Holidays

So the first term went all right. But all in all it was school, wasn't it? Oh, I did have the production (being West Side Story) and that was pretty awesome. Wicked fun all the way through, and the after party was quite memorable. I brought Paige. Yeah, I bring her everywhere now. Awesome, I know. She even came to Easter with our family (didn't she do well?) with declans and photos and foood and chocolate. After that it was pretty much the holidays where all life is real and happy and good. So we decided to go to thoms birthday party and make him turn 18. It was good fun.

Holiday activities include; hanging out with Paige way too much; cooking (mashed potatoes (twice), salsa, indian, mexican breakfast (for dinner), pasta out of thin air etc etc....etc); eating said food; drinking responsibly; sexy parties; sleeping... oh so much sleep; gig wenting (sidewalk meese, rackets, and others....happy birthday georgia by the by...); singing; watching films (finally make paige watch Superbad and Dirty Dancing... a couple of my favourites); anniversaring (bookaramaing... as well as duck feeding, hand holding, park kissing, bagel eating, movies watching, food eating.. all the good things); fort building (ROMG!); homework avoiding; bike riding; walking; room cleaning; new queen size bed assembling; napping in said queen size bed too much; and more things which probably come up in these photos...

Mugger Baby

(this is an old story that I forgot about. Happy Tuesday everyone)

I went down to Paiges to have misc. adventures with her and Thom. When I arrived at the playground, Awesome Alex and Paige were on the swings, and Paige had bread, and Thom was late. So someone suggested we teach Alex DUCKDAFUCK (one reason being alex is petrified of birds so that would be lols in itself) and so we ventured to Jelly Park to commence game.

Alex, as it happened, was EXTREMELY terrified of all the ducks. And unnaturally terrible at duckdafuck. Paige on the upper hand kicked ass (AGAIN) and much chuffing and huffing was had. At the near climax of the game however, we noticed a trio of swaggering clots heading our way, annonymous bourbon cola drinks in hand. A ginga child approached me, strangely oblivious to the pretty girls sitting next to me and mumbled "Hey, you want to fight?".
"Uh... what, sorry?"
"You wanna fight man, c'mon! Letss go" he said, bringing his fists up, slightly overbalancing.
"Uhmm, no thanks," I said, turning away, and laughing quietly, but quietly scared. He was small, but I try and avoid fights as much as I can. His mate wandered over. He had slick black hair and gross pimples, as well as a heavy looking black square backpack. He was around the same age, maybe slightly older, but nonetheless takes his lead from the littler ginga child. He decides joins in on the fun, giggling and supporting his friend.
"Well den can I have ten dolluz for ma bus? I need to get hoome man..." said the small ginga child, reaching over for my backpack (which happened to have Oli's digital delay pedal in it, a small token worth around 200 dollars). I roared maliciously with laughter and said "No," an answer he obviously had some grievance with.

"C'mon man! I need to get home ae..." and started reaching towards my bag. I pulled it away from him, telling him to "Fuck off!" he swaggered away, around the back of the bench. I shared a worried glance with Paige. With the poise of a drowned goose, he ripped Paiges bag away from behind her and started to run off, riffling through it. Paige jumped up, shouting various insults and suggesting various activities. The drunkard, realising he was stealing from a girl (harbingers of loveliness), reluctantly dropped her bag. Pimple Git, however, was back in front of me. "C'mon man, give us ten bucks!"

I walked over to Paige. She was having words with General Ginga. He didn't seem to be keen at all on leaving. I opened my mouth; "How old are you guys?"
"Sixteen" was the immediate and resoundingly confident answer. My age. Fuck. How young do I look? I wondered. "Well you don't look it. Do you parents know that you guys are drinking in a park? Or harrassing strangers?" I said. Sure I felt like a dick, but I wanted them to leave, "Are you guys honestly trying to mug us?"
"Nah man," Ginga replied, "Our parents don't give a shit about us anyways," he said looking for support from Pimple Git. He nodded, grinning. "Yeeauah, and drinking what? Were just enjoying a lovely evening." he noted, motioning towards the park he noticed he was in.
"You guys are fucking drunk! You stink!"
"No we don't!" replied Ginga, worried.
"And you've got a whole bag full of booze I bet," I said, pointing at Pimple Git, "What if the cops caught you with that?" This worried them. They got angry.
"Don't you fucking call the cops!! I'll beat you up," cried Ginga, sloshing drink.
"I hear they're on bikes now. They're fast. They could get here like that! And then you'd be fucked, wouldn't you?" At this, Ginga casually hid his rum and coke mixer bitch drink under his rip curl t shirt. It was at this moment that the third mugger spoke up. He was the worried one, standing back from this whole encounter. He had a round baby face and pretty boy brown hair, and long cargo pants. He stood back with eyes down, rocking from foot to foot. I'm dubbing him Baby Bitch.
"Uh, err... should we just go?" squeaked Baby Bitch, from five metres back.
"Shut the fuck up Josh!" spat Ginga.
"Josh?" I said, laughing. I had the little one, "Your names Josh? I've got your name now. You guys are fucked," and started to pull out my cell phone, flipping it open. Baby Bitch started to freak, and Pimple Git strode forward towards me. Before he could get there, Ginga punched me in my ear.

"Oh..." I said, honestly shocked. No one likes getting punched. But in my ear? Man, thats weak, I thought. Baby Bitch stepped in again, pleading for them to go. My ear was ringing so I didn't hear him exactly, although he probably said, "Man, we shouldn't mess with this guy. He looks like trouble. And were all sooks remember? Let's go home and have a group bath."

"Fuck off!!" I shouted, turning to see my female comrades with a mix of worry and admiration in their eyes. Yes. Hero. I held my cell phone up to my wounded ear.
"Okay man," he said, with reasoning, "Don't call the cops," his voice cracking slightly.
"Then fuck off!" I said. Looking towards Paige and Alex, we started to walk away.
"Okay okay!" cried Ginga, "shake on it. You won't call the cops." He held out his slightly pudgy sweat hand. I took a moment, then shook, making sure to patronisingly shake my head as I did so, probably saying something like, "Oh you kids. What a ruckass. Now, go home and tell your mothers you love them."

We walked off, as Pimple Git shouted abusive nonsensicle taunts at Alex, we knew we were now safe. Hero.

The *Afformetioned* Duck Feeding Game (AKA Duckdafuck)

Okay... here we goes. I feel sort of bad sharing this game because its too awesome, but whatevs. I'm impulsive and just too nice.

PREAMBLE

Ever gone duck feeding and been like; "Man... This is exactly like last time. I WISH there was something more to this!" Well, I did once. And so me and Paige competed in the first (and ever, so far) game of DUCKDAFUCK, the best bread orientated duck fun ever*!

REQUIREMENTS

Two or more people

Generic bagged bread (opt. mouldy)

Ducks (make sure you have lots. If you have only a couple then thats cheating and your boring and you chose a really bad place to feed ducks you idiot)

A pad and paper (for score keeping.. yay tally graphs!)

HOW TO PLAY?

Well... it's very easy. More or less, it's an aim game.

Player A, please choose a duck. Now, point too that duck and make sure Player B knows which one you're refering to by saying something like "The baby one with the twitchy head" or "The male teenage one with the gimpy foot" or "THAT one!"

Next, Player B, making certain that you know which duck you've been assigned, throw a bit of bread at it. Your goal is to feed it (It has to eat the bread that you throw at it... duh). For each piece of bread that you fail with, make a mark on a tally graph, like so;

Next; swap the bread for the pad and go again. This time, Player B challenges Player A and so on and so forth until you've gotten sick of the game (impossible) or until you run out of bread (much more likely).

THE WINNER

Play by golf scores. The person with the least tallys on their graph wins. But wins what?...

Always have a prize. It makes it way more fierce. You can decide on whatever you want. Maybe make it a slap bet! (dangerous). Me and Paige were competing for a kick ass round blue exercise cone thing that you might use for goal posts or something in PE. It worked as a mad hat. I didn't really mind when Paige won because it didn't even fit me anyway.... *cries*


HINT... The whole game rests on what duck you challenge. If you give your opponent a real whimpy duck to try and feed, chances are they'l spend ages trying to feed it while the bigger scarier ducks steal its food. You'll probably win through this tactic. I lost through this exact ploy.

This game may sound real easy to the non-duck feeders reading this post. But anyone who has fed ducks knows how crazy competitive they get. ALMOST as competitive as you'll get playing this kick ass game.

*besides duck sandwiches

Dude, I got no time for haters.

Man. Man oh man. Things are great.

It really takes the awesomeness of the first two days of non-school to make me realise how soul destroying school life actually is, for me anyway. Such a weight is gone. And it kicks fucking ass. Oh, no no... of course I'm not thinking about how much crazy shit I have to get done next year. I'll let future Callum sort that shit out. Two days. I can't believe it.

Oli and I were talking about on the way home from nothing today (as we often do on such a lovely walking day) that we're slowly conquering our little fears. Like when Oli jumped that river (it SOO happened! Totes). Or at least he is. But I will too. From now on. It's just stupid to avoid them because they mean nothing, and they change nothing if you stick to them. But if you break them, it feels so damn good. That little self pride of conquering fear really sets you up to enjoy awesomeness and notice the little things. Noticing serendipitous moments. Making fun out of anything. Turning things into games (NB. ANYTHING can become a game. Just add some rule too it that makes it fun... a punishment, a bet, even a tally graph to keep score of something boring. Its childish, but thats exactly the point). Sure I sound pretentious and self uppity but dammit I'm happy.

Oh, I can't believe I havn't told you this story yet. Its another duck feeding story. With Paige. Thats our thing. So there we were, jelly park pond, feeding swarms of crazy ducks. Like swarms. They were going nutto over this bread, honestly. It was a little scary. Well for me, lots of things are scary. But they were so competitive and nasty. So we turned it into a kick ass game (which i'll talk about in my next post... its honestly amazing. I cant understand why I haven't told you!). When we ran out of bread there was a lull in conversation. Not akward or anything... just a break from the intense action of the moments preceeding. I picked up a stick and prepared to aimlessly throw it into the water. "Man, it would be so awesome if we had a dog" I said, slightly bored as the stick splashed into the water. And then, in a streak of black fur a crazed happy mass of paws bolted past and bundled into the river. It was only when the thing had dropped the retrieved stick at our feet and prepared to shake the water off that I realised...

I had summoned a dog.

Unbelievable? Believe it. I told Oli this story today on the way home from nowhere today and he said "Wow... what did you do to deserve that sort of awesomness? Thats like three fonterra guys worth of good fortune."

Oh the fonterra guy... you wouldnt get that reference would you? Oh ill tell you the story later. First, the game.