it from time to time, as even the strongest men will do, and I showed a remarkable lack of sympathy.
During one particularly trying bout of ManFlu, I suggested that my husband would be better off in hospital. He told me that Royal North Shore Hospital simply wasn't equipped to deal with such a debilitating and virulent strain of ManFlu. It would be safer for the staff, patients and, indeed, the general public if he stayed at home in bed. In hindsight, given recent headlines featuring RNSH in a very uncomplimentary light, I have to admit that he probably wasn't too far wrong.
Another time, after a rather prolonged bout of whinging and wimpering requests for succor, I simply lost the plot and handed him his AMEX card and the phone, saying "QANTAS flights land and take off every day. Call your mother and get her out here!"
"But, Mag," he barely had the strength to whisper, "I need your love and tender care to get me through this."
To which, I replied, as kindly as I could manage while looking him straight in the eye, "Honey, you are gonna die."
You won't be too surprised when I tell you that that marriage ended in divorce.
But the intense suffering of the victims of ManFlu was again brought to my attention recently when some of the guys at work came down with it. One by one, they fell victim to more pain and suffering than any individual outside of Guantanamo Bay or a Super Tuesday state should be forced to endure.
The fact that I've been sick with flu for two weeks and missed a couple of days of work seems to count for very little. I was informed by a particularly acute sufferer of ManFlu that ManFlu germs (or virus ... the victims barely have the strength to debate that one) are so highly evolved that they won't even try to infect a Mere Woman. It would surely kill her instantly and, if women started dying at the obviously high rates that would result from ManFlu infection, that could put the entire species at risk, including future generations of men. And where would that leave the ManFlu?
Clever bastards, these ManFlu germs.
I confess that I have been enjoying their suffering more than I should. Particularly the special kind of Male Measuring Ritual that accompanies ManFlu: the comparison of symptoms to see who is sicker or suffering more or closer to imminent and painful death. The first liar doesn't stand a chance. There is barely a dry eye in the house ... from anyone listening to them carry on.
But, from what I gather, the ManFlu germs mutate almost constantly, pushing their victims to new heights of misery and suffering. And the only way to ensure that they can survive is for we Mere Women to show them the sympathy and the compassion that they so richly deserve.
Gentlemen, you are gonna die.
Update 14 August 2008: It has been pointed out that I have been remiss in giving credit where credit is due. I would like to thank Rob Creek for inspiring this post. Without his pain and suffering, the world would have been a much duller place.
You will be relieved to know that he has not only made a miraculous recovery from The Dreaded Man Flu, but completed the City to Surf with a very respectable time and will be running in the top group in next year's race.
Sunday, 6 July 2008
Irritating Catholics
World Youth Day kicks off here in Sydney soon and the preparations are now in full swing. It is expected to be bigger than the Olympics or APEC. To keep the peace, our state parlaimentarians have passed a law that imposes a $5000 fine ($5500 including GST) for irritating Catholics. I'm not making this up ... read it for yourself.
You have to admire politicians for passing a law making it illegal to be irritating. I personally didn't think that they had it in them, especially our state premier, Morris Iemma or any one of his front benchers. Of course, the irony is probably lost on them completely. But the voters know.
And who else would citizens of a democracy so meekly give up our civil rights for? Muslims? Hindus? No, only Catholics. And, yes, we could invest that $90million in the future of everyone in New South Wales and spend it on schools, hospitals, roads, the poor, the mentally ill. But no, we'll spend it on venues and security and road closures for 5 days in July. So many young people ... so few condoms. The mind boggles.
One of my favourite stores, REMO, has set up their web site to allows anyone to design their own Tshirt to commemorate this big event and the rest of us to vote on our favourites. You can even buy one of your very own.
In keeping with that long standing Australian tradition of thumbing your nose at those in positions of authority ... what can I say, it's a convict colony thing ... some of my fellow REMO fans have taken advantage of this to create Tshirts ranging from very positive to wickedly clever. Check it out.
My personal favourites? The Pope Mobile, Annoying Catholics, Closed and Sydney Popera House. They are also some of the most popular ones, voted on here.
And, on the TV show, The Gruen Transfer, they asked some advertising executives for some slogans for the Pope's visit. And here's what they came up with.
Where are the Chasers when you need them?
You have to admire politicians for passing a law making it illegal to be irritating. I personally didn't think that they had it in them, especially our state premier, Morris Iemma or any one of his front benchers. Of course, the irony is probably lost on them completely. But the voters know.
And who else would citizens of a democracy so meekly give up our civil rights for? Muslims? Hindus? No, only Catholics. And, yes, we could invest that $90million in the future of everyone in New South Wales and spend it on schools, hospitals, roads, the poor, the mentally ill. But no, we'll spend it on venues and security and road closures for 5 days in July. So many young people ... so few condoms. The mind boggles.
One of my favourite stores, REMO, has set up their web site to allows anyone to design their own Tshirt to commemorate this big event and the rest of us to vote on our favourites. You can even buy one of your very own.
In keeping with that long standing Australian tradition of thumbing your nose at those in positions of authority ... what can I say, it's a convict colony thing ... some of my fellow REMO fans have taken advantage of this to create Tshirts ranging from very positive to wickedly clever. Check it out.
My personal favourites? The Pope Mobile, Annoying Catholics, Closed and Sydney Popera House. They are also some of the most popular ones, voted on here.
And, on the TV show, The Gruen Transfer, they asked some advertising executives for some slogans for the Pope's visit. And here's what they came up with.
Where are the Chasers when you need them?
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