Beat this:

A pretty girl challenged me to a game of eyeball.
She beat me at chess last December and I never heard the end of it.

I hate to lose.

Post your scores in the comments.

Man Bites Dog

New York Sun editor John B. Bogart said: "When a dog bites a man, that is not news, because it happens so often. But if a man bites a dog, that is news."


- which partly explains my silence over the last week.


Today I read an article titled 'Man Stabs Dog'. I read the article only a few hours ago and cannot remember the who, where, how or why, and that made me think, a man really has to bite a dog for it to be news.

My only story at the moment is my island, the one I am building.
Tonight I started with my submarine - every island needs one.

The story of my night is: 'I wonder whether the submarine is a bit too yellow?'
That's not a story is it?

I did mess some paint on my hands, so perhaps I could say:
"Submarine Paints Man - Yellow!"

5 star service

Staring into a mirror, is a good exercise.

Revealing, surprising and humbling in a way.
It's being your own critic, and that is real life I guess.

Though I don't know if I would suggest doing it for too long, because over enough time it does a weird thing to you that I still can't work out whether or not is good.

I remember whilst working at the orphanage in Lucre, Peru, I used to do just the opposite. I discovered it as one does all the good stuff -by accident. When you don't see your own face for long enough (3 weeks is minimum) and then you do,

it feels like how it might feel doing it the first time,
or...
you know when people watch animals looking at themselves in the mirror
- it feels like how everyone wants the animals to feel:

oh, that's me! Oh I never knew... uh ah ew oh. (awe/wonder/self awarenes)

The longer you go without seeing your face the closer you get to that and well, the bigger the freak out I guess.

Yesterday I recorded myself alone in my car, talking about everything that mattered to me.
When you are alone you can say anything, you can talk to a stuffed elephant and tickle it's chin.

I sat down at M & A, ordered a pizza.
A simple pizza,
some water.

I was listening to the tape recording of me which sounded too much like Timothy Tredwell's rants for my liking.

pizza: average
service: excellant

The waiter fussed over me like it was his first day, or my last.

When he brought the bill he asked:

"are you some kind of journalist?"

"storyteller" I said, peaking at my reflection in the credit card machine as I entered my pin.

"Like a film maker of some kind"

"Something like that, or I guess I'm trying to be"

"oh, I thought you were a journalist, I was so worried you were here to crit the food."

Save The Tape

Jessica: sorry that you cried...

It must have been hectic to try steer the bike and cry at the same time. That sucks.

me: I was in my car

and they were the best tears I ever cried,

because they represented my every want

every want I have ever had

and every want I will ever want.

Jessica: cool. Im glad it wasn't a bad cry.

me: no it was like... when you stare into the face of a jaguar shark and its so beautiful.

Jessica: Now I want to stare into the face of a jag shark.

me: That is just the thing

when I am on that island... the world will get to do it with me every day

Sent at 10:53 on Friday

Jessica's new status message - Save the tape. 10:55

The seat of God

Today I cried.

Like a baby, all the way to work.

A few days ago I told my friend Trevor about my idea. My idea to get the best job in the world.
My application video would be just me, being flown far out to sea in a helicopter. Far out enough that you start to imagine you can see the land, and then

-jump.

Nothing I could think of at the time could quite sum up how much I love the ocean and how much I want to tell the world a story about the great barrier reef every week.

Trevor said:

"Wow. This one really touched me. Ah man, like you want to live with the fish but you never can. You should go read the original little mermaid story, not the Disney one but the original. You’re kind of like the reverse of that.

Being dropped in the ocean like this and then what... that’s too easy still. But then you get to swim with them. You get to dip down there for a little while. But you can never stay. That’s the heart of the ocean. That’s costeau’s truth. Is that he has to come up for air. He can’t be in the seat of god all the time. He has to come up for air because he’s always going to be a human. Ah that’s really sad now that I think about it.

Still, I like it. It’s fierce."

I sobbed my heart out,

because I can't be at the seat of God all the time.

Partial nudity

The night before last I was telling Emil about my mother's violent withdrawal symptoms from what any new age herbal therapist would classify as a chronic tea addiction.

Emil states with absolute conviction, "well tea contains more caffeine than coffee".
With a little more conviction I challenged his statement, and proceeded to bet him millions of (insert currency) and the world if he were right...

...that I would strip naked right there and then.

I have never been a coffee drinker, not until about 6 months ago. It wasn't due to a lack of trying.
I can remember all three times I tried coffee, each of which I set my sites on enjoying it, because it smelt so good and because it always did seem a little more grown up than tea.

-Tea is to tennis as coffee is to poetry.

My last attempt was whilst I was working at a coffee shop, I had a late night the night before and needed some sort of external encouragement early that morning.
I rated my tiredness on my own mental 1 - 10 scale and thought it apt that the drink be made to suit.

1 thick black triple espresso.

I downed it and felt like vomiting for the remainder of the day.
I didn't though.

Years later, for reasons wrapped up in the history and mystery of the bean and all it's magic, I gave coffee a last try and the taste finaly delivered the promise of the premise.

Emil left my house even after a conclusive google search on the issue and then e-mailed me the following morning:

Emil Parbhoolal to me

I WIN F@#KER!!!!

I GUESS YOU WILL BE STREAKING AROUND YOUR HOUSE NOW!

Since I win!

"Does tea contain more caffeine than coffee?
While coffee and tea are both sources of caffeine, the ammounts of caffiene in any single serving of these beverages varies significantly. An average serving of coffee contains the most caffiene, yet the same serving size of tea provides 1/2 to 1/3 as much. (Ref: caffiene by The Institute of Food Technologists' Expert Panel on Food Saftey and Nutrition.) Oned of the more confusing aspects of caffiene content is that coffee contains less caffiene than tea when measured in its dry form. The caffien content of a prepared cup of coffee is significantly higher than a prepeared cup of tea.

Bevan to Emil

Emil, silly Emil.
It was obvious to us both and to the witnesses present, that the bet was regarding the drink and NOT the dry contents used to make the drink.

To say you were talking about the dry ingredients at this stage of the game is a little telling.

Emil Parbhoolal to me

Did you not read the clip I sent you?


Bevan to Emil


Firstly I think its funny that you misread your own quote you sent, second, you know that when you made the bet in your mind you were picturing the drink and nothing else.

Theoreticaly you are partialy right, BUT
I am more right

-becuase we dont refer to the dry product as tea or coffee..... tea leaves, tea bags, coffee beans, coffee powder.
Coffee and tea are drinks

So there!

Emil Parbhoolal to me

Ok agreed!

Bevan is dead?

No.
That's the first thing I'd like to clear up. Definitely not dead.

My most memorable assembly in school was the one where the announcements began with, "Richard Hughs (I can't remember the kid's name) is not dead, his mother just called in and we would like to inform all of you that he is not dead, any information on who spread this rumour please report to the principals office."

Since then I have been fascinated with the idea. The idea of a pretend death that is.
My friend Trevor and I tried to spread a rumour 3 years ago that Jim Carrey had died. Not a malicious rumour, just a test really and it proved a lot more difficult than we imagined.

Granted, we didn't try that hard.

Tuesday:staff meeting day.

The meeting today began with Tom announcing that Sherman had called in the day before, gingerly touching on the issue of my death. A fascinating misunderstanding of sorts, I did break my ankle a few months ago when I came off my bike in a sad attempt to impress my girlfreind, but nothing severe enough to warrant a death rumour.

Nevertheless it has to have been the best part of my day becuase since 8:30 am I haven't quite felt so alive.