Fuck this weather.

And I don't say that because my house lost its roof or the dash of my car is now eucalyptus. Thankfully, neither of those occured. Iron bark trim sounds kinda cool though, certainly no worse than tan leather especially if you throw in some koala fur seat covers. I do love the irony of these storms though, that is the people who bought a house in The Gap or whatever to be closer to nature. Nature, having been hurt so many times before, and not really used to the attention, misread their signals, got a bit carried away, pushed them into a corner and shoved its tongue down their throat. Now suddenly Nature has become the bad guy. Yeah, well I say they were asking for it. Also, you chose to live in a place called The Gap. Generally, and I might be speaking only for myself here, but when I say "The Gap" I generally mean the perineum. It doesn't really sound like an appealing place to live, you know. Which, rather indirectly, brings me back to my problem with the weather. The humidity.

Now I don't have working air-conditioning in any of my cars. The Skyline blower doesn't work, the Gemini doesn't have enough power to spin a compressor and the Pajero could either have aircon or EFI due to the size and position of the compressor. (I'm not sure we made the right choice though.) I generally don't mind the lack of aircon, as I prefer windows down anyway. However the pre-storm humidity isn't really something you can solve with an open window. Its that horrible pins-and-needles-ish feeling you get when you walk from an air conditioned building then step into the open air. Like when you get out of a shower on a hot day, you towel yourself off and the second you are dry you get that horrible tingly feeling. Its better to stay wet.

Which is sort of how I feel about this whole weather nonsense. I love a good storm. Its nature waving its dick in the face of campers, sports-people and cyclists. Its also a bit of free entertainment on those nights when there isn't an armed siege happening just down the road. I don't even mind the rain, I don't even mind if the occasional road is flooded. Plus, getting lairy around the Oxley-Blunder Rd roundabout in peak hour never gets old, even if you get the occasional disapproving honk. (Yeah, like they have somewhere better to be.) What I'd really like, though, is the storm without the build up. Its the build up that shits me to tears. It's (I'm going to continue running with this analogy until I come up with a better one) Nature's foreplay. It drags on far too long, there absolutely no enjoyment for me in it and, if its all the same to you, without the fireworks afterwards I'd rather be somewhere else. The storm, I mean.

The upshot of all this was in the drive to last weeks work Christmas party (yes, in November). The best party of two hours driving, followed by 6 hours of drinking, 6 hours of sleeping and another 2 hours of driving. The drive up I spent half my time nervously watching the gauges and hand controller half expecting something to explode, something did of course, but was quickly fixed with a pair of pliers and the wrong spanner. It was an almost pleasant break from the rather boring stereo-free drive, which I had a Tears for Fears song stuck in my head for the entirity of. Sweating like a fat guy walking up a flight of stairs.

I arrived just before 5, having deliberately delayed the drive up to avoid the heat. I checked in, showered, threw my suit on and sat in wonderful air-con of my room looking out on the Hotel car park. I had warm beers in the car, but no fridge, so I couldn't get stuck into any pre-beers. When I eventually wandered down to the bar it was pretty obvious that other people hadn't shown as much restraint. Given that it was barely even dark yet, that there was at least 6 hours of drinking, at least 6 hours of terrible music and at least 6 hours of things you'll regret saying to work collegues to go, it wasn't a bad effort. I got asked which room number I had at least a dozen times by the same 4 people, and no matter how many times they said "please" I wasn't in room 203. I'm sure whoever was in 203 wished they weren't. I also found out I got completely jewed on room accessories that I would never have used. I had no spa, no kitchen and my shower didn't flood the entire bathroom. I also didn't get a decent view. I had plenty of extra towels to wipe away those tears though.

I spent most of the night talking cars with Ben and AnnMaree, and hearing bits of gossip about who is with who and telling people I wasn't in room 203. A boyfriend of one of the girls was surprised when I told him I thought he had the coolest job in the world. Apparently he normally gets an emotion-driven rant whenever he mentions that he works in marketing for a multinational tobacco company. I just thought it made him a real-life version of Nick Naylor and we discussed the complexities of marketing a product you can't advertise, or promote in anyway. We also talked bullshit about the nanny state and the importance of personal choice, and somehow I never once mentioned that his hair made him look a bit like Keith Urban.

In turn, I copped "Hello Sylar" from people, because apparently two days of stubble can turn me from Hugh Grant into Spock. (The chopper moustache lasted 2 weeks.) Retards. What's most upsetting of all is just how terrible Heroes is. I mean, at least Hugh Grant gets it right. In the end the whole party ended with a whimper when they kicked us out of the ballroom at 12. Everyone just crashed out. So lame. I don't even go to bed that early on a school night.

I woke up early and checked out by 7. There was no way in hell if I was going to drive a sauna home, hung over or not. I think I was home before some people were even awake. Which worked out well, global warming struck and added an hour or something to the trip home for those who slept in. Suck it.

I spent the remainder of the weekend playing Fallout 3. What an awesome game. Its got a bit of an Oblivion feel to it, but they've replaced the elves and shit with mutants and lepers. The swords are replaced with rifles and rocket launchers, which makes the whole thing a bunch more fun. They also paid some competent actors to do the voice acting and there is actually some variety there. The town drunks don't sound exactly the same as the mayor of some other town. Although the dialogue can grate a bit.

For instance, normally when I'm given the choice to create a character and name them in a game it becomes a bit of a joke. Invariably, I choose to go with a chick named Labia Majora. Its all voice acted so unfortunately nobody refers to you by name, or maybe they are just too embarrassed to say it aloud. In the main quest you meet your father (Liam Neeson), who unfortunately refers to you as "Honey" the whole time. It gets a bit uncomfortable to be honest. For a destroyed civilisation though, everyone seems to be very nice. Its not exactly Mad Max. If you do a few good deeds people run up to you and give you various items of minor value. Something tells me that never happened to the Road Warrior. Its probably my fault for playing as a good guy (girl), but its a bit cringe worthy at times.

On the other hand, the slavers are pretty cool as they point their Kalashnikovs at you whenever you approach. They look the business. And plenty of people just shoot first, but everyone else just goes for a hug instead. Its not that the game is terrible, its really very awesome. I just would have thought that people would be a bit more, you know, bad. Maybe I'm just cynical and have no faith in humanity. That said though, I'm pretty sure I'd be a real cunt if you handed me a plasma rifle and set me free in a post-holocaust world. The sex is laughable too. Or rather the lack there of. There are prostitutes in the game but you can't actually fuck them, you just share a bed with them. Though like the real thing, they make you pay regardless and upfront.

Its definitely a good way to spend a weekend if the weather is too shit to go outside, as I still haven't gotten bored of it after playing through a fair bit of it. The ruins of DC are actually quite convincing and the huge open spaces don't seem to suffer from the random encounters. I highly recommend it.

Far Cry 2 on the other hand is like fighting a civil war on Sarah Jessica Parker's face. Its far, far too long, your way is blocked 90% of the time by enormous and impassable natural features and the whole thing is completely lacking in any female character. Its based in Africa and they've captured how gay it would be to have AIDS pretty well I think, if unintentionally. 90% of the time you are driving, the other 10% of the time you are being shot at. The people you shoot respawn, so it never feels like you've accomplished anything, its more like Deja Vu the 3rd time you drive through a checkpoint. And you have to repair your car all the time. In truth its a little too much like me in real life driving to work. Except that in my neighbourhood the gun fire is directed at the police, not me.

Really, its completely overrated and I really will be surprised if anyone has managed to finish it. Its fucking terrible. What's annoying is I wasted 3 gig of quota on it.

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