Mind-numbing national capital

The midweek, Melbourne – Canberra run must be the biggest money-making scam this country has going; at best you might be lucky enough to snaffle a 1-way fare for about three-fitty, but in the main, you're looking at a blow-out of six-fitty and up.  I guess it's supply and demand; and charging exorbitant travel tabs to tax-payer [over-]funded execs and pollies may well be the only way to keep a fabricated city with no industry or self-sustaining infrastructure afloat.

The result of this feat of award-winning town planning is that Donkey, visiting our national capital next week for a one-and-half hour meeting, is looking down the barrel of having to kill 3 hours until after five just to escape the day within a reasonable budget.  What the hell am I going to do, other than sit in bland cafes fitted-out with generic office partitions, drinking disgusting brews at twice the price?  God Save the Governor General, indeed!

The title of this pic is "Painfully bored woman in cafe" – welcome to Canberra.  Pic: http://dailypic.co.uk

On the down-low

It’s that time of year again, and I am feeling low.  I know Melbourne winter is nothing like the perpetual darkness of, say, the London working week, nor as cold, but at this time of year, every year, I fall into the kind of funk that can’t even be overcome by the great working class escapes of beer and football.  It seems to have come early this year … I wish I could get outta here.

More coffee might help, but I am sure if I had a cardiologist, they’d be getting pretty worried about the extent to which I seek solace in that particular vice. 

More blogging might help a bit … if the fine writers out there hadn’t gotten completely over it all – why the nothing, people?  Does anyone know of anything good and reliable to read?

Urgh, I hate winter.

I hate the darkness, too.  Pic: http://www.chud.com

Ikea – it's Swedish for "Get me the f@rk outta here!"

The only thing worse than going to Ikea on a Saturday morning, is going to Ikea on a Saturday morning ... with a mission ... with a two year old!  Throw-in a red wine induced, slightly fluffy mental capacity, and needless to say my Saturday morning was like being in labour*.

It's hell!  One spends the first 20 minutes trying to drag Hambones through the one-way-maze of display lounge rooms (which not even a tradie named Sven would have been able to produce with Ikea products alone) in an attempt to get to the bed section before he goes completely bananas and rips one of the flat screen TV's off the flimsy, artificial walls.  But all your efforts are in vain as you dive to save some Swedish, faux designer vase which has been launched off a plush display couch by your talented offspring.  This, of course, releases him from your impatience- and alcohol-induced, rigor mortis grip, amd within a heartbeat, he's halfway up a towering stack of cheap wine glasses.

By the time we did make it to the beds, we were completely shagged and more or less passed-out on the Kings while the darling cherub disappears into the bathroom section to the crash and bang of falling implements. 

I've always known that Ikea on a Saturday morning was hell – it's because irresponsible, hungover parents with kids let their monsters go berserk ... now I get it.  Have a little sympathy, will ya?

Looks bad enough with a hangover – add to it a thousand screaming children, straight in from AusKick, and see how much your $3.99 Swedish meatballs are hardly suitable compensation.  Pic: http://thecuriositiesofacollegekid.blogspot.com

  

* I know, I know – I just throw it in there to get a reaction!