Thorpie Says “I Fully Quit!”

The Thorpedo retired yesterday and that's what I came up with on my own, making Wife blow a little bit of the clear kind of snot out her nose.

And I'm not even FROM here. Heh.

NO, I'm not linking and all that. You can look 'im up.

Faaawksakes. Here:

The champion swimmer announced yesterday that he has quit the sport at just 24 years of age.

It brings to an end a remarkable era in Australian swimming, Thorpe having dominated events on the national and world stage for the best part of a decade.

The career tumble-turn began during his recent stint in Los Angeles, where he says he started to look at his life in a new light, and decided that swimming is no longer the top priority.

The Olympic champion told a packed news conference it was a difficult decision to make but conceded 'swimming was no longer a top priority' and said he wants to concentrate on other challenges.

Thorpe's list of achievements include; five Olympic gold medals, ten Commonwealth Games gold, 11 World Championship titles, and nine Pan Pacific gold medals.

He's also set 21 World Records.

That's NewsieSpeak for "Yet another Aussie who whupped him a whole lotta ass."

And my kids love his cereal.

I think.

Or maybe his is the one that's got more chocolate and honey and syrup and shit in it. Crap, I forget, but it's the one with his picture and quote on it and we make more fun of it than we do "Tang".

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Stuck in muffuckin traffic this morning and late for Weekly Company Meeting only to find out that Boss was late too and meeting was postponed.

Wrote to Wife, "T'ain't Fair.

Huhuh, "T'ain't Fair" sounds like lots of wrinkly patches of funny-looking skin walking around eating Cotton Candy, riding Roller Coasters and trying to win Teddy Bears."

I fkn kill me.

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Tired of thinking about writing a Final Goodbye for this diary.

Tired of thinking that I need to write a freakin' novel every time I'm on here.

Funny shit gets said and thought of and whispered across pillows and yelled through the shower steam. Every. Damn. Day.

Why not write it down and share it?

Mebbe even make some snot blow out. Not the big ones either, that bounce when they hit your pant leg, but the kind that's clear and a bit runny and people only notice when you try and wipe it up.

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Buddy casually walks up to Wife and says, "Guess what."

Not as instinctually inclined as myself to shoot back a quick "Chicken's Butt!" she simply asks, "What?"

"Bunnies," he even-more-casually replies, "that's all" and then walks away.

That's my Boy.

Trick. Or Treat.

Through the seemingly constant cries of "but we're NOT American!" we did it. Me and my boy braved the cold and cruel elements to do our part for the propagation of my cultural identity.

We went Trick-or-Treating.

And by "cold and cruel" I mean... um... ha ha, it's Spring here.

Wife had a few rows with some e-folks about the origins of the celebration of Hallowe'en (which is why I now spell it "correctly" after ResearchGirl sprung into super action) and I was prepared for the worst to greet us. I figured we'd get a few "we don't celebrate that" or "you're not in America anymore" or even "only freaks and pagans scoop still-steaming goat entrails onto their heads whilst screaming at the moon and rubbing themselves in poo... and we're not them."

I understand that it's a Consumer Culture, which can sometimes be construed as an all-devouring beast hell-bent on World Domination. I understand that there's a difference between wanting to be like America for the cool shit, like 35 Cent and his G Unit and the ways that he carjacks and fires an Uzi, and NOT wanting to be like America for the dumb shit, like... well... the same shit really.

The hypocrisy is not lost on me though, when I am told in one breath that Burger King is called Hungry Jacks and the signature food item of this entire continent, Vegemite, is owned by Kraft, an American company, then in another I am told that "We're NOT American, so we don't celebrate Hallowe'en" (though they don't spell it properly when they say it).

Sidenote

I almost officially renounced my country after the recent announcement concerning the "V" stuff. Seriously. What the fuck?

I don't give 5 shits if customs comes to my house and GW himself mispronounces some words while arresting me, I stowed some of that wonderfully pasty brown stuff in a package to Mom just yesterday.

It's awesome and one of the 3 Best Ways to start the day aside from coffee and sex. Almost in that order.

/Sidenote

I listen to an extremely popular radio DJ poke a bit of fun of the "holiday", saying that it's not exactly necessary to glom on so wholeheartedly to the American bullshit right fucking before he plays a song by The Fray (whom I frickin' LOVE, don't get me wrong, and are even from Denver) that gained overnight popularity of insane proportions from a TV show.

An American TV Show. About doctors and drama and sex 'n shit.

The Morning Show DJs take this show, which had some serious dramatastic finale the night before, and TALK ABOUT IT ALL FKN MORNING. Then, when they play the song, it's got lines from the show interspersed throughout it.

The Song. On the RADIO. HAD TV IN IT. The AMERICAN Song had AMERICAN TV in it.

But you're too fucking hotshit for Hallowfuckingwe'en. Gotcha.

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I'm not the warrior that Wife is, so I simply stated my argument against this line of thinking as "I AM American... and lollies... I mean, candy." I'd like to thank my sis-in-law for that line, coz really. Loll... crap, Candy.

Free Candy.

Jeezus-H-Crickets-stuck-in-a-Roach Motel, is there anybody who doesn't like dressing up and pretending to be something else?

And Free Fucking Candy?!?

My little girl had previously decided to be very naughty and blatantly ignore some very steadfast rules, so she missed out on the fun, but Buddy had a freakin' great time.

While sorting his booty in the kitchen, he quietly and earnestly told Wife that he really liked Trick or Treating, "I was a bit shy though" he admits, "but I got used to going to other people's houses."

Testament to the Wonder that is this child, his first instinct for the first 3 houses was to give THEM the candy. He honestly thought that the whole idea was to go door-to-door and give out candy, as that's what we do when people knock on our door.

Heh, though we only had 4 visitors, they came in a group, and they weren't wearing anything other than their school uniforms. The red-headed, heavily freckled one carrying the skateboard was wearing his backwards, Wild Man that he is, and he busted out some of the best Human Beat Box that I'd heard in a while. Seriously, my inner Talent Scout wanted to sign him to a contract.

The only redeeming thing that I heard from the radio talent was a story exactly like that, where he'd heard that in America they spend weeks planning and decorating houses and children, and when doors are banged upon a loud screeching "TRICK OR TREAT" is the cheer.

By a decent contrast, he received a trio of yardapes much like us, who were wearing nothing other than street clothes, and who greeted him answering the door with a shuffling of feet and a grumbling, "got any lollies?"

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8 of the 20 houses later and the end of our "circle" completed, we'd netted a bag of Smith's Chips, a 2 dollar coin, some chocolates that we got to pluck from a tray that was obviously an Anniversary Gift, a couple of Cherry Ripe's from the boho backpackers that had just come back from Craving Shopping, and yes... some lollies.

We made some friends, we met some of our neighbors close up, and got nothing but rave reviews for the "little Ninja man!" even from the old Asian lady whose dinner we apparently interrupted and who had no freakin' idea what we were on about until I repeated (for the 3rd time) "Happy Hallowe'en!"

So embrace some �Merican Shit or don't. But, if there is any reason to loosen your sphincter up and ditch that goddam hypocrisy about my culture, I can't think of a better one right now than dressing up in something cool, visiting all of my neighbors, and wangling some free candy.