Zombie ghosts are easily killed by shoving them into common household freezers.

Finished reading The Children of Hurin. I personally liked it. Sometimes Tolkien goes a bit funny, giving everything several names at times. Meh. I like his writing. Feels like I'l reading real life ancient mythology.

But that's just me.

And this book is quite a bit darker than any of his other stories.

Murder. Slavery. Implied rape. Incest.

Didn't see any of that in Lotr, didja?

And I must say, it has inspired me to write up and research for part of my own story-thing.


And oi, Glynnis, the Ke now have an ancient homeland.

I purchased the Children of Hurin today.

Sell me your childrens...

Shall be reading that for a little bit. Tolkien's been dead 30 or 40 years now, and there's a new book with his name on it. Well, old technically. It's only just been put together from vrious manuscripts by his son.

Also extended the borrowing time on two of my library books.

I think I'm hungry.

PIE *arg-ent- "silver, white"

(Pseudo) P.Gmc *arkenth "silver, crystal", related to *Arkentiz/*Arkentin, "the moon"



I think I need a new hobby.

Modest, inquisitive, flexible, passive and solitary. Stole the linky from Glynnis.

I think I like my daemon.

Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.

I've been thinking about having a 21st party this year.

And the carpet in the school staff room smells.

Fucking. Computers.

Anyone know how to fix MSXML 4.0?

What the hell is it anyway?

And why won't microsoft allow me to simply download a bloody replacement???

Went back to work today. Holiday cleaning. Some of the teachers are rather... ick with their food. As in they left food to rot for the past week. Ordinarily this would've been cleaned up by my mother (it's her school) on the last day of term, but she left before a lot of the teachers. I think the worst one was the remains of a pear in a mug. The top of the pear was visible. The rest had pretty much disintigrated into brown gunk. Oh, with bugs. Looked like dead maggots.

And I'm fairly sure I found a pubic hair on a desk in the head office.

Just thought y'might like to know.

...

*pops*

I was going to write down all of my problems with the Axis Trilogy written by Sara Douglass... But it is proving overly-long. And comprises solely of me bitching about the points I don't like... which is just about everything... hmm... Anyway, it's being all disjointed and going off in different tangents. Seems I can't write a book review. Meh. Hey, seems I can barely write myself, so what right have I got to bitch?

I will say this though... because of her work, I have developed a near hatred for the word "appalled". Ms. Douglass uses that bloody word far too much. Sometimes it appears two or three times on a single page.

I've read her first three books. I have no intention of reading anything else written by her. She's been put with David Eddings, in the "remember that this is crap" folder in my brain.





On a less frustrating note... I miss Kathy. Well okay, frustrating because I want to see her. But not angry-frustrating. Not frustrating in the sense of "why did I spend my valuable moneys on these crappy books when they could've gone towards other books. Or a laptop. Or doughnuts."

I just want to hold her in my arms and just... just see her again.

*Shuts up*