Ode to Clem

I saw a bird Oh pointy pointy
Sitting on a sign
The sign said “Clem’s” Oh pointy pointy
Chicken sans red wine

I took three steps and saw before me
Poultry products pure and true
Vegies, salads, chicken fried
And some was BBQ

So began a love affair
Between Clem’s food and me
Unfaithful though I’ve been – it’s true
For I’ve known KFC

But KFC to me is worse
than the worst of sloppy seconds
You’re my number one guy, Clem
Forget what Sanders reckons

Clem’s has heart, an old school feel,
Attractive staff who keep it real
Portions that are well proportioned
Perfect? Yes, but heed this caution

A Clementine visit can only proceed
With these conditions attached to the feed:
You mustn’t have been in 180 days
The moon must be in its 13th phase
Your cravings so bad you can hardly breathe
Your wallet ready for you to unsheathe
Accompany none who deride greasy fare
Or accompany none if you don’t want to share
Last but not least an optional feat
I also recommend taking a seat
Watching the phone booth and 7-11,
The King St shufflers and backfiring mufflers
While you sit in Clementine heaven

Follow these rules ‘fore your next Lunch Pack
And these words you’ll speak “Clem, I love you. I’ll be back”

Pot Pourri Fury

Mandatory sporting reference. It's the exciting French Open, set amidst the orange clay of the Roland Garros (soon to be renamed Pepe Le Pew) Stadium. This means two things. 1) People wonder whether Federer will ever win. 2) Wimbledon is just around the corner.

If you have the time, invest it here. A short clip from the critically acclaimed but yet to be released in cinemas or on dvd Mojave Phone Booth (see my links bar <--) is now available on YouTube. At risk of offending my life insurance company, I won't post the link here, but I urge you to investigate for yourself.

What the dickens is going on here? Australia's greenhouse gas emissions per unit of GDP are the highest in the OECD, and in major areas are still growing. Emissions have increased by 30% since 1990.

Art is in your life. I saw an art (entitled Corvus, which is latin for wang) at the Carriageworks last night. This really is a sterling venue - I can't recommend it highly enough.

Vicarious Joy

Even though it's not mine, even though it's not my family's, the news of the birth of a child to a good friend of mine brings me great joy and excitement. Cheers to the little fallah, his ma and his papa, who i've known since he was a quiet, thoughtful year eighter with a penchant for creative writing in English Class, one foot in the world of his Grecian familial relations, one in the street-walkin', arcade game-clickin', gadang smokin' marrickville youth community, one in the brainy, handball playin', up and coming world of selective high schools.

On impulse sweets buying

Today I decided to leave the office during lunch, 'cause that's a good thing to do. From somewhere the thought came that I could buy something sweet. A donut, perhaps. A custard tart, perchance. These kind of thoughts sometimes come to me after lunch, on the way home, and occasionally on a saturday morning if I'm fetching the newspaper. I'd say I indulge my sweet tooth in this fashion - impromptu sweets purchase - once every week or three.

The problem is, it sometimes backfires.
Sometimes, there are negative consequences. These can range from poor quality food, to ruining my appetite, to guilt at sugar and fat intake. This will inevitably be accompanied by rueing the lost money (proportionate to cost of sweet) and tired realisation that, as the Crash Test Dummies sang, "You've Done it Once Again".

So today I was faced with a foreign environment - Haymerket / lower CBD and mere seconds to make my decision. I bought a chocolate eclair from an Asian bakery, at the expense of a custard tart. Something told me to try the eclair. Well, I tried it alright. And it was 99% cream! The pastry was passable, the chocolate pleasantly sweet. But it was practically a cream balloon, rather than a cream sandwich.

I am doing better, I tell myself. I don't make the same mistakes I used to. But just when you think you're getting out, they pull you back in. I can do better. I will do better. I did better! I mean, I will do better.

How quickly hopes change

Golden State looked shot at one point this season. Actually, at many points they were shot. They had to win nine of their last ten games to scrape into the playoffs, for the first time in 13 years. Holy moly! So there was an expectation wildly exceeded. That wild excess seemed like nothing when the Warriors, as seed number eight of eight, beat the number one seed, Dallas in six games, 4-2. Holy cow! So of course, expectations went up, even though they'd been met in the same way that a freight train meets a bug on the tracks.

What happened next? Four of five ESPN employees picked the Warriors to beat the Jazz. Even though they're supposedly, purportedly, reputedly, allegedly the underdogs. When everyone is on them, there's only one way to go.

And yet at the end of game 1, when I clicked onto the ESPN scoreboard, there it was: GSW 116 beat Utah 112. On closer inspection it was actually the other way round. So they lost. But it was at Utah, and they did have a chance right at the end. So what now? Maybe they bounce back, shock the Jazz at home and go back to Oakland with their insane crowd for games three and four. Or maybe they lose, maybe they lose badly, and come back home with just that slight dent in their halo. Hell, they could be out in four games. Then everyone would be crushed, Dallas a distant memory. At the start of the series I thought the Warriors were a real chance. If they can snatch game 2, they'll win the whole thing. If not, well.... who gives a crap anyway.