cornelius_sulla

Last year I worked in Samoa for a month. Whilst gaming on my laptop there during some downtime, I was handed a dish by one of my fellow workers that looked and tasted great. Without much thought to what it was and fixated as I was by my computer, I munched away merrily. Then my workmate, devilish grin on his handsome polynesian features, gave me some information that I wished, at the time, he'd kept to himself. The meat ingredient was rat. My workmate, devilish smile still evident, handed me a bucket, just in case. I was shocked for a bit, but then I thought: I've eaten opossum, goat, and probably cat from my local chinese takeout shop (who are notorious when it comes to turning a buck). My people consider the live larvae of a large land beetle as a delicacy. And before anyone told me what was in it, naturally, I thought it was chicken. Is rat really such a big deal? Once I put the ingredients out of my mind and simply ate the dish and judged it by merit of it's taste, I was fine with it. Not to mention I didn't want to give my 'friend' the satisfaction of watching me hurl. Still, if given a choice, I'd take Black Pudding over a Rat Chop Suey as a computer-ing snack any day.

I'm not sure about a top five, but I'll enter the dropping of the atomic bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima as a candidate to be up there somewhere in the top five. The dropping of those bombs irrevocably changed the world on many different levels and had a massive influence over humanity as a whole and it's future.

I'd go the cider any day/night/morning of the week, but perhaps not with black pudding. Black pudding goes with beer. Then again, in my estimation, corn flakes go with beer! I'm fond of a brand of cider called Longbow. The mouth waters just thinking about it. There's a specialty British foods shop here that makes a mean black pud, and it practically walks out the door on it's own, it's so popular. It helps when eating black pudding if you don't look at it too much or think too hard about how it's made, I reckon.

GO THE PENGUINS! I realise you may be taking the piss. I love to take the mickey out of Americans and their excessive padding too. But seriously, I've had a crack at both Rugby and American Football, and I can tell you that even with pads for Africa, the hits still hurt like buggery. Because of all the pads and the perceived protection they afford you get away with a whole lot more brutality than you do in Rugby (leading with the head in tackles, flying body checks, hits that flip you twice through the air!). The big guys also tend to be a lot bigger any bulkier than in Rugby. I was glad that I was in the offensive team. Even though I've played Gridiron, I still don't understand it!

If you're a rabbit! Beer and Nuts: Man Snacks!

Cool, Warrior. I am soooo jealous.

I can definitely see the attractions of 'The Gladiator' - if I tune out my inner Romanophile, something I find really difficult to do when I'm watching movies were the topic is Rome or Romans. You're right that it was a great bit movie for a couple of good hours entertainment. I think there should be some kind of disclaimer in the advertising - 'Not Historically Correct' or something like that, perhaps! I'm a wee bit uptight when it comes to this kind of thing, though.

Heston was a great actor, no argument there. No one could part a Red Sea better. It's just his ideas about guns and his influence concerning guns that made me think of him as an outmoded dinosaur.

Thanks to you all. I'm feeling better about this situation now having been calmed down by my family and friends, including you guys. I just really needed to get it all out and now that I have, I'm going to do something about it. Cheers to you all for being mates.

Dance like a string puppet? Drive like Steve McQueen? Elwood's to blame!

It is amazing to us here in the 21st century the levels of detachment and pragmatism that Roman nobles could achieve when either their necks or their dignitas were on the line. Cato's (Champion of The Republic) influence over nephew Brutus (unfortunate pantywaist) cannot be underestimated in this situation.

Terry Jones is my favourite even if he is considered as a talented amateur. His series 'Barbarians' was great. The man can't help but infuse his subject matter with humour, ex Python that he is. I much prefer to read history because often when you see these historians in the flesh on the telly as presenters they are about as interesting as watching paint dry. Television with all of it's focus on ratings and demographics is not a medium that lends itself well to history, in my humble opinion.

I'm a Kiwi (a New Zealander) as many of you know, and our government could sooner outlaw breathing than outlaw any kind of dairy product. They're aware of this but I'd bet two for four that the 'health specialist' who come up with this idea has now given the government a few to work on. The idea may be 'naive and impractical' now, but throw a marketing campaign at it, give it a year or two to sink into the consciousness and conscience of the populace and hey presto! Butter will be Public Enemy No.1 and politically correct mums and dads all over the country will be calling for it's abolition while their teenage sons and daughters drink to excess, mix the booze with narcotics, smash up their cars and ruin their lives. The biggest problem I foresee with the idea would be that we love butter here. As far as the majority of Kiwis are concerned, margarine is plastic. But if our government really thought it was something worth pursuing, they'd first attempt to brainwash us, then guilt trip us, and if that didn't work, they'd just ride roughshod over us.

Without Rome, there'd have been no Life of Brian, and the world would have been a much sadder place.

Try and backflip your way down the middle aisle of a church in full congregational spate! Success will mean you ain't his daughter; you're Jake reincarnate!

Good luck mate, and congratulations!

I've been through a whole heap of painful crap in my life, more than most people I know. I have always subscribed to the belief that if it the pain isn't enough to kill you, it can only make you stronger. I honestly thought that given all that I've been through, I can get through any kind of pain that comes my way. How sadly I misled myself. My children will soon be moving with their mum to another city, far away from me. I'm hurting about it, real bad, and so are my three beautiful little buttons. I love them all more than words can explain. My children and I have a bond that is so exquisitely pure in it's expression and emotion that all other forms of love I've experienced pales in comparison. To know that they won't just be down the road soon is killing me. They've been staying with me for the past week or so and every night I've had to hold them close to me, group hug styles, as their tears soak my shirt and they cry that they don't want to go far away from me and their grandmother. They wake up in the middle of the night after having nightmares about being away from me that you can see on their little faces have scared them to their cores. How do I deal with it? Gods damn me, I lie. I lie through my teeth and tell them that everything will be alright, that they'll get to see me and gran just as much as ever, I mouth platitudes that granma and I will always be in their hearts, but deep, deep down I know my kids aren't stupid and that they're agreeing with me to make me feel better. That's how lovely my little people are. As much as they are hurting and struggling to understand why this has to be, they are trying to make me feel better about it all. I've never had this kind of pain. I'll take broken bones, any kind of torture that inhumanity can come up with and gladly swap it for this. I'm using this blog to get all of this out of my head, and it's great. Thankyou, UNRV. I'm sure that most people don't get this personal with their blogs, but, quite frankly, fuck 'most people'. I need to express this stuff somehow or it's going to drive me insane. This blog entry is not a veiled cry for help. It's a filter to help me try and make sense of this fucked up bullshit. Worst of all is that I don't know what I'm going to do. I may have to move cities and just thinking of that is like staring off the edge of an abyss into the blackness. It will be very difficult for me to find work in the city that my kids are moving to. It's hardly even a city. There's not a whole lot going on down there apart from unemployment benefits (bugger that) and growing weed (bugger that, too). I say thankyou in advance to any of you who may read this and decide to offer me advice or moral support. I hope that my next entry will be a whole lot more positive.

Do you order your toast dry and white or your chickens whole and cooked? I love the blues too, Blues Sis. Albert King, Buddy Guy and Stevie Ray Vaughan live in my heart forever. I play guitar and have tried to emulate these men practically my whole life since the age 12. I fail miserably and often, (which may explain why I play in a metal band!) The Blues Brothers, what a classic. Steve Cropper is one of my guitar heroes too. His playing is a perfect example of how less can be more. I busk a lot when we have down time at work, and one of my faves is 'Sweet Home Chicago'. The four o'clock in the morning drunks just love that one. Blues sister is definitely better than Blues Daughter, or Blues Aunty, or Blues Granny! Shake that tail feather, sista!

Chin up, mate. That's some heavy shit that you're dealing with. It's good that you are taking positive steps for yourself to deal with it all. All you can do really for friends is support them the best you can where you can, but I'm sure you know that. Just try not to get down on yourself about it. There's only so much you can do before you start to internalise it all and before you know it, you're sick. I'm sure I speak for us all when I say that the UNRV community is here to support you.

Hey, that game in Florence sounds great. I've seen it on TV before, I think, and my friends and I staged a re-enactment in our living room! Cheers for calling me young - flattery will get you everywhere! Unfortunately in Rugby I'm an old, old man. Play in the seniors? Thems fighting words, sister. Once I get my walking stick, then it's time to go to the seniors! (my dad will kill me if he reads this!)

haha! I think I will!