tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64258009927893616152023-11-16T22:45:18.401+11:00Reservoir Dad Has Moved To www.reservoirdad.comReservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-69219321048691638752010-02-24T14:05:00.012+11:002010-02-25T00:14:10.072+11:00Most Mentally Sexy Update<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Movement</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is changing the world and all I can say is it's about time because although I have always been a fan of the catch-cry 'A woman can do anything a man can do' I think it's about time the men got their chance to turn it around and say 'A man can do anything a woman can do' and yes, that includes washing, ironing and raising children. <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I am so heavy with pride that I may need to start doing some pelvic floor exercises. </span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Some exciting news for </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Most Mentally Sexy Competition</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KJfEN7XtRGvx22dm7RtHlFDhZR46j93zWuoV1ilEcLnBvyqXXakSi_K3mKi5YW-tOS8e6QYKzRSOxq4n1EXLJdH1gzEx5oIlE7cgBjMcV0S10_sAKDK6mW5maxbRy9uXD9-qRMVaGiJe/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KJfEN7XtRGvx22dm7RtHlFDhZR46j93zWuoV1ilEcLnBvyqXXakSi_K3mKi5YW-tOS8e6QYKzRSOxq4n1EXLJdH1gzEx5oIlE7cgBjMcV0S10_sAKDK6mW5maxbRy9uXD9-qRMVaGiJe/s200/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441674345874529426" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1. I am super excited to welcome </span></span><a href="http://www.catherinedeveny.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Catherine </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Deveny</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to Reservoir Dad as the first </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy Judge</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">! Catherine is a television comedy writer, stand-up comedian, author, social commentator, broadcaster and columnist in </span></span><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Age newspaper</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<br /><br />Dads, you'll need to make your entries sharp if you're going to impress Catherine. She is a funny, insightful, prolific writer who could tear Reservoir Dad apart with the effortless flick of her wit.<br /><br />2. Suzanne Robson from </span></span><a href="http://melbourne-leader.whereilive.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Leader Newspaper</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> contacted me yesterday. Apparently the first story on </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Most Mentally Sexy Competition</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> received such overwhelming positive feedback that they have no choice but to run a follow-up article in a few weeks. I am pleased to say it will include a pictorial spread of some of the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy Contestants</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. The Northern Suburbs of Melbourne are rupturing with Mental Sexiness and there's nothing anyone can do about it.<br /><br />3. Joe </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Schatz</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, author of '</span></span><a href="http://www.daddywheresyourvagina.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Daddy, Where's Your Vagina</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">' and founder of </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dad-Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, has been working tirelessly on the new Reservoir Dad website and its unveiling is imminent. To this old dog of a website, which has served me well for over two years, I'd like to say, 'Move over, you're shit.'<br /><br />The new website is so good. Last night, while staring at it and listening to </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8q2WS6ahCnY"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Cherish</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I lost several hours of sleep, just as I did several times in my early teens staring at a poster-size picture of my first girlfriend, </span></span><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madonna_%28entertainer%29" title="Madonna (entertainer)" rel="wikipedia"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Madonna</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<br /><br />I'd be very grateful if you could help me to thank Joe by purchasing a copy of his great book </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Daddy-Wheres-Vagina-Learned-Stay-at-home/dp/1441583955/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1267007706&sr=8-1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<br /><br />4. I have been so busy preparing the articles on the new site, as well as fielding calls and emails, and staring at my computer screen, and maintaining a semi-decent house and child-rearing schedule, that I won't be able to post my usual Friday ramble this week.<br /><br />In its place I will do one of two things - unveil the new website, or if that's still not quite ready, </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">repost</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> the first article that spawned the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Revolution</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<br /><br />5. If you'd like to see the Northern Dads Group Round Table Discussion of the term </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, go </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/parenting/fatherhood/1428-the-ndg-round-table-discussion-part-1.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<br /><br />6. Keep an eye on </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Search For America’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/mentally-sexy/vote-for-sexiest-dad.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. They're getting some great entries and they will do their best to take the World Title away from us.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">7. There is now a fan page at </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><a class="zem_slink" href="http://facebook.com/" title="Facebook" rel="homepage"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Facebook</span></span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> titled </span></span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Search-For-Australias-Most-Mentally-Sexy-Dad/306012771233?ref=ts"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Search For Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Please visit, become a fan and suggest that all your </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Facebook</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> friends become fans too. Don't miss out on this crazy ride.<br /><br />This is the way to the new world, Dads. Get on board, or get left behind.</span></span><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="margin-top:10px;height:15px"><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-17960059520828935862010-02-22T11:13:00.006+11:002010-02-22T11:26:23.002+11:00Mentally Sexy Monday - Brad<div style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:180%;" >Brad</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLt7B3JlpsI2AVHQNZrPXX3qsV5BBPObgdS6cu5VTeYoxoMjWC7WC5wPuF3YgYTI0_z5w5Y-rt8qRQhE_GiSFMf_nbaWJDYhdacNERisf5G3XqKqz-Xi2PSB7YUULoPtlQLLASht8Tysw6/s1600-h/Picture+548.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLt7B3JlpsI2AVHQNZrPXX3qsV5BBPObgdS6cu5VTeYoxoMjWC7WC5wPuF3YgYTI0_z5w5Y-rt8qRQhE_GiSFMf_nbaWJDYhdacNERisf5G3XqKqz-Xi2PSB7YUULoPtlQLLASht8Tysw6/s400/Picture+548.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440854646798966578" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Brad is the father of Georgia, 2 and Nate, 4 months.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >"I’m Australia’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad because I know that work doesn’t just happen from nine to five, five days a week. My wife doesn’t get to knock off at five and veg out, so why should I? There is a lot of work associated with raising a family.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >When I get home, I put the bags down and I’m into it. I’ll clean up around the house, stack the dishwasher, bath the kids, cook a few days a week, whatever’s going. The day ends when the kids are in bed and things are in shape.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >It works because if I’m sharing the load with my wife we both get a little bit more time for each other at the end of the night and it means there’s not as much to do on weekends, so that we can both get out with the kids and have some fun.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >In the picture I am at the Children’s Farm with my daughter, Georgia."</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >_____________________________________________</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Nice work, Brad.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >This Wednesday - Mentally Sexy Updates.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span></span><ul><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Go </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/reservoir-dads-search-for-most-mentally.html">here</a></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > to see all other contestants.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Go </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/03/home-dadding-beginning-dans-story-part_23.html">here</a></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > for the official rule page, with details on how to submit your (or your partners) entry.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Go </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2008/09/northern-dads-group-guest-blogger-3.html">here</a></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > for the official pictorial guide to the Reservoir Dad Most Mentally Sexy Competition Clothing.</span></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Check in on Fridays for </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/stay-at-home-meltdown.html">my usual ramble</a></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >.</span></span></li></ul><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /></span>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-59225575717305332692010-02-15T09:03:00.005+11:002010-02-15T11:15:08.659+11:00Mentally Sexy Monday - Garry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5USj7aknaqazKSjacjTM-XyDmWjY_8InR6EXB25ik4JcUk4cS8xTNGG9k2D04PxsOstITOXRiI22YYD0VFmXNVtS6-AQ8hI6J7-4u-Su4t_UBDRhghmPIkuJKTL7phVtDVB4YT9KaamPf/s1600-h/Picture+495.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5USj7aknaqazKSjacjTM-XyDmWjY_8InR6EXB25ik4JcUk4cS8xTNGG9k2D04PxsOstITOXRiI22YYD0VFmXNVtS6-AQ8hI6J7-4u-Su4t_UBDRhghmPIkuJKTL7phVtDVB4YT9KaamPf/s200/Picture+495.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438248566569371778" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Americans are finally getting their act together – <a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/">Dad-Blogs</a> has received some <a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/reviews/mentally-sexy/reviews_s33/">very good submissions</a> and the global battle to be crowned the World’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad is going full steam ahead.<br /><br />Reservoir Dad has also received several more submissions for <i>The Search For Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad</i> and if they continue to roll in at this rate, we may have to start putting up more than one entry per week. I promise you this though – no legitimate entry will miss out on having a shot at the title. Even if we receive 100 submissions I will find a way to feature them all.<br /><br />Since the <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/crazy-week-at-reservoir-dad.html">recent publicity</a> for the competition, I’ve been asked several times what the official definition of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is. To me, the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Man</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is one who takes responsibility in maintaining the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">passion</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in his relationship.<br /><br />One of the greatest aphrodisiacs for women is being desired? Yep, I think I read that somewhere… and so it would follow that a man, in a committed relationship, who is pitching in with the housework and child-rearing, to allow more time for intimacy, is displaying to his wife, in a very practical, visual way, that he still desires her very much. I call that a win win for both husband and wife.<br /><br />Let’s not shy away from the importance of a good sex life in a happy marriage. I am no Maureen Matthews (sex columnist, </span></span><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sunday Age</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">) but I’m pretty certain that sex, in itself, is a very good thing. Frequent sex between couples increases the likelihood of happiness, as well as improves intimacy between couples, boosts self-esteem and even improves health by relieving stress, boosting immunity and reducing the risk of cardiovascular disease (look it up) – all these things are very helpful when you’re doing your best, in a cluttered world, to give you and your partner the greatest chance at a happy, passionate marriage<br /><br />There is some tongue-in-cheek involved in this competition, of course, and we want to have as much fun with it as possible, but let’s not forget that what we are promoting here, in the end, are good Husbands, good Dads, great men.<br /><br />In other news –</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />• I am going to leave Mondays free for new contestants from this day forward and include other developments and news about the competition in the new </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Update</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> which will be posted on Tuesdays.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />• Every Wednesday, I will include a </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Tip/Quote Of The Week</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Feel free to email Reservoir Dad - reservoirdad@gmail.com - if you have any quotes or tips yourself, or if you’ve come across any that you’ve read in the newspapers, or heard on the radio, or seen on TV.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />• I am in the process of designing a website for Reservoir Dad, with the help of </span></span><a href="http://www.daddywheresyourvagina.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Joe Schatz</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, co-founder of </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dad-Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. I hope you like it when you see the end result.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />• You’ll notice the change in heading from </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday – The Search For Australia’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Monday</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. I did that because it just makes sense.<br /><br />Now, to today’s Mentally Sexy entrant –<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000066;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Garry</b></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijwhYH46pxCq-kdsTeQeZIn2_i9I4N7Pu2oD9HMKlcGceyMCEplWHVi4bj5cz0WDlHeUzqG8q3awgQZTUt5HIbEAHVfAvbpLCqA2uyEGspIcyCKM8dHxD99D0yuJq67uV_qzSixHe993a/s1600-h/Picture+557.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijwhYH46pxCq-kdsTeQeZIn2_i9I4N7Pu2oD9HMKlcGceyMCEplWHVi4bj5cz0WDlHeUzqG8q3awgQZTUt5HIbEAHVfAvbpLCqA2uyEGspIcyCKM8dHxD99D0yuJq67uV_qzSixHe993a/s400/Picture+557.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438247533891749458" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Garry is the father of Emmett, 3, and Milly, 1, and he offered us this -</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />"This isn’t the only example of my </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mental Sexiness</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> but I think it’s a good one because it highlights many of my </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> skills.<br /><br />Put simply, I made my son’s birthday cake. And on it’s own that may not seem like much. But there is more than flour and egg in this cake.<br /><br />Inside this cake there is an </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">awareness of my wife’s needs</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – she eats organic and so I had to find only natural ingredients. The icing is natural, the coloring is natural and there is nothing artificial in the sprinkles.<br /><br />Inside this cake there is my high level of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">commitment</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to my wife and family. I stayed up until midnight making it – there is nothing I won’t do for my son and my family. My wife was also freed of another responsibility, and after preparing for the party, which was on the following day, was able to go to bed early and get some needed rest.<br /><br />Inside this cake there is </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">love</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Love cracked the eggs and mixed the ingredients. Love fashioned the shark from the slab of cake. Love bent over the shark with a warm knife and applied the icing.<br /><br />Inside this cake is </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">pride</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in myself, in my family. As you can see I was the proudest Dad in the world carrying the cake that I made out to my son’s birthday.<br /><br />As far as being sexy to my wife, the only thing I could have done to be any sexier was to jump out of </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">that cake in a g-string."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Go </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/reservoir-dads-search-for-most-mentally.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to see all other contestants.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Go </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/03/home-dadding-beginning-dans-story-part_23.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for the official rule page, with details on how to submit your (or your partners) entry.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Go </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2008/09/northern-dads-group-guest-blogger-3.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for the official pictorial guide to theReservoir Dad Most Mentally Sexy Competition Clothing.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Check in on Fridays for my </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/trauma-and-reward-archies-fifth.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">usual ramble</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></li></ul><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote></blockquote><p></p><br /></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-17460015291319669072010-02-11T16:53:00.005+11:002010-02-11T17:48:11.142+11:00The Preston Leader and The Red Symons Breakfast Show<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUn0CDW2gXoy3dHPeqDJdc4YUTGW0i8R4u3qUJWyI_tTD_jy7WznS9QmxUqHAmPHziCS3P1zZjZZu19MhxHteeIc3sdiWv-xoKbHvTotDjH8pl0gL0LeWtup5JnBj3R7nHFPGO1onG5bD/s1600-h/rdarticle.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUn0CDW2gXoy3dHPeqDJdc4YUTGW0i8R4u3qUJWyI_tTD_jy7WznS9QmxUqHAmPHziCS3P1zZjZZu19MhxHteeIc3sdiWv-xoKbHvTotDjH8pl0gL0LeWtup5JnBj3R7nHFPGO1onG5bD/s400/rdarticle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436855183621885218" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A crazy week at Reservoir Dad. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">First </span></span><a href="http://preston-leader.whereilive.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Preston Leader</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Article appeared featuring Reservoir Dad in <i>Most Mentally Sexy underwear</i> on the FRONT PAGE. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Then I received a call from the </span></span><a href="http://www.abc.net.au/melbourne/programs/melbourne_breakfast/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Red Symons Breakfast Radio show on 774</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, and before I know it, I'm on air, waffling about The </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy Competition</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and topping it all off by asking <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Symonds">Red Symons</a> when we can expect to see his <i>Mentally Sexy</i> entry. He responded by coughing a couple of times and ending the interview.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Since all this media attention the Reservoir Dad blog has received a steep increase in traffic, some more <i>Mentally Sexy Entries</i> and a hell-of-a-lot of inquiries. I will address a few common questions here -</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1. You can follow this link to find </span></span><a href="http://leader.newspaperdirect.com/epaper/viewer.aspx"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Preston Leader e-paper</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> with the picture of me and Archie on the front page. The article is on page 5. I'm really looking forward to seeing how the neighbors react to this... not to mention the kids swimming instructors and teachers. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">2. It</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> okay for wives and partners to nominate their husbands as the <i>Most Mentally Sexy Dad</i> and enter on their behalf.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">3. We </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">do</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> have prizes. Just yesterday we had a brand new </span></span><a href="http://www.apple.com/ipodshuffle/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">IPod Shuffle</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> donated as a prize to give to </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. We also have </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad Finalist 2010</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> T-Shirts for the top 5, donated by </span></span><a href="http://www.grashan.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">GRASHAN - The Screen Printing Experts</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. And we are working on others. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">4. We do </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">not</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> have a prize organised for </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The World's Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> just yet, but we are working on that with </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dad-Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and will announce it as soon as we have it. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">5. Some more </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Clothing</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is being printed as we speak, and I will have a variety of sizes to fit all <i>Mentally Sexy Entrants</i>. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">6. We're getting some great entries and all will be revealed over the coming weeks. The Americans are starting to shake in their boots, as you can see in </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/profile/community-news/1393-the-australian-dads-take-the-lead.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">this article</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. I urge you to keep the pressure on them, Aussie Dads. Be </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">creative, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">b</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">daring <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">and l</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ift your <i>Mentally Sexy Skills</i> to a new level.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This is the brave new world. Get on board or get left behind.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-52500645174930122002010-02-10T08:20:00.008+11:002010-02-23T13:33:43.064+11:00Reservoir Dad's Search for The Most Mentally Sexy - The Story So Far<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Click on the names of contestants to see their official entries.</span></span><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The Beginning</span></span></b></span></a></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUWcwr2KlbozlvHZhs_tpre6ViT8FQQvBlWILG3JMIIYohyphenhyphenk2RjDpf2Djg7ndp3_AEFCsuuL2cqBjvSUTOMtallII9eiJoZ3R1d4OBsTtgZpeTQaAhd6amUAiPDLEl1PPmbuWvbLXRpmNw/s1600-h/Picture+009.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUWcwr2KlbozlvHZhs_tpre6ViT8FQQvBlWILG3JMIIYohyphenhyphenk2RjDpf2Djg7ndp3_AEFCsuuL2cqBjvSUTOMtallII9eiJoZ3R1d4OBsTtgZpeTQaAhd6amUAiPDLEl1PPmbuWvbLXRpmNw/s320/Picture+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422813185571263810" border="0" /></a></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-1-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Simon</span></b></span></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRkO9Qnmj2s6QXfqEPpEH43-S6FhGcX0icRKBvSrY1knx2X-Owr76tH95UnzF17dQik4z4W8WD0NWbS3Y2EEb4kIOEq6pJQ_nPmw5jRAQNJhvESZIVZMAY4F4fkZSIMM71he6rxrdAbUV/s400/Picture+502.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-2-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Joe</span></b></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrNasftDbJd9Y1fGkUssF_DeMKvc5Fqm3wQyh1F2AA3GWSCZwy9jMqA-dmFg3GKLWzH6f1Cbe1Q6qrNDXP7mFKieHTsMCyPcvYz7GrwhRG_ZV_GjdcRLuxtghC_HcoZkgcN3dVcwm2-w8/s400/Picture.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-3-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Deano</span></b></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuA1Kau7Cozf-gw8Fd547x9fsM75hcCLz032aUX1FRo82iIoxRvee-zoCYrIXlg6UYhZ32ULVgeoUHa6ot4KfSDLDCcVyyG0qYu5Ng2_nQVBPyN5zims6TTzi2dAdAL97CLVxxlgpPln5Q/s400/Picture+0222.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/unday-4-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Shaun</b></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXtU9GAOSzqZY3zng7ZxFoj_vTBNS0rs-wBOOoLWi3Do8zDMNtvuyNdON3CGTozPm31Jj-hNBONxFbMXpo6Z7d_wmHS4iQ8kx8k7xCbD7B2NnEYfF2kKLw239NMCLu6PGF-qAQivqZ7Lr/s400/Picture+506.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/unday-5-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b>Marty</b></span></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8SzMwXojG_aT_sR58jjGhkrc7ET91IwD8ezAg-UNFIgTZT766Eq0eDZyj4cAW5MsLEQiaJ1-H9sk3py06kggcmehoG225hfopp9e69sGJOyI3tSf71jruhuH76ml_-60vv8SYoDE06v8/s400/Marty.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/mentally-sexy-monday-garry.html">Garry</a></b></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijwhYH46pxCq-kdsTeQeZIn2_i9I4N7Pu2oD9HMKlcGceyMCEplWHVi4bj5cz0WDlHeUzqG8q3awgQZTUt5HIbEAHVfAvbpLCqA2uyEGspIcyCKM8dHxD99D0yuJq67uV_qzSixHe993a/s400/Picture+557.jpg" /><br /><br /><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/mentally-sexy-monday-brad_22.html"><br /></a><div face="arial" style="text-align: center;"><a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/mentally-sexy-monday-brad_22.html"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" >Brad</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLt7B3JlpsI2AVHQNZrPXX3qsV5BBPObgdS6cu5VTeYoxoMjWC7WC5wPuF3YgYTI0_z5w5Y-rt8qRQhE_GiSFMf_nbaWJDYhdacNERisf5G3XqKqz-Xi2PSB7YUULoPtlQLLASht8Tysw6/s1600-h/Picture+548.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLt7B3JlpsI2AVHQNZrPXX3qsV5BBPObgdS6cu5VTeYoxoMjWC7WC5wPuF3YgYTI0_z5w5Y-rt8qRQhE_GiSFMf_nbaWJDYhdacNERisf5G3XqKqz-Xi2PSB7YUULoPtlQLLASht8Tysw6/s400/Picture+548.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440854646798966578" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Go </span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/03/home-dadding-beginning-dans-story-part_23.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for the official rule page, with details on how to submit your (or your partners) entry.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Go <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2008/09/northern-dads-group-guest-blogger-3.html">here</a> for the official pictorial guide to the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Reservoir Dad Most Mentally Sexy Competition Clothing.</span></i></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Check in on Fridays for my </span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/trauma-and-reward-archies-fifth.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">usual ramble</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></li></ul></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-59728661360354730812010-02-08T15:13:00.008+11:002010-02-10T08:20:06.542+11:00Unday # 5 - The Search For Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s nice to feel appreciated. It really is. We’ve been together for 14 years now and it’d be easy for Ian to think he’s got me in the bag. When he does things, spontaneously, like tiding up or making me breakfast and dinner, it makes me feel wanted and cared for. And a man who can make a women feel like that? Well, there’s nothing sexier.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Virginia, Mother of three</span></span></span></i></b></span></div></i></b><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />Welcome to Unday #5! Things are progressing at a serious pace with four new, official, competition-grade </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Reservoir Dad Most Mentally Sexy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> items of clothing ready to be worn by all the Dads out there who are dreaming of being crowned </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Australia’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and getting the chance to represent their country at the highest level.<br /><br />Remember, the rules for the Australian leg of the competition are very simple. Send a </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Spiel</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">reservoirdad@gmail.com</span> detailing your Mentally Sexy attributes and activities, and how these impact on your wife and your relationship. Include your postal address with your entry and you will receive an item of clothing of your choice – underwear, boxer-shorts, singlet or t-shirt – so that you can look the part in your </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Photo</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Send the item of clothing back in the reply paid envelope, email your photo in, and we’re away. </span></span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />In further developments –<br /><br />1. </span></span><a href="http://grashan.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">GRASHAN – The Screen Printing Experts</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, have donated five</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Mentally Sexy 2010 Finalist T-Shirts</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to Reservoir Dad, so that our top five Dads at year’s end can brag about their accomplishment, and let everyone know how great they are, without even opening their mouths. More details about GRASHAN to come.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />2. This week, Reservoir Dad will be posting almost </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">every</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> day, to set up some reference pages for future posts, and allow visitors to the site easy access to all the ins and outs of the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Competition</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Here’s a gig guide –<br /></span></span><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tuesday – the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy Rule Page</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. (see </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/profile/community-news/1319-the-search-for-the-mentally-sexiest-dad.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dad-Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> if you're impatient)</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wednesday – You can go here to see the Pictorial Guide to the official, competition grade, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy Clothing. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I will also be putting up the </span>Mentally Sexy photos<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> of the five contestants.</span></span></span></i></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thursday – The </span></span><a href="http://preston-leader.whereilive.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Preston Leader</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> article featuring Reservoir Dad with photo.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Friday – The regular Friday ramble.</span></span></li></ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">3. Don’t forget to duck over to </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dad-Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to read </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/relationships/relationships/1333-the-path-of-the-mentally-sexy.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">my article</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – and to keep an eye on the American Mentally Sexy </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/contests/vote-for-sexiest-dad/1338-all-in-a-days-mental-sexiness.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">contestants</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<br /><br />4. We have received a few emails from women offering some quotes to include with each Unday. They’ve been great but we want more. Keep them coming. It gives us Mentally Sexy hopefuls an insight into how our efforts affect our better halves. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />5. Remember, this is a global competition. Battle hard, for although contentment and happiness will come to all who follow the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mentally Sexy Path</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, glory, Dads, is only for the winner.<br /><br />Now to this week’s entrant.<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000066;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Marty</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8SzMwXojG_aT_sR58jjGhkrc7ET91IwD8ezAg-UNFIgTZT766Eq0eDZyj4cAW5MsLEQiaJ1-H9sk3py06kggcmehoG225hfopp9e69sGJOyI3tSf71jruhuH76ml_-60vv8SYoDE06v8/s1600-h/Marty.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8SzMwXojG_aT_sR58jjGhkrc7ET91IwD8ezAg-UNFIgTZT766Eq0eDZyj4cAW5MsLEQiaJ1-H9sk3py06kggcmehoG225hfopp9e69sGJOyI3tSf71jruhuH76ml_-60vv8SYoDE06v8/s400/Marty.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435735417232511714" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br />Today’s entrant is Marty, father of Patrick, 3 and Isabelle, 2.<br /><br />“My wife takes care of most of the child related responsibilities. I own two gyms, run a powerlifting club five days of the week, see clients for general fitness and strength building and outsource to professional clubs as a strength coach. My days are varied and motivating and I try to be conscious of the fact that staying at home to look after the kids is a tough gig – it can be isolating at times and it’s also difficult to focus on personal goals. For this reason I do my best to give my wife some child free time, so she can get her fitness and training goals met every week.<br /><br />Sometimes it means I take the kids to work with me and as you can see in my picture, it can create some dramas. They’re always very keen to help out. I’ll set up a picnic blanket, with drinks and games and hang with them. It’s fun.<br /><br />This is how I exercise my Mentally Sexy attitude and it works on many levels for both of us. My wife gets to maintain her fitness for her sporting goals, she feels great after exercise so she is much happier and she can really put the child-raising and household issues aside for that period of time.<br /><br />For me? I get a much happier wife, who is happy with herself and her body and more relaxed, which means I’m happier. The kids are happier too. The bedroom benefits? I might just keep those details to myself. But hey, we’re both very fit…"<br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; "><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday - The Beginning</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-1-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 1 - Simon</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-2-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 2 - Joe</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-3-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 3 - Deano</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/02/unday-4-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 4 - Shaun</span></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /><br /></span></span><br /></div></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-62770660198853563142010-02-01T10:52:00.007+11:002010-02-02T13:06:55.358+11:00Unday # 4 - The Search For Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhlebRxgIeGip4s_CEokLHjozRzT_R8FNV-4TSGsh1unMBCjH_O4_M-UbOSTXXGkY_jlWTDW9Q909MADiBkC5LeiaV96Qbez2kzvROpJn7vZhfirKIiOvqwEK1qhVEM-GWKD9B8fQ3xWk4/s1600-h/photographer1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhlebRxgIeGip4s_CEokLHjozRzT_R8FNV-4TSGsh1unMBCjH_O4_M-UbOSTXXGkY_jlWTDW9Q909MADiBkC5LeiaV96Qbez2kzvROpJn7vZhfirKIiOvqwEK1qhVEM-GWKD9B8fQ3xWk4/s200/photographer1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433063195607355522" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I pull on a tight tank-top and don the </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy Underwear</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, pick up the vacuum and start fake-vacuuming the carpet, as Archie hangs over my shoulder looking at the man who is kneeling behind me a short distance away, snapping photographs for a newspaper that will go to everyone in my neighborhood – and some distance beyond – and my heart slows as I experience a flashback to a time when I was sitting in my classroom, Grade 2, cross-legged, answering my teacher’s question, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ with ‘I want to be a fire engine’ and I can’t help but think that maybe if I’d been more specific – more </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">correct</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – in my answer, and not chosen to be a large red vehicle, which is clearly impossible (even if I really, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">really</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> believe), that I may not be here, as I am, wondering how the hell I got myself into this.<br /><br />But I am here – into this and, to be </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">totally</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> honest, I’m into this in a big way and (without telling too many people) loving it more than a rabbit loves digging holes because I’ve always had a way of ending up on the strange side of life and now, three years into my role as a stay-at-home-dad, I can finally say that the weird life </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">is</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> the life for me.<br /><br />So if you get yourself a copy of the </span></span><a href="http://preston-leader.whereilive.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Preston Leader Newspaper</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> this week and you see the bald guy poking his arse in your general direction with the words </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> blazoned across his tight black underwear I don’t want you to feel sorry for him, or embarrassed, because you’re looking at a content man, a man who has found his niche, his calling, his joy.<br /><br />Some developments before we get onto our fourth contestant in the search for </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Australia’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> –<br /><br />1. </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dad-Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is all linked up and ready for action. The search for </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/profile/community-news/1319-the-search-for-the-mentally-sexiest-dad.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">America’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is on and that means that the international contest to find the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">World’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> has also officially begun. Have a look at </span></span><a href="http://www.daddywheresyourvagina.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Joe Schatz</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">’s </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/reviews/mentally-sexy/reviews_s33/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">sample entry</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to see what us Aussies are up against and then get motivated and send your Mentally Sexy Spiel here - reservoirdad@gmail.com - so you can get your hands on the Mentally Sexy clothing and get an entry in.<br /><br />2. Dad-Blogs and Reservoir Dad have penned the official </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/profile/community-news/1319-the-search-for-the-mentally-sexiest-dad.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most Mentally Sexy Competition Rules </span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">which you can also see at Dad-Blogs.<br /><br />3. Due to several emails from sensitive types who desperately want to enter the competition but claim there is no way they will ever be seen at Reservoir Dad in a pair of underwear I now have, in my possession, a pair of official, competition grade, Most Mentally Sexy Boxer Shorts and Tank Top. You can now choose what you wear although, I will point out, the judges will look more favorably on those wearing the underwear so if you’re not wearing them, your entries had better be super-creative.<br /><br />4. I am now a columnist at </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dad Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, so head over there to check out my articles and articles from the other great columnists there.<br /><br />5. I have just about wrapped up three female judges for the Australian leg of the competition and am not too far away from announcing the prizes that will be available for the top five Most Mentally Sexy Aussie Dads when the National leg of the competition ends in October. Stay tuned.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Now to this week's entrant.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000066;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Shaun</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXtU9GAOSzqZY3zng7ZxFoj_vTBNS0rs-wBOOoLWi3Do8zDMNtvuyNdON3CGTozPm31Jj-hNBONxFbMXpo6Z7d_wmHS4iQ8kx8k7xCbD7B2NnEYfF2kKLw239NMCLu6PGF-qAQivqZ7Lr/s1600-h/Picture+506.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXtU9GAOSzqZY3zng7ZxFoj_vTBNS0rs-wBOOoLWi3Do8zDMNtvuyNdON3CGTozPm31Jj-hNBONxFbMXpo6Z7d_wmHS4iQ8kx8k7xCbD7B2NnEYfF2kKLw239NMCLu6PGF-qAQivqZ7Lr/s400/Picture+506.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433062046262015234" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br />Our fourth contestant is Shaun, father of daughter Ollie, 4 months.<br /><br />‘I think I am the Most Mentally Sexy because I work hard and long but help out as much as I can with little Ollie when I get home. I’m a hands-on Dad and wouldn't even think of leaving all the child raising responsibilities to my wife. I insist on doing the nappies and getting her to sleep. I love it and miss being with her all day. On weekends, when I’m not working, I make sure I’ve got a handle on her at all times. I even make a point of carrying her around at parties as you can see in my photo. My wife definitely appreciates my efforts and tells me it's very attractive that I am so in love and involved with my daughter. RESERVOIR DAD RULES!’<br /><br /></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">hehe. Thanks Shaun. – RD.</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday - The Beginning</span></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-1-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 1 - Simon</span></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-2-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 2 - Joe</span></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-3-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 3 - Deano</span></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></span><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-55249605212456680072010-01-25T10:26:00.009+11:002010-01-27T13:40:16.910+11:00Unday # 3 - The Search For Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>George developed an understanding several years into our marriage that he was more likely to get me in the mood if he helped with the housework and did his bit with the kids. I’ve always found it hard to get intimate with him if there was a sink full of dishes or a laundry full of dirty clothes waiting. </i></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span>- </span></span></span><span style="font-style:italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Christine, mother of three</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br />Keep your pants on folks, the new pairs of official competition grade <i>Mentally Sexy Underwear</i> will be ready this week and so we’ll have some pairs to mail out to Mentally Sexy wannabes who are too far away from Mentally Sexy Central to do a hand-over.<br /><br />Also, I’d like to appeal to the partners of the Mentally Sexy entrants. We’d like to include a quote each <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html">Unday</a> to give us Mentally Sexy hopefuls an insight into how our efforts affect our better halves. So, women, if you’ve got something to say (see Christine’s quote above for a guide) either leave it as a comment or email it to Reservoir Dad.<br /><br />Dads, the Mentally Sexy bandwagon is rolling on and who knows where it will take us. American site <a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/">Dad-Blogs</a> is on board having created a <a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/reviews/mentally-sexy/reviews_s33/">Mentally Sexy link</a> on their website, with the promise of more to come this week, and as the competition intensifies I urge all Aussie Dads to get original with submissions. Take risks, push boundaries and make your Mentally Sexy spiels and photos as eye-catching and creative as possible. The Americans have vowed a mighty fight and we need some seriously motivated, wife-focussed Mentally Sexy Aussie Dads to go toe-to-toe with them.<br /><br />This is your chance to represent your country at the highest level. Don’t leave it too late. Get your submissions in by emailing resevoirdad@gmail.com<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Deano</span></span></div><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuA1Kau7Cozf-gw8Fd547x9fsM75hcCLz032aUX1FRo82iIoxRvee-zoCYrIXlg6UYhZ32ULVgeoUHa6ot4KfSDLDCcVyyG0qYu5Ng2_nQVBPyN5zims6TTzi2dAdAL97CLVxxlgpPln5Q/s1600-h/Picture+0222.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuA1Kau7Cozf-gw8Fd547x9fsM75hcCLz032aUX1FRo82iIoxRvee-zoCYrIXlg6UYhZ32ULVgeoUHa6ot4KfSDLDCcVyyG0qYu5Ng2_nQVBPyN5zims6TTzi2dAdAL97CLVxxlgpPln5Q/s400/Picture+0222.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430493529437078706" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br />Today’s entrant is Deano, father of Allanah, 4 and Emily, 2.<br /><br />"Women hate filthy toilets. Seriously hate them. My wife is no exception. I clean ours every day. Every <i>single</i> day because I know that even if we are emotionally connected and spiritually centred and right on track for a <i>physical</i> connection one short trip to a filthy toilet can shift her mood dramatically. I never want the mood to shift. I love my wife and I want her to be thinking about me, not the toilet."</span></span><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday - The Beginning</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-1-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 1 - Simon</span></span></a></div><div><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-2-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unday 2 - Joe</span></span></a></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-26557145145224265142010-01-18T10:07:00.010+11:002010-01-18T14:13:59.380+11:00Unday # 2 - The Search For Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">‘Women’s feelings about their husband were shaped by perceptions of fairness around housework,’ she said. ‘If the resentment factor was high that’s when their sex life was not great. The best sex aid a man could use was a vacuum cleaner.’</span></span></b></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span> <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Barbara Pocock, director of the Centre for Work and Life, </span></span><a class="zem_olink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:University_of_South_Australia.svg" title="University of South Australia"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">University of South Australia</span></span></a></i><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Cripes! The search for </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Australia’s Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> is really taking on the life of a raging love-struck beast. Thanks to everyone for your submissions, enquires and enthusiasm for this world first competition. We are currently in the process of making several other pairs of competition grade </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Reservoir Dad Mentally Sexy Underwear</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> which will be music to the ears of all our interstate applicants as we will be able – thanks to Australia Post – to reach all corners of Aus.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />Dads, it takes a strong man to walk the path of the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Mentally Sexy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. The early days are not easy and some of you may make several attempts before finally getting it right. Unfortunately, there will also be those who will simply fall by the wayside. I promise you this though – if you are relentless in your pursuit, forever vigilante to your partner's needs and fully committed to the cultivation of the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Mentally Sexy Mind</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, the rewards will come. And what rewards they are!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000066;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">JOE</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrNasftDbJd9Y1fGkUssF_DeMKvc5Fqm3wQyh1F2AA3GWSCZwy9jMqA-dmFg3GKLWzH6f1Cbe1Q6qrNDXP7mFKieHTsMCyPcvYz7GrwhRG_ZV_GjdcRLuxtghC_HcoZkgcN3dVcwm2-w8/s1600-h/Picture.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrNasftDbJd9Y1fGkUssF_DeMKvc5Fqm3wQyh1F2AA3GWSCZwy9jMqA-dmFg3GKLWzH6f1Cbe1Q6qrNDXP7mFKieHTsMCyPcvYz7GrwhRG_ZV_GjdcRLuxtghC_HcoZkgcN3dVcwm2-w8/s400/Picture.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427901851499148770" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />Our second contestant is Joe, father of five-year-old Jasmine and two-year-old Rex. Along with this sensational photo Joe offered us this –</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />"My wife’s generally a pretty relaxed person but if she’s had a rough day or she’s a bit tired I notice that small things can get to her – so I like to keep certain things in order so that she’s able to take it easy and focus more closely on her time with the kids and me. She works her arse off so she deserves it, I reckon. I try to keep the bench tops uncluttered and clean and the kid’s dirty clothes out of sight in the laundry. And because my daughter’s room is in sight from the living room I do my best to keep it neat (which is tough) by packing the toys away and stacking the books in the book shelf. Since pushing myself to maintain a bit of order I’ve noticed that she’s been more relaxed and spontaneously ‘affectionate’. I should have been doing this shit years ago, instead of wasting time and money on those bloody gym memberships."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Unday – The Beginning</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-1-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Unday #1 – Simon</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span></span></div> <div class="zemanta-pixie" style="margin-top:10px;height:15px"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/281361d2-adfc-410e-b8d5-7863dff611ef/" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]"><img class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=281361d2-adfc-410e-b8d5-7863dff611ef" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" style="border:none;float:right" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-54881555286792191012010-01-10T21:29:00.007+11:002010-02-09T14:46:35.607+11:00Unday # 1 - The Search For Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUf3rnLGHZGp2cdG-rqHg0s5gBj6Ta7zVTUmi4lE_J5GCeu7U1Vs0zMaTgHJFaCidDTbIoFYgy4CuOd5S1ZXWgH2AX5uRa-LdEpSpUo_DYw6u5F2SjFrrEc76EMiZH-wOVz1CJO3-0krrg/s1600-h/hotphotographer.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUf3rnLGHZGp2cdG-rqHg0s5gBj6Ta7zVTUmi4lE_J5GCeu7U1Vs0zMaTgHJFaCidDTbIoFYgy4CuOd5S1ZXWgH2AX5uRa-LdEpSpUo_DYw6u5F2SjFrrEc76EMiZH-wOVz1CJO3-0krrg/s320/hotphotographer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436084857276233042" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Just as the applications start to roll in and the search for </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">begins in earnest, we hear news from afar that a great challenge looms - American website </span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/profile/fatherhood-friday/1238-fatherhood-friday-46.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Dad-Blogs</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> - via co-founder Joe Schatz of "</span></span><a href="http://daddywheresyourvagina.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Daddy Where's Your Vagina</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">" fame - has accepted the challenge to run their own competition to crown </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">America's</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Most Mentally Sexy Dad. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This is now a global fight, Dads. The five most mentally sexy Dad's from each country - as chosen by female judges yet to be named - will battle it out to claim the title of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">World's</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Most Mentally Sexy Dad. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The stakes don't get any higher. If you are an Aussie Dad and think you have what it takes to fight for the Australian and World titles email Reservoir Dad - </span></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/reservoirdad@gmail.com"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">reservoirdad@gmail.com</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> - to enter this heated contest.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Please provide a short paragraph detailing your Mentally Sexy activities and how these have impacted on your relationship with your wife. For examples of what we're after go </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and check out, Simon, our first contestant below. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You now have an opportunity to represent your country and become an international super-star. Don't miss out. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On this historical day the people of Reservoir Dad are pleased to present the first contestant in the search for </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Australia's Most Mentally Sexy Dad</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000066;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">SIMON</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRkO9Qnmj2s6QXfqEPpEH43-S6FhGcX0icRKBvSrY1knx2X-Owr76tH95UnzF17dQik4z4W8WD0NWbS3Y2EEb4kIOEq6pJQ_nPmw5jRAQNJhvESZIVZMAY4F4fkZSIMM71he6rxrdAbUV/s1600-h/Picture+502.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRkO9Qnmj2s6QXfqEPpEH43-S6FhGcX0icRKBvSrY1knx2X-Owr76tH95UnzF17dQik4z4W8WD0NWbS3Y2EEb4kIOEq6pJQ_nPmw5jRAQNJhvESZIVZMAY4F4fkZSIMM71he6rxrdAbUV/s400/Picture+502.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425262042712164114" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><div><div><div> </div></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Simon is a father of two young girls and offered us this - </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"I've worked hard on my mental sexiness recently. I decided to take note of what bothered my wife on a day to day basis. I found that listening to her before sleep gave me the best indication of what household issues were playing on her mind and then I went about trying to remove those issues if I could. I started slowly by picking up one or two chores and I have to say I noticed a change in her within a few days. I'm a man - I'm ready for intimacy every minute of the day but I'm really starting to appreciate how different women are. They need a clear mind for the mood to hit and that's what I tell myself I'm doing as I unclutter the lounge room or hang out the washing - I'm clearing my wife's head. So when we go to bed at night we're both in the right frame of mind and we're not talking about household chores..." </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2010/01/unday-search-for-australias-most.html">Unday</a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span> </div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-24597864773171643022010-01-08T09:58:00.010+11:002010-01-11T09:29:57.541+11:00Tasty and Licky<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9HCUE8YPSaqMhNETvQyuXFU7OsAawPjg2IDQ1QXyMOfHjEvY9Sb7NXcmjSXsbP9zYKphlpTVcHDemSSS3FPdQffHyxGIhehJ5w8FC6HBcCgFlR0mwP5Ghrm2gsqvfqKNY2dMOEsB8Gsu/s1600-h/mosquito.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9HCUE8YPSaqMhNETvQyuXFU7OsAawPjg2IDQ1QXyMOfHjEvY9Sb7NXcmjSXsbP9zYKphlpTVcHDemSSS3FPdQffHyxGIhehJ5w8FC6HBcCgFlR0mwP5Ghrm2gsqvfqKNY2dMOEsB8Gsu/s320/mosquito.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424139226944007090" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's 5.30am and the traffic is light and I can’t stop scratching this fricken mosquito bite on the inside of my left thigh and as I head to the </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/ESPtraining"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Elite Sports Performance</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> gym to begin a massive year of powerlifting where I will smash all my previous 'personal bests' I am almost vibrating with excitement and aggression and this is most likely the cause of a white flash of anger that overwhelms me when I see - through the rear vision mirror - that I am being encroached upon by a Red Porche hammering its way towards me in my 1989 faded red Toyota Corolla .<br /><br />The Porche is very </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">very</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> flashy and </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">supercool</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and as the right-hand blinker signals the driver's intention to overtake me I am relieved that I fitted my Corolla with two hubcaps and a nice aerial only ten years ago as I am sure this will not go unnoticed.<br /><br />He's going way too fast and the fact that he's doing so is purely an expression of his desire to dominate me and while I am trying to maintain my rage to attempt a 300 kilogram deadlift at the gym I feel my foot pressing into the accelerator hard and as I fight against the urge to burn this prick off in a car that was previously owned by a ninety-year-old lady who only ever drove it back and forth to the corner Milk Bar I notice that he is not only speeding but also talking on his mobile and the arrogance this displays and the danger he poses to the average motorist gives my accelerator foot no choice but to hammer down hard.<br /><br />Disappointingly, my Toyota Corolla with the hotted-up aerial has just reached 65 KPH as the Porche begins to disappear over a rise one hundred meters ahead and in a mad rush to gain back some sense of power I attempt to flip the bird to his rear vision mirror but am impeded by the Dictaphone I hold in one hand and the IPod I hold in the other... suddenly I am aware of the fact that I can only really be so furious with his mobile phone-compromised driving if I was equipped with three or possibly four arms and so I sheepishly put the Dictaphone down.<br /><br />Fuck him anyway. I am going to </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bvdoxnuoL0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">lift 300 kilograms</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and I'll be doing it at a place where such a display of useless strength is much more impressive than a useless Porche and a useless suit and a useless pooncy gel-filled hair style.<br /><br />This frickin mosquito bite itches and the more I itch the closer I get to drawing blood and this reminds me of how badly Archie was bitten last week at a family barbecue and how Lewis escaped unscathed which in turn reminds me of a story that Reservoir Mum told me and in order to remember this story so that I can blog about it later I pick up the Dictaphone again, press the record button and begin to recount the details.<br /><br />'Well,' I say to the Dictaphone, 'Reservoir Mum is driving Archie, Lewis and Tyson to Nanny and Gramps’ house so that she can go to work and I can pick them up on the way back from the gym.’<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWLtI5Gt_kwwCascZPlp5m0Dx9RuAAJjgszXFKdg36MT7lWoMdQig0XxZFUldZYCC_gNA7mVDJcYGkVklkELiSznhp0VsFuM8xmm64i89G0HoGEgXKuA0L62PelaQ4d2E5hsQlZwPUbvI/s1600-h/rubiks-cube.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWLtI5Gt_kwwCascZPlp5m0Dx9RuAAJjgszXFKdg36MT7lWoMdQig0XxZFUldZYCC_gNA7mVDJcYGkVklkELiSznhp0VsFuM8xmm64i89G0HoGEgXKuA0L62PelaQ4d2E5hsQlZwPUbvI/s320/rubiks-cube.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424140040630134242" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I pull up to traffic lights. I suddenly feel like I am being watched. As I turn to the right I see a middle-aged woman sitting in her car. She looks forward – rat-trap fast – when she realises I’ve caught her spying. I reason that she’s probably a bit freaked out by seeing a bald guy who is dressed in filthy filthy powerlifting clothes while sitting in an old lady's car and talking into a dated piece of electronic equipment – like some relic from the days of tape recorders and Rubik's cubes – and I like this very much and so wind down my window and talk loudly in her direction.<br /><br />‘So, Reservoir Mum told me that, on the way there in the car, Archie licked his fingers and said ‘Mummy I just licked my finger and it was tasty.’ t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">o which Reservoir Mum replied, ‘Don’t lick your finger Arch, you never know what’s on it.’</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />I look down momentarily as I scratch again at my insect-inspired welt and see that I have created a rash that is approaching the outskirts of my nether-regions. When I glance to my right again I see that the woman is staring at me and shaking her head and I lose some of my previous confidence and feel just a tad self-aware and so speed off as fast as I can to get in front of her when the lights change. I get to about five KPH above the speed limit and put some distance between us so that I can continue recounting the story.<br /><br />‘And after a long pause Archie says,’ I say, to the Dictaphone…<br /><br />Another red light allows me to go back to scratching around the mozzie bite's edges, furiously – back and forth, up and down, round and round and damn it all to hell the woman has pulled up beside me again, this time on my left side. To my horror she goes right back to staring at me, with an expression on her face that makes me feel like I am a big pile of poo she’s just stepped in but despite this I am determined to appear as if I am not intimidated by her and I continue, but only after I slink down a little – and whispering...<br /><br />‘Archie says. “Oh, I know why mozzies bite me Mum – it’s because I’m cool and mozzies don’t like you to be cool.”’<br /><br />Reservoir Mum says, ‘Maybe that’s it, Archie…’<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjccwKAXv06tkIfRPd3deoSU7DXv-16W4AJ8lSQDPZPW45vG1ZF1g4w1zlo7Mt57UW5p2ktjFdcn9Rw3CUczriVez66oz84FLzZs6zhfVlCt0KCb9KwTm_b47btK3FzOBEgx5x9SxooHQb_/s1600-h/deadlift.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 191px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjccwKAXv06tkIfRPd3deoSU7DXv-16W4AJ8lSQDPZPW45vG1ZF1g4w1zlo7Mt57UW5p2ktjFdcn9Rw3CUczriVez66oz84FLzZs6zhfVlCt0KCb9KwTm_b47btK3FzOBEgx5x9SxooHQb_/s200/deadlift.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424141796458121410" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I turn the Dictaphone off and put it on the seat behind me as I once again race forward to get ahead of the staring woman and I’m feeling rattled – here I was psyched and ready to lift 300 kilograms and now after being attacked by the Porche guy and the staring woman I don’t even know if I have enough energy in the tank to pull 200.<br /><br />Taking the Dictaphone I do my best to finish the story. ‘Um, then Archie, after licking his finger again, says “Oh! No! Mum! I know why the mozzies bite me now! It’s because I’m so tasty!” and Lewis, who has remained quiet till this point almost bursts from his car seat restraints to say, “Yeah! And I’m licky!”’<br /><br />I am now convinced that hell has opened up and released this she-devil upon me. I am at the traffic light and she is beside me again. Her eyes burn into me and – having just watched </span></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1127180/"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Drag Me To Hell</span></span></i></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> recently – I am approaching a level of fear-induced hysteria. I throw the Dictaphone down, turn to her and mouth, helplessly, the words ‘What do you want from me…’ and then, following her line of vision right down to my groin, I become horribly aware of what furiously itching that area of myself must look like to someone outside my car. I suddenly see that I am not just a bald guy dressed in filthy filthy powerlifting clothes sitting in an old lady's car talking into a dated piece of electronic equipment. To the staring woman I am a bald guy – badly dressed, sitting in a rundown car – who is leering at a middle-aged woman, pleasuring himself and recording the moment for posterity, and that is just filthy filthy</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> filthy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<br /><br />When the lights change the staring woman takes off and I sit there watching the back of her head as it gets smaller and smaller and I feel just a tad under </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">permanently</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> humiliated.<br /><br />A few blocks later she finally turns off and I drive on feeling safer, but weak and small, and as capable of a big deadlift as the anti-hero </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Strawberry Jelly Man</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – who is not a real anti-hero but someone I made up just now to represent my level of physical power and intellectual esteem.<br /><br />To prevent myself plummeting further into the realm of insignificance I shuffle through my IPod for something uplifting. The Dictaphone lies beside me like a dead bird. I have forgotten the rest of Reservoir Mum’s story, but she’ll remember, and the fact that I will blog about the funny things my kids say allows me to feel some justification for all the madness I draw into my life. One day they will love to read about the things they said and how I took the time to write about it. That’s what I’m hoping anyway. Plus, the sound of the partially angry song </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Monkey</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> which is </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">so</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> great – in a gay-ish, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">George Michael</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">-ish kind of way – may lift me again, if I give it enough time.<br /><br /></span></span><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XkKhDNiwaOc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XkKhDNiwaOc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-57063872795797553602009-12-04T10:09:00.009+11:002009-12-04T19:00:48.453+11:00Reservoir Dad’s Adventures in Phuket – Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqSF0tXScxtneq2WarMjD-9KM34O-GUD0SyTStIpE60je3zT9GLKfGnPoWpjxNBmNcQBIc-bWVDSgz_ElTTt8jv_mHkpcpazLEC99bTQmR4eJ7HYvkFnc9dqWwufaDwc4dFWwopcRZf24R/s1600-h/home_sweet_home.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqSF0tXScxtneq2WarMjD-9KM34O-GUD0SyTStIpE60je3zT9GLKfGnPoWpjxNBmNcQBIc-bWVDSgz_ElTTt8jv_mHkpcpazLEC99bTQmR4eJ7HYvkFnc9dqWwufaDwc4dFWwopcRZf24R/s320/home_sweet_home.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411151168340258866" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Even though I have told my mind to shut up and sleep a dozen times it continues to move from one unordered thought to the next. We arrived home from Phuket at 7.15am without a minutes sleep and the house smelt dusty and well and the air inside was cold and refreshing and I saw that, outside, the chickens had shat all over my shoes as well as they possibly could.<br /><br />It’s now 2am and I am in bed, desperate for sleep, and my eyes are so wide open and motionless that they remind me of the mannequin me and my schoolmates stole and kept in a deserted old train station behind my house. We also kept a bow and several arrows that we stole from the school gymnasium there and one day I shot Jimmy in the leg from a short distance. I can still hear the noise – thoooomp! – and even though it was a blunt arrow it still penetrated his leg about a centimeter and made him bleed and I felt a little bad about that at the time even though Jimmy was a bit of a turd and the sort most people would take pleasure in shooting with whatever weapon they had on them.<br /><br />I drift away from Jimmy into semi-wakefulness and my ears are being throttled, again, by the noise of the airplane engines on our flight home from Phuket, and Archie and Lewis are entwined and asleep between me and Reservoir Mum and we’re doing our best to stop them falling to the floor at the same time that we’re trying to keep Tyson sleeping through the relentless ping of the turbulence warnings. Thoooomp!<br /><br />I see the Thai air hostesses in those long tight traditional-looking dresses shuffling around the plane as if they are bound at the ankles and everything about them is so polished – the blackened hair in a tight bun, the makeup-ed face as smooth as a sugared almond – and the shape of their bums are on display and their cleavage has me glaring and their patterned smiles and warm but wary eyes make it seem like my attention is acceptable only because they don’t expect anything else.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikap_rGy3XKonEaRclgayKnG1LcavJ1o-5GTk6VHNif4WQJH7o3B5bwLnmgQLw9rSCWHotCh38aW7EkPNWs2GOTRAgQk-angC_LIEnU8ZDYQVTtsrBIoxHlTKf5ZsUgFaDdlep2XtdmRV/s1600-h/arrowboy.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 101px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikap_rGy3XKonEaRclgayKnG1LcavJ1o-5GTk6VHNif4WQJH7o3B5bwLnmgQLw9rSCWHotCh38aW7EkPNWs2GOTRAgQk-angC_LIEnU8ZDYQVTtsrBIoxHlTKf5ZsUgFaDdlep2XtdmRV/s320/arrowboy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411151362866643810" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Thooomp Thooomp Thooomp. It’s now 2.45 and I have shot Jimmy in the leg seventeen times and each time I wonder at how pithy an event it is – two boys in a tiny country town versus the rest of the world – and yet here I am trying to convince myself that it didn’t matter and I realize that I am stuck in a vicious cycle because I am so hammered by sleeplessness that I am remembering irrelevant events in a dramatic and engaging way that makes it even more impossible to sleep.<br /><br />Putting the flights to and from Phuket aside, the holiday was awesome and I only have to think of </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/11/reservoir-dads-adventures-in-phuket_19.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Patong</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> and </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/11/reservoir-dads-adventures-in-phuket.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Surin Beach</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> and the </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/11/reservoir-dads-adventures-in-phuket_13.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Buck’s Night</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> and </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/11/reservoir-dads-adventures-in-phuket_26.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The Wedding</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> to acknowledge this but as the ticking continues and the night begins thinning I struggle with an uneasiness that may take me a while to shake. We stayed in a five star holiday apartment for two weeks while the locals lived in shacks made of corrugated iron or bamboo and lived one day to the next on whatever the tourists threw at them. Thooomp. And then I remember the arrogant old men buying girls for thirty Australian dollars a day to perform whatever service was required and I think about money and how the uneven distribution of it makes these things possible and I want to hurt these men for what they do at the same time that I see my part in it and the only thing that stops me from feeling a level of disgust at a world that allows such unfairness is that the locals I met and got to know seemed genuinely happy all the time and I can forget about the poor living conditions – as easily as I forgot about Jimmy’s wound for so many years – by convincing myself that what I saw was an actual happiness and not simply something I perceived to quell a rising sense of guilt.<br /><br />Before she fell asleep tonight Reservoir Mum watched me reading an old newspaper article about the </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/09/some-people-those-who-are-not-wise-in.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Geelong 2009 Premiership</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> and said, ‘You’re very simple, aren’t you? You only need football, powerlifting, sex and writing and you’re happy’ and I wonder if this is the real reason I’m awake. Thooomp. I </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">am</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> simple and if I get a taste of those four things on a regular basis – with sex being shuffled through the order depending on desire – I am as content as an individual can be but this does depend on my ability to ignore certain sufferings that exist all around me, all over the world, and I reflect on that fact as I remember that an old school friend told me, several months ago, that Jimmy is now very fat and drinks a lot and has a tattoo of a pizza on his ankle and I wonder if me shooting him in the leg had anything to do with that.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNAsMbzOzIOn9LMBNFTEcQmIpUpbE9IqLYGNeKFA9Dm-N45U8myH1FK9aRFvcmVp1AOnF3SbzHFLgVkSl9LSuYAkuDqg0dWNcHdDipw1opgqwg5wbmG5KVFz6uPI4uvH1kPGFqxdizNwA/s1600-h/huge-crowd-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNAsMbzOzIOn9LMBNFTEcQmIpUpbE9IqLYGNeKFA9Dm-N45U8myH1FK9aRFvcmVp1AOnF3SbzHFLgVkSl9LSuYAkuDqg0dWNcHdDipw1opgqwg5wbmG5KVFz6uPI4uvH1kPGFqxdizNwA/s200/huge-crowd-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411160761761373186" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> As I am about to shoot him, for the twenty-first time tonight, he makes a strange whimpering sound – which only makes me want to shoot him more – before he says, ‘Seven billion people, man. Can’t you go and shoot someone else?’ and my mind shifts to the size of the world’s population, reflected by all the people I saw at the airports, and for a moment I have no way around the fact that being one of so many is dwarfing to the individual and I wonder how I can convince my children when they are older that even though they are one tiny part of seven billion they are still vitally important if I don’t really believe it – on a consistent basis – about myself.<br /><br />There is no way around it. Thooomp. A level of selfishness is required to live in this world when you have it as good as I do. The holiday is over and now I must narrow my vision, again. Among seven billion I am nothing but to the four people who I am around every day I am everything and I only have to remind myself of this whenever I feel the world is working to make me disappear or overwhelm me with its sufferings and complexities, and a simple thing – like teaching Tyson to sit and crawl – becomes the most important thing and makes me indispensible.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9avUEGkb91A3Ot99WTS5OeL734YGgd9_lcxECfsDmWkPQke7mP0ig5uNHSZ2SuwijovOaufIe1Ubg8xsWIutsI0LvY6C8HEWIEpshSKjfx49ehyFn3vEwcQ8oqRphiDLbUsqV-SGSYMh/s1600-h/Tyson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9avUEGkb91A3Ot99WTS5OeL734YGgd9_lcxECfsDmWkPQke7mP0ig5uNHSZ2SuwijovOaufIe1Ubg8xsWIutsI0LvY6C8HEWIEpshSKjfx49ehyFn3vEwcQ8oqRphiDLbUsqV-SGSYMh/s320/Tyson.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411156284260109026" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It’s 3.50am, thooomp, and the arrow fits nicely into the hole that has permanently opened up in Jimmy’s leg and I am finally at the point where sleep is inevitable. When we got home this morning I noticed the backyard was overgrown with weeds, and the cracks in the walls and the stains in the carpets and the overstuffed disorganized cupboards and the lack of storage space and all the other things that plagued me daily before our vacation re-enter my thoughts immediately and I can’t help but smile because all these concerns seem petty and familiar and altogether safe.<br /><br />Thhhhoooooomp!</span></span>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-34615986152914046712009-11-19T16:09:00.005+11:002009-12-20T10:22:01.636+11:00Reservoir Dad’s Adventures in Phuket – The Buck's Night Part 2<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style=" Courier New";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWK4x7cFjY41Dnxb__f4vr9YzjYBwEbtNfSvPQjZqsOKHRnq8rpcMw5FHV71MQrUAv4Dnjw3g5JlQU6eq110vBfk3zF8l8Xlv1jaPTrl8diUG-U9qEsxlFPLYCylxIe84aMPK0E2jyZIr/s1600/334.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWK4x7cFjY41Dnxb__f4vr9YzjYBwEbtNfSvPQjZqsOKHRnq8rpcMw5FHV71MQrUAv4Dnjw3g5JlQU6eq110vBfk3zF8l8Xlv1jaPTrl8diUG-U9qEsxlFPLYCylxIe84aMPK0E2jyZIr/s320/334.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405671502940530770" /></a></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Cheap fucking Christmasy lights and tinny music and seedy open-air bars as far as the eye can see and I am so stung into wonder by the unbridled debauchery of the Patong nightlife that I find myself skipping - happy little girl style - and pointing at everything I see in such a way that all the traders are approaching me with the ching-ching sound of a cash register in their ears.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">There’s madness everywhere and while I am impressed by the up-frontery of the hookers who show me their wares, and the persistence of the tailors who work 24/7, and the casualness of the animal handlers and the ferocity of the salesmanship in the Pirated-DVD guys, I am mostly impressed by the continual allusion of sex which overwhelms every nook and cranny of Patong in the same way that a house decorated with a freshly chopped Christmas tree is overwhelmed by the smell of pine.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Todd is wearing a T-Shirt with the word’s “TODD’S BUCK’S NIGHT written across the back in black marker. On the front is a grid with 36 squares and 36 tasks that he must complete by the night’s end ranging from sculling a beer to enacting a ‘Mick Dundee’ on a Lady-boy – which basically entails cupping his hand around her meat and two veg – and while I have my doubts that Todd can complete every task I am certain that he will dig deep and give it his very best shot.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A man dressed as a monkey selling half price passes to the Phuket Zoo appears on one side of me and I feel a scratchy weight on my shoulder as another man appears on the other side of me yelling, “You want photo? You want photo?” I do my best Arnold Schwarzenegger slow-mo glance in the direction of the scratchy weight until I bump my forehead against the open mouth of a giant fricken Iguana.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Get it the fuck off me!” I scream, as I bolt ahead of the group thrusting my hips back and forward and shaking my chest like some crazy hot dancer from the 80’s hit</span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppxsWLXVs3E"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span style="color:#3366CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Maniac</span></span></span></b></span></a><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. I am the cause of much mirth for the Buck’s group and Dennis comments, in a way that could be interpreted as semi-serious, that I have some impressive moves. Being in such a buoyant mood and happy that the man actually caught the giant Igauna before it fell to its death, I have to agree with Dennis – I did move very well and I’m sure that if I had performed those steps in a different context, say at a Blue Light Disco, I would have been an inspiration to many.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We find our way to</span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><b><u><span style="color:#3366CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Malibu Bar</span></span></span></u></b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">which was secured for the Buck’s Night exclusively nights earlier and within seconds of perching myself on a bar stool three</span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">waitresses</span></span></span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">begin massaging my shoulders, arms and hands (I italicise waitresses here only to save myself from the effort of writing prostitutes and Lady-Boys). The effect it has on my intoxicated mind and body could only be matched by a shot of morphine and by the time I regain my clarity I am in need of a napkin to wipe the drool running from the corner of my mouth and something else to drink with a little kick in it.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyhY6uX_bI5EydugLYB68gxNuvpMJKjkNic9WtVr1zBLBpHfnc8Qhq_PvKPzi-Qf2SoNb6_-g-2tAcq85p0rszFuTK67ewL1bGpyFayGHzo8pyPk8nhMfHsg8JNWfLvtgH9nY-WkFZn70/s1600/579.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyhY6uX_bI5EydugLYB68gxNuvpMJKjkNic9WtVr1zBLBpHfnc8Qhq_PvKPzi-Qf2SoNb6_-g-2tAcq85p0rszFuTK67ewL1bGpyFayGHzo8pyPk8nhMfHsg8JNWfLvtgH9nY-WkFZn70/s320/579.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405676446601961938" /></a></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Todd lines up several shots and we down them quickly as Jamie climbs a stripper’s platform and starts thrusting against the pole and within minutes of watching him gyrate and kick and swing I am convinced that he has participated in the highly popular</span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span><a href="http://www.poledancingmelbourne.com.au/"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span style="color:#3366CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">pole-dancing fitness classes</span></span></span></b></span></a><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">back in Aus. I make a note to tell him how impressed I am with his talent as I strike up a conversation with two of the other Buck’s –</span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Buck 11 and 12 – who I met only hours before, and within minutes the inevitable, “And what do you do…” question is raised.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“I’m a stay-at-home-Dad,” I say.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Waitresses appear from nowhere to break the lingering silence with their shoulder-loosening fingers. After several seconds Buck 11 says, “That’s great. No, really. I’d love to be able to hang out with the kids all day. Go to the park and that.”</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My mouth opens and then shuts and then repeats that pattern several times until I stick another shot into it. I then buy the waitress a shot, which guarantees her 50 Baht from the bar, and distract myself from replying to Buck 11 by refocussing on Todd’s efforts to cross off every box on his T-shirt. As I watch him proposition a Lady-boy, swap pants with a stranger, scull a pot while standing on his head and offer a sexual service to a merchant for 100 Baht, I am suddenly aware of the fact that Archie, Lewis and Tyson will one day start reading this blog and that this very post may be the one that confuses them the most.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I am interrupted by the urgent need to urinate and hightail it out and notice the toilets are right at the end of the long thoroughfare of bars. Todd, who is still negotiating with the Merchant – they have agreed on the sexual act Todd will perform but the merchant will not go above 80 Baht - stops the intense negotiations when he sees that I am heading in the direction of the toilets. “You should seriously think about taking someone with you, when you go for a slash,” he says. “The waitresses and Lady-boys can be very persistent about getting you into their bar.”</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I shrug it off, laugh at him, and start walking in the direction of the toilets. I feel confident. I feel great. If the women and the he-she’s pressure me too strongly to enter their bars, I’ll simply ignore them and walk right by. I am a big, big boy and I can handle it.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As I approach the first bar several waitresses gather at the entrance so I hold one hand up, offer a pleasant expression and mouth </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">No Thanks</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. Like a clumsy adolescent boy trying to reach second base on his first date it takes me a moment to realise that my raised hand has been seized. I am being dragged, violently, towards the bar by two waitresses and I whimper, pathetically, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">No I don't want it</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, as another grabs my leg and yet another goes directly to my nether-regions and works her hands in such a way that the meat is separated from the two veg in what appears to be a bizarre measuring-up ritual.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I am being shunted towards the bar paralysed and conflicted by the fact that my genitals are being handled so expertly by a woman – who may or may not have a penis herself – at the same time that my will and sense of self is being shattered by an effective Phuketian gang-tackle that I lose all ability to think my way out, and it seems my fate is sealed, until another waitress jumps on my back and reignites the memory of the giant Igauna, and I know what I must do.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I channel the energy of the Maniac with every ounce of effort available to me and recreate the dance that served me so well only hours before, and to understand the effort and emotional intensity involved I urge you to watch this clip –</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ppxsWLXVs3E&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ppxsWLXVs3E&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In my mind I am suitably dressed in tight black leotards with white cotton wrist bands and I flick and gyrate and buck and thrust and jump and dive and punch out and one by one the waitresses release me and fall away until I am back out in the thoroughfare panting like an overworked racehorse and jerking all around like that little squirrel chasing the nut in the </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4gvxUlGNAs"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ice Age</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> series. With urine on the horizon I have no choice but to Maniac my way past all the bars on the way to the toilets and in this fashion manage to deflect and avoid dozens of genital-scented hands without more than a few mills of leakage.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After doing my business, I stand at the sink for several minutes convincing myself that I have what it takes to make it back and then I hear Todd behind me.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"It's okay. Wait for me. I 'll show you how."</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He returns a minute later and guides me to the entrance of the thoroughfare.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Don't leave me," I say.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He smiles, takes off like Usain Bolt and screams, "Let's just keep going RD. Let's just keep going!" as waitresses bounce off him or dive back inside their bars for their own safety.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I decide I need some real motivation to gee myself up and give me every chance of making it all the way to the Malibu Bar and so I settle on what I feel is the most appropriate song to sing - "My body's nobody's body but mine, you've got your own body, let me have mine," I bellow with all my might, as I take off running faster than I have ever run in my life, not sure if I actually have enough energy left to break free of the waitresses clutches. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They lunge, reaching for me. "Let me have mine," I scream.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Let me have mine.... !</span></span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-61215657999388612862009-11-13T13:32:00.012+11:002009-12-07T09:59:24.698+11:00Reservoir Dad’s Adventures in Phuket – The Buck's Day/Night Part 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKRUFHg_6kVlNT4EBjk33EjenTsm_UM62QwuB8dDKjpaRbpq3ChrEqJ-SknhAdgfZR0uIF100SvPVnwPFE2qttU-6At3isIJcUCNhyQT7ZtuA43IqlKaYQHeJT2GUOOhG0Q3lxhMYEo-L/s1600-h/wedding+photos+151.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKRUFHg_6kVlNT4EBjk33EjenTsm_UM62QwuB8dDKjpaRbpq3ChrEqJ-SknhAdgfZR0uIF100SvPVnwPFE2qttU-6At3isIJcUCNhyQT7ZtuA43IqlKaYQHeJT2GUOOhG0Q3lxhMYEo-L/s320/wedding+photos+151.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403412277825626850" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The boat is fanging its way towards Phi Phi Island with fourteen semi-decent to non-decent males on board. I’m almost certain that I’ll get seasick and so I distract myself with inner dialogue about the overweight boat-boy. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of cheap board shorts and I’ve been trying to count the roll lines on his belly but he keeps bending, stretching and reaching for things and so I come up with three different numbers – two, three and seven. I’m about to give up, add the numbers and divide the total by three for an average when he finally stops moving and looks stoically back towards Phuket’s shore. I’m surprised to find that his belly wobbles out into a perfect podgy sphere with no lines at all. I ponder the size of his omentum for a moment before we burst through a large wave and I’m jolted back to reality.<br /><br />Todd, the Buck, told me weeks earlier, that we were in for a day of swimming, diving, snorkelling, lunch and beers on a chartered speedboat. He then asked me which of those activities I would be participating in and seemed surprised when I replied, categorically, lunch and beers.<br /><br />The Captain yells ‘In case of an emergency….’ over the roar of the boat and that’s about all I hear. I’m not concerned because if this boat capsizes or crashes or is attacked by sea monsters the result will be the same for me whether I understand the emergency procedure or not – death, so I pretend I'm listening, nod seriously and turn to Jamie, Todd’s brother and best man, who is tapping me on the shoulder.<br /><br />“You have to snorkel,” he says.<br /><br />“I don’t see any point in snorkelling,” I tell him. “It’ll make me wet and then I’ll have to dry myself.”<br /><br />“Everyone will be doing it. Are you scared?”<br /><br />As all visible sign of land disappears I have the impression that the sea is overwhelming us – like cookie dough overwhelms a chocolate chip – and I see no reason to change my decision.<br /><br />“I’m not scared, I just have a care factor of zero for this particular activity. I’m happy to sun myself and drink beer on the boat. Are you okay with that?”<br /><br />“I’ll lose a little respect for you,” he says.<br /><br />“Respect for me? I won’t be the one splashing and squealing like a little girl in the water,” I tell him. “How about I bypass the snorkelling and when we get back to Phuket I’ll find a sprinkler to spread my arse over. You can be the one to turn it on if you want.”<br /><br />Jamie laughs and even though I’m appearing as blasé as possible I</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> am</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> stuck on the ‘respect’ thing. I like Jamie – he’s a cool dude in a doofusy, Clarke Kent-ish, Gilligan from Gilligan’s Island kind of way and Todd is one of my best mates from right back to High School days and I am suddenly struck by my predicament – I can do what makes me happy or I can do something, marginally painful, to make the groom and the best man happy on what is an important day for them.<br /><br />I decide to consult the oracle and so reach for a can of beer and pierce the end with a pen. I shake it just a little and then shotgun it in what I feel is under three seconds. Even before I lower the empty can-slash-oracle my 2009 Geelong Premiership Cap is blown right off my head and out of the boat and I take this as a clear message to stay on board and refuse any water activities until Jock – Todd’s father – hands me my cap back and says, ‘It just blew into the back of the boat.’<br /><br />I swallow a wellspring of emotion and am certain of two things – Geelong will win back-to-back flags 2009/2010 and I will be dipping myself into the ocean for the benefit of my long term friend.<br /><br />The boat boy waddles past and starts collecting diving equipment as we round Phi-Phi Island and find a ‘good’ diving spot. I reason that he is a good choice for a boat boy for this particular group. Most of the guys have taken their shirts off already and this has to have something to do with how good we feel about our own abs in comparison to his.<br /><br />Todd is in his element, surrounded by his friends and family – beer drinking foul-mouthed mostly Aussie lunatics – and he leads the diving group into the water. I pull on a pair of flippers and a snorkel and waddle my way to the edge and I can’t help but think that if the boat-boy ate an all meat diet for a month and did some basic exercise that he could switch from Buck’s groups to Hen’s groups and probably make a lot more Baht.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjpUjR2QhZ4MCj8ds_9lhOvdnbbd8mqaHbROUA-oJ4crtHejMao3QF20N6MNkDuy_ZYAQoAWs3D-j-0e3z7SBaP7pMWSWdp7HT5O1lb8BowyekPoRSCLzzC9LscaX6bWnpnfhStn0zs9c/s1600-h/colorfish.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjpUjR2QhZ4MCj8ds_9lhOvdnbbd8mqaHbROUA-oJ4crtHejMao3QF20N6MNkDuy_ZYAQoAWs3D-j-0e3z7SBaP7pMWSWdp7HT5O1lb8BowyekPoRSCLzzC9LscaX6bWnpnfhStn0zs9c/s320/colorfish.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403424992219895650" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Suddenly I’m in the water. Several fish swim by, I can see right to the bottom of the ocean and am aware that this is what divers and snorkelers talk about – the clear water, the colourful fish – as the carrot of the experience, so I do my best to get taken away. I see a school of barracouta, a big flat fish, some skinny white fish and a very fast fish with yellow stripes. The chorus from </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MjMCaw4qzjg&feature=related"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Dream Police</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> is replaying itself over and over in my head. I have no idea why.<br /><br />What strikes me, apart from the fact that I am just about brain dead bored, is that all the fish are so fricken calm. Why aren’t they eating each other? Where’s the violence? The Dream Police is replaced by the echo of a radio advertisement designed to raise awareness of people with disabilities with the catchphrase - ‘See the person not the disability’ and as I float lifelessly, so disinterested that I can’t even be stuffed paddling, I have to be honest with myself and say that every time I meet someone with a disability I </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">always</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> see the disability first and it is only with great effort that I then see the person, if time and circumstance permits. I also notice the fat in fat people first, the old in old people, the bushy eyebrows on hairy people, the height of the very tall or very small and the pus-filled zits on the pimply. I feel semi-guilty about this until I consider the fact that when I look at myself in the mirror the first thing I notice is the baldness, the sickly whiteness of my skin and the very very slight appearance of bitch-tits on the bald, white, nearly bitch-titted man looking back at me.<br /><br />Four really big brown fish swim past and look right at me and I barely notice until I see the look in their eyes. They’ve encountered yet another snorkeler and they’re thinking, ‘Oh, there’s another one of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">those</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, again.’ They’re as bored with the activity as I am.<br /><br />Some ocean gets in my snorkel and I lift my head choking and spluttering as Jamie swims by. I look back at the boat. Ten minutes of snorkelling has to be enough to get the respect Jamie has on offer.<br /><br />The boat boy offers a hand to help me on board and in this position I can see five very distinguishable rolls of fat. I decide that five will be the official number. The flippers and snorkel are discarded and I decide I will now revert back to my University attitude for the rest of the day/night and so open another beer. I have at least half an hour to empty several cans. The Captain turns on the radio and sits down next to me. We look out over the expanse of what is the most beautiful scenery – Islands, massive rock formations, clear water, blue sky – and within minutes he is telling me how he picked up a Phuketian lady-boy by accident.<br /><br />“Like you pick up your mates keys instead of your own?’ I ask, ‘That sort of accident?”<br /><br />“No, man,” he says, a little pained, "I mean, I bought her for the night – 1500 Baht – but I thought she was a real woman."<br /><br />“What did you do to her?" I ask.<br /><br />“Just about everything,” he says and then goes into detail. “(Content removed by author).”<br /><br />“How’d you find out she was a lady-boy?”<br /><br />“I just realised when I woke up in the morning.”<br /><br />I think, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Bullshit to that. You wanted to sleep with a lady-boy and now you want to talk about it. You really really love lady-boy </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">but I really say, “That’s crazy man.”<br /><br /></span></span><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YM-lEuYQ9YY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YM-lEuYQ9YY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He nods as The Empire of The Sun start singing Walking on a Dream and I feel awesome about my decision to snorkel for only a few minutes because I would have missed this little story and I know that people are crazy and while everyone’s out there skydiving and scuba diving and ab-sailing I’ll be sitting around watching and waiting for a crazy person like the Captain to spill his guts to a crazy person like me and when asked about my Phuket trip in the future I’ll be talking about how crazy-cool this dude is before I talk about a couple of colourful fish.<br /><br />The Captain continues his frank discussion about lady-boys and even though I am now aware that there’s a strong chance he is trying to pick me up I start to look forward. Soon we will leave this boat behind and get sucked into the night-life of Patong where there’s a constant atmosphere of insanity, where everyone seems to be laughing at one another as they bargain money, sex, experience and time from each other. It’s going to be crazy and as the rest of the boys climb on board and start reaching for the cold beers I get this tingly, drunken, excitable flutter about the night ahead.</span></span><br /></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-50494005882598550092009-11-06T12:14:00.012+11:002009-12-07T10:00:37.449+11:00Reservoir Dad’s Adventures in Phuket – The Jellyfish<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVtjDJ9nkubtGGRhaM6eglWwLUWCJTOpfnJ6jRJyaWPhzZYKFwA_38IKnyPjrWVGAZQiFCZprJAgCiJKAPRVV1miY6hohe57Ptm2UtqDlQiHlWulDNFesNQOY8ssiPsMQuIUJaxqOcPaI/s1600-h/a357_jellyfish.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVtjDJ9nkubtGGRhaM6eglWwLUWCJTOpfnJ6jRJyaWPhzZYKFwA_38IKnyPjrWVGAZQiFCZprJAgCiJKAPRVV1miY6hohe57Ptm2UtqDlQiHlWulDNFesNQOY8ssiPsMQuIUJaxqOcPaI/s400/a357_jellyfish.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400793560877886258" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I’m in a lazy sun-slash-beer-slash-food stupor and comparing myself to the recently fed, highly-sexed lion, lazing under the shade of a tree in the sweltering African heat. I come to the conclusion that I stack up alright – Lions eat lots of meat and I have eaten double helpings of every kind of animal available in Phuket. Lions have sex fifty times a day and I have already </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">thought</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> about sex at least fifty times today. And when not aroused into action by sex or food lions do nothing at all and I am also doing nothing very, very competently.<br /><br />I open my mouth to let out a groggy roar but the effort is beyond me and I resign myself to a dopey smile and several smacks of my recently beer-soaked lips when I notice a blurry shape to the right running down the beach towards me. I lift my head to see Reservoir Mum walking at a steady pace with Archie, crying, and Lewis in toe. A mild panic strikes me and I’m on my feet, suddenly alert.<br /><br />“He’s been stung by a jellyfish,” she says. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”<br /><br />“Oh Jesus, is he going to die?” I scream.<br /><br />Reservoir Mum rolls her eyes and tells me to go ask the locals for some ointment. I run as fast as my legs (which are fatigued by my extended period of stagnation) can carry me, to a woman selling massages for 100 Baht and tell her that my son, who has encountered tremendous peril at the hands of a jellyfish, needs her special magic ointment to ward off any chance of death. She fails to understand me and calls over another woman who cannot understand me who calls over a man who holds two hands up and says, “What do you want?”<br /><br />I say, “Jellyfish sting ointment.”<br /><br />He speaks in Phuketian and the second woman dawdles off and returns with a slice of lime. I ask her if she perhaps forgot the cocktail that goes with it.<br /><br />‘Rub it on the sting’ the man says.<br /><br />I’m unconvinced but scream Konichiwa as I head back to the scene of the drama and within minutes Archie is fervently licking a chocolate coated shark-shaped ice-cream and standing confidently on his lime-soaked legs.<br /><br /> ***<br /><br />The boys are asleep and I’m watching a pirated copy of </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOGd8v5BuL0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Management</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> with Reservoir Mum but I lose concentration shortly after the </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/10/reservoir-dads-adventures-in-phuket.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">bum</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> scene.<br /><br />“I want to hunt that jellyfish down and kill it,” I tell her. “It’s out there somewhere with bits of my child’s skin on its bastard tentacles.<br /><br />“Don’t be silly,” she says to me, “Stuff like that just happens.”<br /><br />I feel angered by her Buddhist nonchalance at the same time that I feel enamored by her coolness. “If Archie had been eaten by a lion in Africa we’d hunt the feline arsehole down and skin it alive. Wouldn’t we?”<br /><br /></span></span><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHEocvITSiLgPjFWEphSo1MSDx33UMpdYd4qv64LCEd1tRuhlD5ilMDOTgawgXVrWCY1WruSAF6zcygcaMk1am7txM50Qm5rhwkZuMa1Q0ZKnQfhLg6C1iTVGgaYzAQZumYJkmpT1A9TIB/s200/jet+ski.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400798557366799106" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Reservoir Mum begins to talk but her words are lost in the shoosh of the ocean. I can see myself on a jet ski. I am high-tailing it towards the horizon. When I look behind me I see Archie on the shore. His leg is very, very red and the tears in his eyes renew my resolve.<br /><br />When I look down I see a school of the bulbous jellyfish bastards, undulating as they do – their tiny heads and their pathetic wispy tentacles. I don’t trust anything without eyes and mouths but these child-stinging mongrel sons-of-bitches are also missing noses and ears. I secure the snorkel and goggles to my face and dive into the deep blue. My legs clamp together and I buck and flex my hips like a mermaid (without boobs, long flowing hair, a tan and a general female allure).<br /><br />Within seconds I am upon them. They scatter like rabbits but regroup meters ahead and circle me. I am in water – their favorite place. They have the home-ground advantage and they know it.<br /><br />To my right I see a jellyfish with something on its tentacles. It can only be human flesh, the flesh of my child. I lunge for it and my hand is consumed by jelly. I whack at it, bite it, punch it, poke it, give it a Chinese burn and my rage is so focused that it’s only after I deliver a thorough thrashing that I’m aware of the dozens of other jellyfish that cling to my legs, my arms, my torso. The pain is so dictionary complete.<br /><br />I swim one jelly-fished stroke, one tentacle covered kick at a time until I feel the waves rise and carry me to the shore. I am dumped on the sand resembling a large summer sweet. Beautiful exotic Phuketian women run from everywhere with slices of lime and rub me from head to toe for 50 Baht a stroke and the jellyfish recoil and fall like vampires splashed with holy water.<br /><br />A crowd forms. Archie is crowd-surfed over them and placed at my feet. He looks at me, still scarred by a reddish or perhaps now pinkish-white barely visible line around his ankle. He notices the jellyfish I still hold in my hand and recoils but I beckon him near. I raise it in the air and feel a surge of unnatural strength, that only a father whose child’s life is threatened feels, and I say, to the jellyfish, so that all – the crowd, the women but most of all Archie – can hear, ‘You’re going to the naughty corner. Two minutes. And then you must say sorry.’<br /><br />Archie laughs and falls to his knees in relief as the crowd cheers. The Phuketian women, still lovingly applying lime juice to my legs, ask me to marry them but, alas, Reservoir Mum and my country will only allow me one wife.<br /><br />The shoosh of the ocean and the adulation of the crowd recedes and is replaced by Reservoir Mum’s voice. "We should buy him that blow-up shark floaty thing on the way to the beach tomorrow though, to encourage him to get in the water again."<br /><br />"Yes," I say, "He’ll love that" and within minutes I can see Archie floating out into stormy seas. I am guiding my hang-glider through lighting and rain, honing in on him. The Phuketian women are wearing wedding dresses and singing a particular song from Moulin Rouge which I can’t quite remember the name of……</span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHEocvITSiLgPjFWEphSo1MSDx33UMpdYd4qv64LCEd1tRuhlD5ilMDOTgawgXVrWCY1WruSAF6zcygcaMk1am7txM50Qm5rhwkZuMa1Q0ZKnQfhLg6C1iTVGgaYzAQZumYJkmpT1A9TIB/s1600-h/jet+ski.jpg"><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/" target="_blank" mce_href="http://www.dad-blogs.com"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><img mce_src="/images/stories/dblogo.png" width="154" alt="Dad Blogs" src="http://dad-blogs.com/images/stories/dblogo.png" height="60" /></span></span></a>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-49862690324792479252009-09-29T13:31:00.014+10:002009-09-30T17:47:31.613+10:00The Top 5 Days Of My Life (as dictated by Geelong Premierships)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAW8HS4vUE_GD1dcQZkVqs7Bv7g4HzV55jzM4GW5mpOp_BwwXuEepZhsOqWiZbYZVsDH3tu2A7JI8k6ErKYPyC01HpczoapKVWbn7_wfEom66UZAcDCQ1bFoNvnd_kp_Tnze7QvKMGq29l/s1600-h/Clint.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAW8HS4vUE_GD1dcQZkVqs7Bv7g4HzV55jzM4GW5mpOp_BwwXuEepZhsOqWiZbYZVsDH3tu2A7JI8k6ErKYPyC01HpczoapKVWbn7_wfEom66UZAcDCQ1bFoNvnd_kp_Tnze7QvKMGq29l/s320/Clint.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387071023476074290" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Some people - those who are not wise in the ways of the world- have told me, over the years, that football doesn't really matter, that there are more important things in life, that football is just a game. Up until 2007 when Geelong won our first premiership in 44 years, I would reply 'If only that were true,' such was the pain of having to live through four grand final losses without seeing the ultimate success once. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />In the last quarter of the 2007 Grand Final, when we were already 100 points ahead and certain of the win, I sent out a mass text to family and friends that said something like this -</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">I love yous all. This is one of the top 5 days of my life.</span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />Reservoir Mum and a few astute others sent a message back asking what other events filled the top 5, suspecting that maybe I didn't have too many other passions that would really trouble the list. I replied -</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />1. Marriage to Reservoir Mum<br />2. Archie & Lewis's birth<br />3. 2007 Geelong Premiership</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />It dawned on me that they were right. I was two short of top 5. So being the clever dick that I am I filled in the top 5 to come up with this -</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />1. Marriage to Reservoir Mum<br />2. Archie & Lewis's birth<br />3. 2007 Geelong Premiership<br />4. 2008 Geelong Premiership<br />5. 2009 Geelong Premiership</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />I was stupidly happy. It was happiness mixed with relief and emotional fulfilment and a sense of accomplishment and a ton of pride and a shitload of getstuffedallyoubastardswhothoughtwecouldn'tdoit.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Xi7fa0qeuR-S9B9SIb63qKeNOCFqfeGyk2F-9D-lY3E21wNdZNzAU_-_m6XXlxLAv2RY0g7f2bt4raNthziCFZBsfbDE6Fby9rj1XewYpRIXrwkgawxWjRndDzwS8TpULVbBSSjH6wJ6/s1600-h/celebrate.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Xi7fa0qeuR-S9B9SIb63qKeNOCFqfeGyk2F-9D-lY3E21wNdZNzAU_-_m6XXlxLAv2RY0g7f2bt4raNthziCFZBsfbDE6Fby9rj1XewYpRIXrwkgawxWjRndDzwS8TpULVbBSSjH6wJ6/s320/celebrate.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387066681337073426" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">That day and that night I hugged thousands of blue and white clad strangers and thought about my life and what the Geelong Football Club was to my childhood and my family and my sense of self and I could only come to the conclusion that it was a great thing to be so passionate. It's a wonderful thing. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />So when I was confronted with ‘It’s only a game,’ by the few naysayers who thought that my celebration was excessive, my reply was simple - 'Thank God it is not.'</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />It's only a game they said again in 2008 when I watched us lose a fifth Grand Final. The pain was so overwhelming that I was forced temporarily back to my pre-2007 reply, 'If only that were true.'</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />And the Top 5 Days of My Life had to be altered -</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />1. Marriage to Reservoir Mum<br />2. Archie & Lewis's birth<br />3. 2007 Geelong Premiership<br />4. 2009 Geelong Premiership<br />5. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtx83WwPIHmskF0ZSGVO8auuy7xCifTB0uUB8OfFhUlG_MKZhS4W5u9UT9n3zmfC8nLouCQxj_-kyxWfwOFuirmg2O4HP8TKB7nZyol9s7EoQbGfdoP2RLxvho6cXMc2JBXUXoMfdTp2Y/s1600-h/geelong_cats_2009_premership.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtx83WwPIHmskF0ZSGVO8auuy7xCifTB0uUB8OfFhUlG_MKZhS4W5u9UT9n3zmfC8nLouCQxj_-kyxWfwOFuirmg2O4HP8TKB7nZyol9s7EoQbGfdoP2RLxvho6cXMc2JBXUXoMfdTp2Y/s320/geelong_cats_2009_premership.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386859382333319954" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">2008 left a glaring hole that made 2009 a very long season. Tyson was born and I said to Reservoir Mum several times how I'd love to have a child born in a Geelong Premiership year. It wasn't looking good for a while. We had been stung by the Grand Final loss and not many gave us a real chance of winning the Flag. There were several sides capable of winning and as the season wore on the Geelong team started to stumble, losing players to injury, dropping form, losing games. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />But the Cats regrouped. Players returned from injury just in time and form lifted. The spirit was there and we played some of our best footy to make the 2009 Grand Final. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">I was a nervous wreck leading up to it. I neglected most things except for the kids (sorry Reservoir Mum) and spent most of the week locked inside myself. Another loss would be disastrous. Another win would bring euphoria. Both of those scenarios played themselves out in my head, over and over. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />I read all footy-related print media, watched every news report and footy-related television program and listened to </span></span><a href="http://www.sen.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">SEN</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"> on the radio from morning to night. I took the boys to the open training session at Skilled Stadium on the Monday and took them to the Grand Final parade on the Friday. I spent a lot of money on Grand Final tickets for me and my old man.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdAmJ1BaUCPWIS6ciPgkJODJ9QGIMu3bbCv0GTvFRgrzAjp7L20rLvWKgqbvbrN-txsc8oJ1E5hdjUhi6dfCLyFrhVQ28Vye-_-4EBnfslDusIFec5hrHCSOhfxH-Q4zdbdvIqW0Ne0um/s1600-h/BILD1096.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdAmJ1BaUCPWIS6ciPgkJODJ9QGIMu3bbCv0GTvFRgrzAjp7L20rLvWKgqbvbrN-txsc8oJ1E5hdjUhi6dfCLyFrhVQ28Vye-_-4EBnfslDusIFec5hrHCSOhfxH-Q4zdbdvIqW0Ne0um/s320/BILD1096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386765456839212562" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Finally the day arrived and we were off the Grand Final breakfast at Etihad Stadium where we dined on fine cuisine, drank champagne and beer and were entertained by comedians and musicians. But nothing could ease the tension or distract us from the significance of the game ahead. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">As we boarded the bus from Etihad to the MCG the fire in the belly grew. The jaw clenched. The forearms flexed. The </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">us against them</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"> mentality overwhelmed and I looked at St.Kilda supporters with contempt. I hoped, desperately, that it would be them falling to the ground in despair as the final siren sounded, and not us. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />I got my wish. The Cats won their second flag in three years after a gutsy, brutal, desperate game. I'll never forget the elation. After the game a St.Kilda supporter squeezed past me, as the Cats did their lap of honor. He said,’ Congratulations' with a tear in his eye. I said, 'Bad luck, mate. Awesome game' with a tear in mine.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lucQA9jhRZvJOg_3wIedrCC2F9MpFrArsxkHljSEe55VuPysXEBGp-BQoGKOYUebezgn4jG0eIydt4cQBaZv8zU2CQIQVlifDf7vWD_aCthjGEiAVuzDwmPjw6MWlWfrKriFhE7IbBP0/s1600-h/Image233.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lucQA9jhRZvJOg_3wIedrCC2F9MpFrArsxkHljSEe55VuPysXEBGp-BQoGKOYUebezgn4jG0eIydt4cQBaZv8zU2CQIQVlifDf7vWD_aCthjGEiAVuzDwmPjw6MWlWfrKriFhE7IbBP0/s400/Image233.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386758251004662562" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"> </span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">A great day was made even better because I got to share it with my Dad, and good mates Garry and Brendan. It's something we'll have forever. </span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">With this win comes another redrafting of the Top 5 Best Days of My Life. Having thought about it, I probably shouldn't squeeze Archie, Lewis and Tyson into one day just so I can include more Geelong Premierships. They really do deserve there own birthdays (hehe). So here it is -</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br />1. Marriage to Reservoir Mum<br />2. Archie's birth*<br />3. Lewis's birth*<br />4. Tyson's birth*<br />5. 2007 and 2009 Geelong Premierships**</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Just a game?<br />Thank god it's not!</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">*Numbers 2 – 4 are interchangeable.<br />**I know that's technically six days but it's my list, so back off. Hopefully, I can add several more to number 5 in the years to come. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /><br /></span><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/st-7Ez93q6c&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/st-7Ez93q6c&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></span></p></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-4443862531487135582009-09-24T10:36:00.014+10:002009-09-25T07:27:37.475+10:00I'll Show You Some Good Parenting (Take 2)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUI0SnZ7rOQnfmgakjlfxt6fNoqZuWlzTuL2n5LlBDrABydVmyrySEI9OnTwm8C2Q8eird7N-pusIO-YlFGzW23Yo_gtV_fFcG9Dlqb3X5QCPcKrLk1_cp8FqXj2AP7cc8JH2TwUvxqbY/s1600-h/cats.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUI0SnZ7rOQnfmgakjlfxt6fNoqZuWlzTuL2n5LlBDrABydVmyrySEI9OnTwm8C2Q8eird7N-pusIO-YlFGzW23Yo_gtV_fFcG9Dlqb3X5QCPcKrLk1_cp8FqXj2AP7cc8JH2TwUvxqbY/s400/cats.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384852303020752770" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Like every parent, I’ve read a lot, heard a lot and tried a lot of parenting techniques. We shouldn’t push our own agendas on to our kids. That’s the rule isn’t it? We shouldn’t push them in the direction of one particular sport, or one particular profession. We should encourage a diverse range of activities and support them when they begin to find a passion for one or two in particular. As they grow older we shouldn’t form their political or religious beliefs, we should promote an open dialogue, play devil’s advocate occasionally, build a solid base of reasoning so that our kids can form their own ideas and opinions and… and…<br /><br />...and there’s no way in hell my kids are barracking for any team other than the <a href="http://www.gfc.com.au/">Geelong Cats</a>. Yeah. That’s right. I agree with most of the advice in the first paragraph but when it comes to who my kids will pledge their allegiance to, I’m determined to steer them in the right direction.<br /><br />Compare the angels they are now -<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGwfqDtbRo_PH2Jv1nqERXwDL0HWhR4NBUmK2qIGQeLOq2_7Pv9GkyQNjYq5FOBjPrULUwKy-hN8frs3W4HgP4YOTfTImzKMIC8gNkBmSGjvh40j7fesR-75xJp_c0150312NsL6V3UyoR/s1600-h/Image194.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="float:center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGwfqDtbRo_PH2Jv1nqERXwDL0HWhR4NBUmK2qIGQeLOq2_7Pv9GkyQNjYq5FOBjPrULUwKy-hN8frs3W4HgP4YOTfTImzKMIC8gNkBmSGjvh40j7fesR-75xJp_c0150312NsL6V3UyoR/s200/Image194.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384840304509498434" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br />to the people they will become -<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2cIH7ZXywHkXtN4lNrGoeZvfL4xbOLnR0rQb_vQjh5IM5ZBif3mIjuNWNXjBznhBDty-3LCp0dSl6AU1BeYztOSSFdnVavAJB7Vmeige93GiD04QmIJD293ZTB66-V4_P7i0lT846XdB/s1600-h/Image187.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2cIH7ZXywHkXtN4lNrGoeZvfL4xbOLnR0rQb_vQjh5IM5ZBif3mIjuNWNXjBznhBDty-3LCp0dSl6AU1BeYztOSSFdnVavAJB7Vmeige93GiD04QmIJD293ZTB66-V4_P7i0lT846XdB/s200/Image187.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384839622579575346" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br />The second photo is of Brendo, Gazza and myself celebrating the Preliminary Final win against the Pies last weekend. It warms my heart to see the Geelong supporting bogan-ish human-like creature I have become.<br /><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To Archie, Lewis and Tyson. The above photo represents your destiny. I will not let anything stand in the way. That’s why I put the blue and white beanie on your head only hours after you were born, Tyson. Lewis, that’s why I snuck away and hid your soccer ball in the garage when you started to show more interest in it than the glorious </span></span></b></span><a href="http://www.sherrin.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sherrin</span></span></b></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Archie, that's why I always use the plural ‘we’ when discussing the Cats – </span></span></b></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We</span></span></b></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> barrack for the Cats. </span></span></b></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We</span></span></b></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> hate Hawthorn. </span></span></b></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We</span></span></b></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> hope Ablett wins the Brownlow.</span></span></b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />Yes, I have been relentless. And I am already reaping the rewards of my hard work. Archie and Lewis now know the </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhfG0zK2_I4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Geelong team song</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, Archie can also identify several players and Lewis walks around with a toddler-sized Sherrin under his arm (Geelong colors of course). </span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuLbtS-tmr53zh1gubE3vUcgTZl3GKaBCyzuPbkGpmo-a-9q7z7LRDj1y9MjtgirS4SjE6pUxNnTi5odrBtU3VeKOfpweK5rvPVeyUovezUhmLwIJrgBlxN-x_oUU46gC7uTzcpube7FS/s1600-h/Image152.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuLbtS-tmr53zh1gubE3vUcgTZl3GKaBCyzuPbkGpmo-a-9q7z7LRDj1y9MjtgirS4SjE6pUxNnTi5odrBtU3VeKOfpweK5rvPVeyUovezUhmLwIJrgBlxN-x_oUU46gC7uTzcpube7FS/s200/Image152.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384834015568330850" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That’s tear provoking stuff because I know I am molding these young boys into a Geelong Cats-addicted AFL junkies just like me, just like their Pa and just like their late Great-Grandfather. They have now been added to a family history that includes four generations of Geelong supporters and over 90 years of history. </span></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Very soon, probably even next year, three generations of my family will be going to Geelong games together and screaming our guts out. You can’t buy that sort of life-long bonding material. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There are some things, specific to family culture, which overrule all those otherwise solid parenting guidelines. When they are much older I will show Archie and Lewis this rant and they will love me for it. Just like I love my old man for forcing me down this path many years ago. It set up years of Saturday afternoons together. Years of phone calls and visits to discuss ins and outs, injuries, team form, draft choices, disappointments for past seasons and hopes for upcoming seasons. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My Dad was born in 1951 the year the Cats won their first of back-to-back flags. He was clearly too young to remember it. I like to imagine my Grandfather listening to the radio, hanging on every minute of the game. He would have loved it. In 2007 The Mighty Cats won their first flag in 44 years. Dad and I witnessed our first Geelong Premiership together. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Last year was </span></span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2008/09/condolences-at-bottom-of-toilet.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">gut-wrenching</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and I'll say no more about it. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This weekend the Cats are up for their third successive shot at the title. It’s an emotional week. Dad and I will be riding every minute desperate to see the Premiership cup back in the hands of Captain Tom Harley and Coach Mark Thompson. We will party long and hard and I’ll have some great stories for Archie, Lewis and Tyson to pass on to my grandkids. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I love the fact that I had no choice in being a Geelong supporter. I had been at my first day of primary school and was mixing with a lot of wayward Corio kids, a few of who were filling my head with some crazy ideas. When Dad came home from work I ran up to him and said, ‘Dad, I’m barracking for the Bombers now because they Bomb ‘em’’. A very cute, child-like thing to say. Dad dropped his bag, knelt down, looked me in the eye and said, ‘You barrack for The Cats, mate, or you're moving out.’ That’s some pretty special parenting right there. Thanks Dad. Go Cats! Premiers 2007/2009. </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLKPO90cCM8Ii4cfjYu53WatY5H9zNKEs2QMrEbY3NgP0OvEP_dJ7wBwQJNod0enhvoHBJTSE3e07pMGnoWDnSwktubW7HxMDNEkExwowv9yuXNL14Cfdzze2DXAPK8riEPoAKCJK479F/s1600-h/0,5001,5866867,00.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249005840325133570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLKPO90cCM8Ii4cfjYu53WatY5H9zNKEs2QMrEbY3NgP0OvEP_dJ7wBwQJNod0enhvoHBJTSE3e07pMGnoWDnSwktubW7HxMDNEkExwowv9yuXNL14Cfdzze2DXAPK8riEPoAKCJK479F/s200/0,5001,5866867,00.jpg" border="0" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></span></div><br /></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-76533925338208538252009-09-22T16:42:00.014+10:002009-09-23T09:44:25.571+10:00The Smell Of A Good Nugget<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlt4ashSQpMVM5pHaeWDY1ovDR-UmWPn2e5tpheg642N85gDrQcv36H5UpqA2xthFfKLNSKZS3PW6-GpHvV7m5ofmAQr0YKbJO5He6NslRi3Bf2ZdPTw_ryZYWcNOePoFVzastfnNP0o7C/s1600-h/fart.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 113px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlt4ashSQpMVM5pHaeWDY1ovDR-UmWPn2e5tpheg642N85gDrQcv36H5UpqA2xthFfKLNSKZS3PW6-GpHvV7m5ofmAQr0YKbJO5He6NslRi3Bf2ZdPTw_ryZYWcNOePoFVzastfnNP0o7C/s200/fart.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384182755923838418" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> Reservoir Mum really does seem to cop the full blast of Lewis’s toddler-inspired lack of etiquette. Fresh on the heals of being mortified by his </span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/08/speaking-of-stuffed-here-comes-count.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Muslim counting episode</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> she found herself in the overcrowded interior of a Macdonald’s restaurant with Lewis by her side eating a hearty meal of 17%-real-imitation-chicken-flavour Chicken McNuggets.<br /><br />Reservoir Mum isn’t a big fan of MacDonald’s – the rainforest clearing, animal soul devaluing, corporate greed beserking, child brainwashing, smarmy bastards! – and was there only to meet a work colleague. (I feel the same way about Maccas a lot of the time but, occasionally, when I feel very hungry and need a bite real quick I think Macdonald’s is a very yummy restaurant with a nice interior and a great record for socialising fat, slothful teens who are trying to avoid low to moderate to high intensity activity.)<br /><br />Anyway, she was feeling a bit out of place, a bit self-conscious and a bit observed even </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">before</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> Lewis, yelling to be heard over the Macdonald’s chatter and clatter, said,<br /><br />“Mummy, can you smell my pop-off?”<br /><br />Reservoir Mum’s extremities tingled and her face flushed with embarrassment as she whispered forcefully, ‘Lewis! That’s just the way the nuggets smell here.’<br /><br />Poor Reservoir mum. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfgmU91sAdf5rovBklBxb1qtJZI6v-fP7jGKOvOfcJhdWF7Mijod63xNBw2DQvbpJpoSJD47iCN1lgBTGRqYyltShi9W1iwcLnzGm4P71yE70bEiYbtl_2Dx6LAeonC4xAHWa9pQ1LJ_I/s1600-h/ronny.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 181px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfgmU91sAdf5rovBklBxb1qtJZI6v-fP7jGKOvOfcJhdWF7Mijod63xNBw2DQvbpJpoSJD47iCN1lgBTGRqYyltShi9W1iwcLnzGm4P71yE70bEiYbtl_2Dx6LAeonC4xAHWa9pQ1LJ_I/s200/ronny.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384182679262703490" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">She was convinced that everyone was looking at her with a pierced glare, thinking what a terrible mother she was. What else would all the upper class, high-flying Macdonald’s restaurateurs be thinking? I mean, she was eating food in Macdonald’s for Christ sake and not only that she was forcing her children to eat their terrible semi-food products as well. And to top it off her three-year-old was a little filth muppet who made her smell his bodily emissions.<br /><br />Trying to avoid any further mortification, Reservoir Mum tipped some water into the small amount of Coke Zero left in the Macdonald’s cup and gave it to Lewis to keep him quiet, hoping to fade into the chatter and clamour around them.<br /><br />“Thank you Mummy bum-bum!” Lewis said, loudly, as he took a little sip. “MMMMM. Yum! This tastes like beer. I love beer!”<br /><br />I told her that at this stage I would have stood up, kicked over a chair and yelled, “I am a good parent you fuckheads!” spraying Quarter Pounder and spit at them for good measure but she didn’t really think that would change their opinions on her ability to Mother effectively.<br /><br />My opinion is still the same though – you have to give the fans what they really want…<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">And so, here is the next installment of </span><a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-backyard-series-and-buckley-injured.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">My Backyard - The Series</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span lang="EN-US"></span></span></u></p><span><span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">My Backyard 6 – Perspective </span></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Outside, the ducks still run away from me, </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">fighting for the tightest position on the fence. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">They’re quacking quickly and sound like a boiling kettle. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">When I take a step forward, their quacking grows louder. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> As if it helps, they bend then stretch their necks. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">The rain that first made me wet has now made me wetter. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">It’s okay, I’m used to it. And I’ll stay here </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> until the ducks quack less. Until they peck at things </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">and shake their tails. Until they move from the fence </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">and jump in the water. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Inside, the house smells damp </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">suddenly. And I’m thinking about the ducks – </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">their fear, their love of water, </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">their thoughtless, pure actions. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">The channel is turned to Jerry Springer, </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">the sound is down </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">the guests are running madly back and forth, </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> towards and away from each other. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> In my ears are the ducks – their sounds coming back </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">and Jerry makes sense to me </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">suddenly. The way he ridicules us all, </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">the way he ridicules it all </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> to us. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I hope we haven’t sprung a leak </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">but my nose will ignore the damp smell</span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">eventually. I’ll grow used to it. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">In a sense, it will go away – </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">the world is dull outside my window, </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">inside, the world is wonderfully grey.</span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-67678568459627637422009-09-16T11:11:00.008+10:002009-09-16T22:49:31.028+10:00Mud Cake For Your Birthday<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIaHLg2WvaU0YRJtyQTkj9WiVCJSu-LZXegvNmMY43jpkA2pVHBq4MGzXsQ8Oq-nAhiDv2YxmYJ36NJuiBGmqbhwAQKyzmCmfObN5ELwLByOQZkVtL6-WylXn704e62uXP5sCSc6I4kbm/s1600-h/Image027.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIaHLg2WvaU0YRJtyQTkj9WiVCJSu-LZXegvNmMY43jpkA2pVHBq4MGzXsQ8Oq-nAhiDv2YxmYJ36NJuiBGmqbhwAQKyzmCmfObN5ELwLByOQZkVtL6-WylXn704e62uXP5sCSc6I4kbm/s320/Image027.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381867783481147954" /></a>Happy Birthday Dad. Have a look at me in that photo to the left. Forget for a moment that I look like a Penis wearing sunglasses and focus on the fact that you've done a pretty decent job with me. That's what this post's about. I am a happy, <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2008/09/ill-show-you-some-good-parenting-go.html">Geelong Football Club obsessed</a> fully grown man who has stopped dropping mice into boiling water ever since you showed me how much easier it was to simply stomp on their heads. Archie thinks that's great too. And that's how these things work - great ideas and skills get passed from one generation to the next. But teaching me how to killl mice is not the only thing you've done for me. <div><br /></div><div><div>I remember when I was a drowning kid in a fast flowing river. The fact that you had to let go of your favorite fishing rod and lose it to the watery depths to pull me out by my long blond hair really said something to me. Made me feel like I was worthwhile. And when I was diagnosed with a significant illness in my teens the doctor told you to stop smoking and you did that very day. You didn’t start again until I moved out of home and bought you a carton of cigarettes to say thanks.<br /><br />It was a great learning experience for me when you found my first porno mag in my desk and had a stern word with me. ‘If your Mum found this there’d be hell to pay’ you said. When I found it in your cupboard a few months later under some science-fiction paperbacks I understood how important effective hiding spots were. Now, even though I never read them, I always make sure I have several science fiction books in my cupboard (wink).<br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div>I remember how you told me where lamb chops come from. You made it sound so tasty and normal and probably saved me from my brief stint as a crazy vegetarian.<br /><br />I’ve taken your <i>There’s a time and a place for everything</i> mantra to heart and remember clearly when you first took me camping with some mates. I saw you live the mantra, transforming from a reliable, gentle, non-swearing, feminism-supporting Dad to a drunk, farting, swearing, sexist, mate who I could often use to roll over and extinguish the campfire with. Simply awesome Dad.<br /><br /></div><div><div>By forcing me to work with you during the long hot summers - crawling through roofs, under houses, digging trenches, etc - you unknowingly taught me a valuable lesson about hard work that I still live by today. It can be summarized thus - <i>Work is hard, avoid it at all cost</i>.<br /><br />In fact I remember sitting on the porch and saying ‘Dad, why do you enjoy working so much?’ You choked on your Port, laughed and said, ‘No one enjoys work mate. It’s just something you have to do.’ <i>What</i>? I thought, <i>my Dad, who has worked his arse off since his mid teens doesn’t like working?</i>’ It drove me crazy initially but was the beginning of a long search for a professional woman with big earning potential that culminated in my marriage to Reservoir Mum. I am now a living example for men everywhere and I will soon be writing an instructional self-help book titled ‘<b>Work is Hard, Find Your Queen</b>.’<br /><br />These days I often hear you speaking through me when I talk to Archie, Lewis and Tyson. Like when I tuck them in at night and say, ‘There you go mate. Snug as a bug in a rug.’<br /><br />So thanks for everything Dad and Happy Birthday. Had great fun with you at the final last week watching the Cats kick arse. I hope (<i>dear-god-please-oh-shit-please</i>) we can see another Geelong Premiership in a fortnight’s time.<br /><br />The kids say 'Happy Birthday Pa'. I’ll leave you with a picture of a mud cake the kids made for you yesterday. Ingredients used – sand, dirt, slugs, water and their heads.<br /><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kCYoy_FPlf_wHvVIPwGbw8IcqhD18c8iNFVyeCIE-9wdg9Fw547T-MOjF7z7VSQ1o-S0v5aGFsNfdtvHnyS9x4aLkyg7z4bjpb-w_8ZKhNnCCI_HJoL7eq78e4enZmRVIoLypCW8H_DB/s400/DSC01321.jpg" /></div></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-24455459565606939602009-09-02T17:16:00.016+10:002009-09-04T14:53:19.879+10:00The Deformity of Reservoir MumSeems to me that kids start having body issues as soon as they're fully aware that they have one. Tyson held his hand up today and looked at it for a good ten seconds. Going by the look on his four-month-old face, it wouldn't have surprised me to hear him screaming 'Get it off me, its eating my arm!'<div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When I tickled his foot to calm him down he smiled and giggled while his eyes said, "Dad, where the hell is that sensation coming from?"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">"You should be a bit more concerned that your eyes are talking," I replied.</div><div><br />At the shopping centre yesterday, Lewis kept pulling my t-shirt down and pointing out to anyone close by that I had hair everywhere. I tried to distract him with all the pretty lights but he was too persistent and so I tackled it head on:<br /><br /><b>Reservoir Dad</b>: Yep, I'm hairy. You'll grow hair on you chest one day too, mate.<br /><b>Lewis</b>: No. I won't.<br /><b>Reservoir Dad</b>: Yep, you will. </div><div><b>Lewis</b>: I won't!</div><div><b>Reservoir Dad</b>: Uh, you will. You'll get hair everywhere. Be happy. It's cool.</div><div><b>Lewis</b>: Oh, yeah. I will. And on my arms and on my legs and on my hair and my face and eyes and bum-bum (etc etc etc)<br /><br />So going by his enthusiastic little summation, in twenty years we can expect Lewis to turn up to family dinners looking like this -<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzPwGw1PdvXhlhPGQl-egIxmpclmwdW6lcOGYmh1VTQP5rNw3xpx6bCYpVhBOW8tCBw8h6dylmDfLEC4eOnSEaAsw3rTALQfv8K1pQvgxfkkmWIvkDXf2sYeIAoPuQvLyC8tO-lX7ezaW/s1600-h/hairy.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzPwGw1PdvXhlhPGQl-egIxmpclmwdW6lcOGYmh1VTQP5rNw3xpx6bCYpVhBOW8tCBw8h6dylmDfLEC4eOnSEaAsw3rTALQfv8K1pQvgxfkkmWIvkDXf2sYeIAoPuQvLyC8tO-lX7ezaW/s200/hairy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377461545791711506" /></a></div><div>Of course, when it comes to boys (and men) and body image issues, you can't beat the penis (did I just write that?). At this point in time, in our house, it's referred to as the 'willy'. Just so you're sure of what we're referring to, here's one I prepared earlier -</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKFXPzAnGGyRdIStEUTNjuVI0HjrI6w0sMdVyarp04GfIdIqs_skeVbfk-YVC6fkgxJqvceksNc75azLooB-WUv03hlu6Iymj0MtRLW3xlsfIRpf612VCIwdA2hIWseSNrX7DgakGZOht/s1600-h/Mr.+Happy+Penis.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 166px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKFXPzAnGGyRdIStEUTNjuVI0HjrI6w0sMdVyarp04GfIdIqs_skeVbfk-YVC6fkgxJqvceksNc75azLooB-WUv03hlu6Iymj0MtRLW3xlsfIRpf612VCIwdA2hIWseSNrX7DgakGZOht/s320/Mr.+Happy+Penis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377025933657019698" /></a></div><div>Archie, Lewis and Tyson all have one (that's one each, not one between them) and the obsession with them is clear (and familiar). In a few short years Arch and Lewy have shown me the amazing things you can do with a willy. Here's a short list -<br /><ul><li>stretch and twist it, <i>get-the-chewy-off-your-boot</i> style, to the point where it seems like it just might snap</li><li>dip it, by squatting down, into cups, buckets, boots, just about everything</li><li>paint it</li><li>wiggle it enthusiastically by swivelling the hips</li><li>include it in daily conversation</li></ul><div>Being a grown man, who has a willy himself, I fully understand the curiosity/obsession involved and I'm qualified enough to explain to the boys that they will never ever tire of it. Only difference between Reservoir Dad as a child and Reservoir Dad now, is that it was my Mum who told me to 'get my hands off it' in my childhood, these days it's Reservoir Mum.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwMTD-v4Joma2Rhm8z4E1bNbE0tO8fM6SOTKoK1fn1XWcQTWyGp5EF1oHmdS_E_le64TeomWF49Jw-PtD6wMVez9jdOFNVHHvjJeAGaYbqWcMTOEkhB-hHjLKpkIbakn7WxtwOfyGAcp4/s1600-h/DSCF0016.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwMTD-v4Joma2Rhm8z4E1bNbE0tO8fM6SOTKoK1fn1XWcQTWyGp5EF1oHmdS_E_le64TeomWF49Jw-PtD6wMVez9jdOFNVHHvjJeAGaYbqWcMTOEkhB-hHjLKpkIbakn7WxtwOfyGAcp4/s200/DSCF0016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377458441155572306" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Anwyay, thought I'd leave you with this little occurance. When Archie was two-ish and fresh from the exploration and discovery of the willy, he followed Reservoir Mum into the toilet. When Reservoir Mum stood up Archie leaned close, looked at the front of her, then looked at the back of her, and with all the toddler-ish concern he could muster, said:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Mummy? Willy gone...?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Soon, we will have to tell him about the Fagina (stay tuned for future posts on that one!), but for the time being he can go on believing that Mummy's just a little bit deformed in her pants.</div></div></div></div><br /><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/" target="_blank" mce_href="http://www.dad-blogs.com"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img mce_src="/images/stories/dblogo.png" width="154" alt="Dad Blogs" src="http://dad-blogs.com/images/stories/dblogo.png" height="60" /></span></a><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-67552050318742042252009-09-01T11:47:00.018+10:002009-09-01T13:05:52.179+10:00The Reservoir Animal Lovers Society<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuewrAb_4_JnQjUX-Rvg-ORzGYzEjR-gdzT-cY09vGCC1RyN1bTsr08hMcL9N9fDsp6y1zwXYCzfpCS3GquFLz4eBnqxnH83Wn0vb-64npcUmfo5uBCx5D05sXrzxaTxWuejJE5eBw1pI4/s1600-h/BILD0106.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuewrAb_4_JnQjUX-Rvg-ORzGYzEjR-gdzT-cY09vGCC1RyN1bTsr08hMcL9N9fDsp6y1zwXYCzfpCS3GquFLz4eBnqxnH83Wn0vb-64npcUmfo5uBCx5D05sXrzxaTxWuejJE5eBw1pI4/s320/BILD0106.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376322754918968210" /></a><br /><div>Seems that a lot of people think I hate animals and that I'm a bit heartless and that I should be falling into line and getting all gaga over <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-backyard-series-and-buckley-injured.html">Buckley the Dog</a>, <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/08/sam-koala-and-mr-tree.html">Sam the Koala</a>, Bibi and Raden - the hot underwear model. (An aside - a fair number of hits since <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/08/transexual-hugs-wet-man-while.html">this post</a> have come from Google searches like 'Raden in his see-through underwear’, and the even more mirthful ‘transsexual blogpost’.)</div><div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>I want to set the record straight. I don't hate underwear -shit- I mean, animals. I've always had pets. Archie, Lewis and Tyson have pets and will for the time they live under our roof. In fact we have 8 animals on our property. Even more if you count the Sea Monkeys. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>Animals have their place in a well-rounded human’s life. Here are some personal stories that will make it clear that I am an animal lover and hopefully get all you angry emailers (mostly PETA freaks) off my back. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>1. When I was eight my pet cat 'Flippy' ran away. I searched for her for days. Never gave in and finally found her in my next door neighbour’s lounge in front of the heater. I was just so happy. When I got home I shaved her back and wrote my name on her with a permanent marker. That's how much she meant to me. When she died of hypothermia two weeks later I was devastated. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>2. I once caught a mouse on my Nana and Pop's farm and with childhood enthusiasm, called it Mousey. Over a period of minutes I put it in a bucket of water, pretended to fish with it by tying a string to its tail and buried it in sand to watch how long it would take to climb out. It was a warm day and I fell asleep in the sun. When I woke up Mousey was dead. Here's the clincher and the proof that you're looking for – I felt bad about it and admitted my crime to Nana. I was very angry when she laughed and told me to give it to Flippy. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>3. When I was house-sharing in Melbourne I bought my housemate Kylee a little kitten as a present. She called it Schmitten. I accidentally killed it while she was out. I knew Kylee would be heartbroken so I threw the body over our fence. Because it landed on the neighbour’s roof in plain view of anyone walking by I experienced a high level of stress while I helped Kylee search for the little kitten all over the neighbourhood. Several times Kylee looked up towards the sky, as if to see Schmitten flying overhead (which she would have seen if she’d been there earlier) but somehow missed seeing the body on the roof. I swear I saw the little bastard turn its head towards me, more than once.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>4. We used to have two ducks, Floppy and Flap-flap. They were so cute when they were tiny and yellow. I loved them so. Problem was they grew into massive white monsters who shat like automatic tennis ball launchers. In no time at all, our entire backyard was a residential pile of shit. The final straw came when I slipped in it and broke my leg, only days before a powerlifting competition. It was their time to leave but, being the animal lover that I am, I relocated them to a local park with a big pond and dozens of other ducks where they could frolic in virtual duck heaven. A week later the council did a massive culling of all the ducks. Floppy and Flap-Flap frolic no more. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>All these stories provide very strong evidence that I am an animal lover. But the clincher has to be the guilt and horror I live with to this day – </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkrWEbdALaeRKm1QjTaj4msPhTKGtoLCqqVYT0dWa5PLNvmS0mK-NAI1i5ZXCEGouuMfLpotysB-Ii6apGrkA3JJgpIIBvMi0bdlf1rqO19i4rm35x_J7M06NFIlvibQgA9iVrxZsBEfN-/s320/ghost_cat1224426697.jpg" /></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>At night I feel a cold feline body settle at my feet, I hear the pitter-patter of tiny paws on my roof, I see my pillow sinking under a mousey weight and hear ducks shitting with the force and consistency of machine gun fire. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>Why do they come to me to die? <i>Why do they come to me to die?!</i></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>And here is number 5 in <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-backyard-series-and-buckley-injured.html">My Backyard - The Series </a></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span><b>My Backyard 5 - Reflections of a Broken Leg </b></span></span></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span><span>My ducks are uncoordinated, </span></span></div><div><span><span>more suited to swimming than they are to walking. </span></span></div><div><span><span>Their legs are at the back of them. </span></span></div><div><span><span>Their necks carry their heads too far from their bodies. </span></span></div><div><span><span>They are, it seems to me, in a perpetual state of falling forward. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>When I am bored, I walk behind them with intent. </span></span></div><div><span><span>They waddle away from me. </span></span></div><div><span><span>They waddle slowly at first </span></span></div><div><span><span>but the faster I stalk them </span></span></div><div><span><span>the faster they waddle. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>I’ve worked out, over a few months, </span></span></div><div><span><span>that if I raise me knees with each step </span></span></div><div><span><span>the ducks will see this as an increase in pace </span></span></div><div><span><span>and they will waddle faster than their natural structure allows. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>There is something I find rewarding</span></span></div><div><span><span>about increasing the pace of an animal’s gait – </span></span></div><div><span><span>my ducks are armless, </span></span></div><div><span><span>they struggle with balance, </span></span></div><div><span><span>I hate to see them suffer </span></span></div><div><span><span>but when they reach their ultimate speed – </span></span></div><div><span><span>when they fall over and quack </span></span></div><div><span><span>I like it. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>I like it – </span></span></div><div><span><span>that I can cause that to happen is affirming. </span></span></div><div><span><span>Most things are beyond me, </span></span></div><div><span><span>there are things I have no control over </span></span></div><div><span><span>but when the ducks reach their maximum speed, </span></span></div><div><span><span>when they fall over and quack as if their lives were over </span></span></div><div>I like it. </div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>I like it. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>I do.</span></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-67654663030962376072009-08-27T15:50:00.028+10:002009-10-09T18:28:23.451+11:00"At Least" Has Nothing To Do With It<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50VLL0DWDaHVlxJqmvN6ZfgZxFxH32UvUv5BMhXc4fhaM5kYkP8ibaJkgRvfj6bPXC-o4D3s1hMLrtwTqJK4sYy7Z0Cv_v9C5OTgFOnnRF9osMiBh2trSCZ1YOHSuLjV4NevBwba074XE/s1600-h/beer.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50VLL0DWDaHVlxJqmvN6ZfgZxFxH32UvUv5BMhXc4fhaM5kYkP8ibaJkgRvfj6bPXC-o4D3s1hMLrtwTqJK4sYy7Z0Cv_v9C5OTgFOnnRF9osMiBh2trSCZ1YOHSuLjV4NevBwba074XE/s200/beer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374880800644666818" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">This post is for all the halfwits (mostly complete strangers) who continue to imply that our family is somehow incomplete.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">In</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> fact, this post is an open letter to three halfwits in particular - the tooth-challenged woman at the DVD store who asked what the sex of Tyson was and then tilted her head and said, "Awww, you missed out on a girl". It's for the baby-faced Real Estate agent who said, "So, time to try for a girl again?" And it's for the obese Nanna who stopped us on the way out of Archie's Kindergarten yesterday to console us with, "Three Boys? Oh well, at least they’re all healthy".</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">All I really want to do is tell you to go and eat a shit sandwich but before I do that I’m going to say a few things I wish I’d said at the time and make fun of you in the process. Here goes.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">For the record, Reservoir Mum and I never planned for two boys and one girl, or two girls and one boy, or three girls and a partridge in a Plasma TV. Our dream was to have three kids. Why three? Maybe because Reservoir Mum and myself are both from three kid families. Maybe because we had a five-placed dinner table and wanted to fill it. Maybe because I have three testicles and wanted to give them all a run. Who knows? For some reason three felt just right to both of us. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">You hearing this DVD woman? Because I know what you’re thinking, (I’m not psychic but I tell you what – I know this for sure), you’re thinking that we only had a crack at a third child because we wanted a girl. You’re thinking that if we’d had a boy and a girl that we would have skipped on the third and lived happily ever after. You’re saying that Tyson, my brilliant son, was a gamble we lucked out on. That he somehow didn't meet our expectations. That we're dissatisfied with him. Well, while I'm stopping myself from swearing too much and you're readying yourself for a tasty shit sandwhich, we'll have a look at his face –</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJgbrLounEmjHpZPkG-eS2KhkoglrlCT62Umqdp2dT6rVxb-IFs1CGo0qyVFxqiY7bujulYk9_tzMEaiXGLUzEXQylIqdAcnOw48KfbJe5aVErghcNNqfAKEHqZL3azkrQ3i3a-FqXWG2O/s320/DSC01194.JPG" /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">He's our third child. He is </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">exactly</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> what we were wanting. It gets no better than Tyson. And no better than Archie and Lewis. Reservoir Mum and myself have seen many other kids – male, female and hermaphro – and none have ever compared. Our kids are the greatest kids we’ve ever seen.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">You hearing this Nanna three chins? You might want to think about this before you walk up to the next family, stick your face in their pram and downplay their children. At least they’re healthy??? How about you stick ‘at least' up your clacker and we’ll hold on to ‘they’re healthy’ because they </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">are</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> healthy and 'at least' has nothing to do with it. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Maybe you’d be happier if we’d had a retarded female. ‘Well, at least it’s a girl!’</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Bottom line is our dream came true because we have three children. We are in love with them. And very happy. Don’t commiserate with someone who’s won the jackpot. It makes no fricken sense.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">I’ll be carrying the address of this post around on slips of paper in my wallet. Next time someone takes it upon themselves to suggest that our family is somehow incomplete I won’t say a damn thing. I’ll just hand them this post on a platter.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">But just for myself I’m going to reply directly to you three. Let’s hear those comments again </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><b></b></span></span></p></div><span><span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">The woman at the DVD store</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">: Awww. You missed out on a girl…</span></span></span></span></span><div><span><span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Reservoir Dad</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">: Awww. You missed out on some teeth.</span></span></span></span></span><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">The babyfaced Real Estate Agent</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">: So time to try for a girl again? </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Reservoir Dad</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">: So. Time to try for puberty again? </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">The Nana at the Kindergarten</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">: Three boys? Oh well, at least they’re all healthy. </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Reservoir Dad</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">: Three chins? Oh well, at least they’re not hairy. </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Oh, and here’s your shit sandwich. </span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span><div><p class="MsoNormal"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DXjrbyfKyqNKncSqoEDFpNzFsOmQyOnfrfjyNFT0F-vXWUlyHhZzZahaCipFJJ_KfUiTwDDDy5o7_j7-uU24-973SG2EBMs8sQPcxzmwW2MF_Z3xB6xw5se8ygyTjuCH5GWgDOekfCfN/s320/Sandwich_web.jpg" /> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Trust me. It’s in there. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; "><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com/" target="_blank" mce_href="http://www.dad-blogs.com"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img mce_src="/images/stories/dblogo.png" width="154" alt="Dad Blogs" src="http://dad-blogs.com/images/stories/dblogo.png" height="60" /></span></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p></div></div></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-4602812498687393862009-08-20T11:58:00.010+10:002009-08-21T14:36:34.489+10:00Study - Massive Plasma Improves Skills in Children<p class="MsoNormal">This is for all you smug bastards out there who are as sure as shit that television rots the brains of innocent children. Stop sending me the latest studies (sponsored by biased parties like the Australian Society of Libraries or Swingsets Pty Ltd) that 'prove' that kids who watch the most TV are the dumbest, the most violent and the least likely to comply with their Ritalin prescription.</p><p class="MsoNormal">It's simply not true.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I now have rock solid proof that watching television is so beneficial to all children over the age of six months that, from now on, I am going to consult my massive Plasma before I undertake any educational activities with Archie, Lewis and Tyson.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">How am I so sure that television is good for kids? Well, unlike you smarmy, easily swayed parents who base all their decisions on randomised, placebo-controlled trials I prefer to use more reliable <i>anecdotal</i> evidence and specifically, anecdotal evidence as provided by me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:black;">I chucked on a <a href="http://yogabbagabba.com/">Yo Gabba Gabba</a> DVD for Archie and Lewis while I was getting Tyson to sleep the other day. On this particular DVD there's a 'Cool Tricks' section where a young boy hangs a spoon from his nose. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">If I was impressed with the fact that a seasoned performer who was talented enough to appear on a DVD could achieve such a feat, imagine my surprise and joy when I came back downstairs to see this –</p><p class="MsoNormal"> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ4CyMuqRyoF1VNyJPfeKcFlAc77SWyHo75Yp8ZhAACzTDeXWDaHKXN0b_y-0V-CzyoXltsRkcMwf1OV7M2Zkm6LMf7APAMvuRCLgYB6zpsd4kkbEwlABNDw69FKrRikgRl0JvUCSkuUl4/s320/DSC01177.JPG" /> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">TV is bad for kids? TV rots your brains? Don’t try that fluff on me anymore. I am so impressed with my Plasma’s ability to pass on useful skills to my children that, tomorrow, I'm going to chuck on a ‘Home Improvement’ DVD before I head off to put Tyson to sleep.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We<span style="color:black;"> need the house painted, some floorboards replaced and a wall removed. Can’t wait to see what it looks like when I get back downstairs!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">And now to continue <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-backyard-series-and-buckley-injured.html">My Backyard - The Series</a>: </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>My Backyard 4 - Everything That Arises</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p><span><span> When it rains </span></span><div><span><span>my ducks stick their beaks in the mud and search for things – </span></span></div><div><span><span>slugs and bugs I guess. </span></span></div><div><span><span>They have white feathers. </span></span></div><div><span><span>Their whole bodies, apart from the orange bits, are white. </span></span></div><div><span><span>Despite this, they spend hours slurping around out there. </span></span></div><div><span><span>It seems a little strange </span></span></div><div><span><span>but they stick together. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>You should see them – I could watch them forever. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>There is no point to this. </span></span></div><div><span><span>They are ducks. </span></span></div><div><span><span>They stick together. </span></span></div><div><span><span>Their white and orange bits are covered in mud </span></span></div><div><span><span>and, it seems, they are happy. </span></span></div><div><span><span>It’s very challenging, </span></span></div><div><span><span>you have to watch and watch </span></span></div><div><span><span>but if you keep watching, </span></span></div><div><span><span>thoughts you once considered important, will pass </span></span></div><div><span><span>and days of seeing nothing </span></span></div><div><span><span>but white feathers and black mud </span></span></div><div><span><span>will tell you something, at last.</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"></span></p></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-79396986517198856372009-08-17T20:56:00.010+10:002009-08-28T21:51:15.616+10:00Transexual Hugs Wet Man While Strangling Dog<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReV-EiRJerdM9dUgyPG5XMhRyNe0Bjt9AzzQMKX73Ad9KEl6Z6k4yUSpeqb55jTTjGhvov9IID4PslS5lWVO7v_GZuPRw__BsmL1qTcgEiH1AAGPeuKPj4zTDK2EZ35IqZjIhCwAt_LaK/s1600-h/bibi.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReV-EiRJerdM9dUgyPG5XMhRyNe0Bjt9AzzQMKX73Ad9KEl6Z6k4yUSpeqb55jTTjGhvov9IID4PslS5lWVO7v_GZuPRw__BsmL1qTcgEiH1AAGPeuKPj4zTDK2EZ35IqZjIhCwAt_LaK/s320/bibi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370914750143236834" /></a><br /><div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font: normal normal normal 16px/normal 'Times New Roman'; " class="Apple-style-span">Okay, so the title isn't quite capturing the truth. I just thought I'd try to alter the facts of the story, just a little, to get a few more hits. I mean if it's good enough for the major Australian Newspapers...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font: normal normal normal 16px/normal 'Times New Roman'; " class="Apple-style-span">What's this post go to do with home-dadding? Just about nothing apart from the fact that I <i>am</i> a home-Dad (or a house husband, or a domestic engineer, or whatever you wanna call me) and that animal related sensationalism is becoming so regular now that I think we can all pass on the fibre-enforced cereal and keep a hop in our step with the exploits of <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-backyard-series-and-buckley-injured.html">Buckley the Dog</a>'s scholarship fund, <a href="http://reservoirdad.blogspot.com/2009/08/sam-koala-and-mr-tree.html">Sam the stuffed Koala</a>'s right to be sat next to Pharlap and now... well, this - <div><br /></div> <div>Seems that the guy (Raden) in this picture is a hero. Even without knowing the story you can get the gist from the dramatic photo, can't you? He's just jumped from a pier into the swirling waters of Brighton Beach and risked his own life to save a little doggie from certain death. Sue, the terrified owner is obviously so overcome with gratitude that she falls into Raden's arms for an emotional wet embrace. She must really really love that little dog. </div> <div><br /></div> <div>The <a href="http://www.news.com.au/perthnow/story/0,1,25939706-948,00.html">report</a> that goes with the photo makes us aware that after Bibi was blown off the pier, Sue watched on 'helplessly' as Raden 'dived' into the raging sea to save little Bibi. The 'humble hero' then handed Bibi back to Sue but played down his selfless bravery as all 'humble heroes' do.</div> <div><br /></div> <div>Sound like this story should take up Page 3 of a major newspaper? The <a href="http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25938479-2862,00.html">Herald Sun</a> thought so, with the dramatic headline '<b>Hello Bibi, I feared you were gone</b>' and the sub headline '<b>Hero braves stormy weather to rescue pet dog</b>.' It all sounds so stirring and heart-warming and when I see the picture of little Bibi wrapped up in a warm blanket with his fluffy little face and puppy-dog stare I just want to believe everything they're throwing at me.</div> <div><br /></div> <div>Bit worrying then to see a <a href="http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/gallery/0,22010,5059667-5006020-1,00.html">few photos</a> on the Herald Sun website that don't quite match the story. One photo shows Raden casually removing his pants and shoes. Another shows that Raden didn't actually 'dive' into the ocean but lowered himself very tentatively into the soup when Bibi was only a meter from his grasp. </div> <div><br /></div> <div>Sounds like I'm being a bit picky? I also happened to listen to Fox FM's interview with Raden. Seems like the real hero is the photographer of the dramatic scene. He was there long before Raden, watching widdle Bibi paddling around in the surf. It wasn't the screaming and breast thumping anguish from owner Sue that drew Raden to the resuce but the photographer who suggested Raden hop down and get the dog while he snapped a few photos. Even asked if he was carrying any rope so that he could lower himself down!</div> <div><br /></div> <div>Would I have agreed to this? Would I have gone in to get Bibi? I mean he's so cute, the fluffy little bastard, how could I resist? Well, I would resist. Unless of course, there was something in it for me. Maybe if I was an underwear model I might do it because then I could strip down to my Calvin Klein's and do a lot of dancing around in front of a recognised photographer. Pretty good career move. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hey! What? Turns out Raden <i>is</i> an underwear model. So bingo.</div> <div><br /></div> <div>When asked on the <a href="http://www.fox.com.au/listen#">Matt and Jo</a> Show if there was a sense of urgency about the ordeal Raden admitted that he wasn't in 'too much of a hurry' and that Bibi had already been 'in there for a while'. And just before he was about to lower himself into the water Sue, displaying her unconditional love for Bibi, turned to Raden and said, 'Don't worry about it.' </div> <div><br /></div> <div>Not sounding so dramatic and heroic now. </div> <div><br /></div> <div>That didn't stop our Raden though. No, even if Bibi's owner didn't want him saved, the photographer did and urged Raden on! Stirred by the concern the photographer had for the animal, Raden settled himself and uttered these stirring words 'Okay, you just keep taking photos' and committed himself to the welfare of the yapping little shitzu. </div> <div><br /></div> <div>So sounds like everyone, except Sue, is a winner. The photographer has sold photos all over the joint, Raden has had his hot wet modelling ass in major newspapers nationally and internationally as well as exposure through radio and television interviews and Bibi had his dip in the ocean cut short by about five minutes, after which time he would have been gently buffeted to shore. </div> <div><br /></div> <div>Sue on the other hand seems to have got a dog back that she maybe didn't really want. Didn't want to dip her own hand in the ocean to get the dog, did she? Wasn't even thrilled enough in little Bibi to urge someone else to do it for her. She says 'I wasn't quite sure if I could make it to shore with a struggling dog', and I hear 'Stuff it, I'll just get another dog.' (Also evidenced by the photo which indicates she was so upset she couldn't drown the dog that she was going to do her best to choke it to death.) </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Here's a tip, Sue - next time get a heavier dog</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> that's not so likely to get blown of piers. But, seriously, I do understand where you're coming from. We have a few little yap-yap mongrel dogs in our street too. </span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Next time Melbourne has gale force winds, I might just take them for a lead-less stroll on a pier.</span></span></span></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div></div>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6425800992789361615.post-49483537295796710532009-08-14T15:04:00.005+10:002009-08-14T15:45:47.162+10:00Reservoir Dad's Question Nightmares<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OvBZiJXYy3HP3wOeF95o7OX5vrqcu40E-91Dh3WQndnextQyqaM8a_rgu60-LoyIkVKbppsU0PTrCZlq6lgqSp-twAvjRzE7pSzTo1NEtFVHnyUVXnif0iPza1y8VTFJeqWoSuTQTx32/s1600-h/eyeballs.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OvBZiJXYy3HP3wOeF95o7OX5vrqcu40E-91Dh3WQndnextQyqaM8a_rgu60-LoyIkVKbppsU0PTrCZlq6lgqSp-twAvjRzE7pSzTo1NEtFVHnyUVXnif0iPza1y8VTFJeqWoSuTQTx32/s320/eyeballs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369684959677378322" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p>Sometimes after a long 12 – 16 hour day with kids you just want to ship them off to bed as quick as possible so that you can clean and sweep and fold and stuff and crash in front of the TV for some well-deserved Ramsay's <a href="http://www.channel4.com/food/on-tv/ramsays-kitchen-nightmares/">Kitchen Nightmares</a>. (Me and <a href="http://www.gordonramsay.com/">Gordon Ramsay</a> are so alike it’s scary. Sometimes he points at some dull space cadet and says something like ‘You’re a fucking idiot’ and I can’t help but chuckle in amazement at how I was thinking the exact same thing.)</o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">It’s when you’re absolutely knackered and pressured for time like this that you’re less likely to patiently answer a child’s left-field questions in a rational manner. And this may explain my response to Archie’s question ‘how do our eyeballs get inside our heads’ while we were cleaning our teeth last night.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">It is a very good question and sits comfortably aside such classics as ‘Why is everything so green?’, ‘Why doesn’t my shoe have teeth?’ and ‘How come Gran is getting smaller?’</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">All home Dads know that questions like these are much easier to handle after several beers and a six pack of Red Bull but they weren’t within reach and, anyway, Archie’s going to have to wait until he’s sixteen to start experimenting with alcohol and stimulants (okay, okay – fourteen, by today’s standards, but don’t let them listen to the IPod too loud alright, it’ll damage their ears!)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">So anyway, Archie asks me how our eyeballs get inside our heads and I tell him that the Porcelain Doctor, who makes little boys, collects the crystallized raindrops that fall from the sky after meteors smash though the clouds. Then he dips one end of each raindrop in either blueberry sauce, chocolate pudding or green stuff and pops them into our skulls.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I thought that might give him something to think about while he got to brushing his teeth but instead he put his toothbrush down, touched the side of his eye and said, ‘I want to take them out’.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I could hear the clock ticking and Gordan Ramsay standing behind me saying, ‘Are you a fucking nitwit, get him to bed for fuck’s sake’ and I turned the toothbrush over and said, ‘You can gouge your eyes out with this, or you can wait until tomorrow and I’ll buy you some marbles.’</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Thankfully he chose the marble option and we got off to bed quick-smart so that ‘tomorrow will come quicker’.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Later that night Gordon Ramsay slapped his hand in frustration and said, ‘Fuck me!’</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Talk about being on the same wavelength! That man is my Dr Phil. Yeah, and </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOs-p6Pd5fs">what he said</a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> about Tracey Grimshaw was spot on.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: -webkit-monospace; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; "><a href="http://www.dad-blogs.com" target="_blank" mce_href="http://www.dad-blogs.com"><img mce_src="/images/stories/dblogo.png" width="154" alt="Dad Blogs" src="http://dad-blogs.com/images/stories/dblogo.png" height="60" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Reservoir Dadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15315079208788660727noreply@blogger.com5