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So if you just want to look at something different from AFL for while (and after Sunday, who'd blame you?), this is one of the most popular sports in south east Asia.


I could get into that. Sort of foot volley ball with shouting. That's seriously a real thing? I just tried it on scrunched up paper and it's even harder than it looks
 
I could get into that. Sort of foot volley ball with shouting. That's seriously a real thing? I just tried it on scrunched up paper and it's even harder than it looks
Dude, it is MASSIVE in Asia! And yeah man, it's like kung-fu volleyball!
 
As a random aside, I started playing Pokemon again this weekend accidentally. Was doing some good procrastination before I stumbled onto it. Ah was some good nostalgia. Decided to start again with Bulbasaur and have already caught a Mankey. I'll keep you guys updated if I can be bothered. What games do you guys from your childhood? Marbles? PacMan? Pebbles? (Yes I'm making fun of all of you for being old because I'm mean)
 
Straight up : Cage match between Shaun the Sheep and Timmy, who comes out alive and who comes out as a lamb rack?

GO.
 

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Straight up : Cage match between Shaun the Sheep and Timmy, who comes out alive and who comes out as a lamb rack?

GO.
Shaun. Easily

Peppa Pig v My Skillet Frypan....

Mmmm..... Bacon ;)
 
Shaun the sheep and Timmy enter the arena. The crowd roar. Shaun fans in the crowd are prominent due to their wearing of fleece. Timmy fans are a varied lot, and some of them appear to be disabled themselves. The announcer goes through his introductions - the bleating of the Shaun fans reaches a crescendo then fades before he introduces Timmy. His fans produce a fair amount of noise too, but as the crowd noise begins to drop off he lets out his trademark "TIMMEH" and the crowd erupt once more. There is a clacking of walking aids and other paraphernalia at the same time.

The announcer leaves the cage and the anticipation builds waiting on the bell. Ding. And it begins... Shaun, disaffirming his true nature, and looking very much a carnivore, crouches low and hunts Timmy. Timmy is somewhat handicapped by his handicap and can barely evade. Shaun has him cornered and appears ready to pounce. Timmy's eyes have widened, as if in realisation that this is a monumental mismatch and he is about to get creamed. Shaun encroaches, then pounces, as he does he opens his mouth, eyes wild... and is smacked hard by Timmy's right stick. Timmy leans back into the cage wall and uses that to propel himself forward, his left stick is grounded near the fallen Shaun and he majestically flies over the disheveled sheep. As he does, he pivots his body around and gives Shaun an almighty whack with his right stick before landing somewhat gracelessly in the open area. Slow motion replays captured the impressive musculature in his shoulders and arms. The confident utterance of "TIMMEH" while executing that move suggests that is was no fluke. Suddenly it is Shaun whose eyes betray that realisation...
 
As a random aside, I started playing Pokemon again this weekend accidentally. Was doing some good procrastination before I stumbled onto it. Ah was some good nostalgia. Decided to start again with Bulbasaur and have already caught a Mankey. I'll keep you guys updated if I can be bothered. What games do you guys from your childhood? Marbles? PacMan? Pebbles? (Yes I'm making fun of all of you for being old because I'm mean)

1942 on arcade & Faxanadu on NES, so 1987 and 1990ish.

You play with your pocket monster rehashed populist garbage, especially since Charmander was the better opener due to the lack of Fire types in G1 early. Beast mode it.

Straight up : Cage match between Shaun the Sheep and Timmy, who comes out alive and who comes out as a lamb rack?

GO.

The cage is the winner as the only one who is complete and whole, a mad scientist in the crowd will shrink it to end everyone's misery and become the antihero that we need not the one that we want. Since it was kinda obvious when he showed up with a monocle and white lab coat.
 
I had a dream that I'd invited Malcolm Blight and his family to dinner. In my dream, Blighty had one teenage son and a wife, no idea about what his family is in reality. His son came in first and was really friendly and enthusiastic, his wife was friendly too, but although friendly, Blighty was a bit cautious and didn't really understand why we were meeting for dinner.

My first football dream!
 

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Shaun the sheep and Timmy enter the arena. The crowd roar. Shaun fans in the crowd are prominent due to their wearing of fleece. Timmy fans are a varied lot, and some of them appear to be disabled themselves. The announcer goes through his introductions - the bleating of the Shaun fans reaches a crescendo then fades before he introduces Timmy. His fans produce a fair amount of noise too, but as the crowd noise begins to drop off he lets out his trademark "TIMMEH" and the crowd erupt once more. There is a clacking of walking aids and other paraphernalia at the same time.

The announcer leaves the cage and the anticipation builds waiting on the bell. Ding. And it begins... Shaun, disaffirming his true nature, and looking very much a carnivore, crouches low and hunts Timmy. Timmy is somewhat handicapped by his handicap and can barely evade. Shaun has him cornered and appears ready to pounce. Timmy's eyes have widened, as if in realisation that this is a monumental mismatch and he is about to get creamed. Shaun encroaches, then pounces, as he does he opens his mouth, eyes wild... and is smacked hard by Timmy's right stick. Timmy leans back into the cage wall and uses that to propel himself forward, his left stick is grounded near the fallen Shaun and he majestically flies over the disheveled sheep. As he does, he pivots his body around and gives Shaun an almighty whack with his right stick before landing somewhat gracelessly in the open area. Slow motion replays captured the impressive musculature in his shoulders and arms. The confident utterance of "TIMMEH" while executing that move suggests that is was no fluke. Suddenly it is Shaun whose eyes betray that realisation...
Dude, I waited 3 days for this piece of magnificence. We'll done good sir. We'll done.
 
So, I'm conflicted.

I hear the lighteartedness, I see the outpour of donations and I hear people talking about and it being a thing and I am happy that it is now getting getting out into the public, that we are now bringing this to the front so that we can learn about this, that we can hopefully find something better in the end. Then I find myself spitting vitriol against those same people, hating them for their lightheartedness and the giggles and the let's go down a slide in our undies sloganism.

Because I see mum, unable to walk, talk, chew solid food, clothe herself, bathe herself and am reminded of her corpse on the floor as I walked in the door.

I don't mean it, but I hate seeing Neale because he reminds me of these things, of what I no longer have, I don't mean it but I want people to shut up about it because I can't help it and the tears flow as I'm reminded of these things. But as I say, I am conflicted because I am happy that there is a chance that this can lead to others not feeling this pain, not living what I lived through and I still want to hate them for it, and feel like a dick because of it.

Because it's too late for people to start to care.
 
So, I'm conflicted.

I hear the lighteartedness, I see the outpour of donations and I hear people talking about and it being a thing and I am happy that it is now getting getting out into the public, that we are now bringing this to the front so that we can learn about this, that we can hopefully find something better in the end. Then I find myself spitting vitriol against those same people, hating them for their lightheartedness and the giggles and the let's go down a slide in our undies sloganism.

Because I see mum, unable to walk, talk, chew solid food, clothe herself, bathe herself and am reminded of her corpse on the floor as I walked in the door.

I don't mean it, but I hate seeing Neale because he reminds me of these things, of what I no longer have, I don't mean it but I want people to shut up about it because I can't help it and the tears flow as I'm reminded of these things. But as I say, I am conflicted because I am happy that there is a chance that this can lead to others not feeling this pain, not living what I lived through and I still want to hate them for it, and feel like a dick because of it.

Because it's too late for people to start to care.
So, I just had to reply to this.
I work in Cytology, a field where I help diagnose cancer in patients (among other things). I attend procedures that involve obtaining tiny cell samples and make important decisions based on my microscopic analysis of that sample. (I am not a Pathologist, so the weight of the final diagnosis does not rest on my shoulders). I have helped so many people whether they knew it or not, to get the treatment they need as quickly as possible. But i still feel a stab of pain, each time the memory of my grandfather confiding in me of symptoms that I should have recognised but didn't. I could have done more than I did for him and it haunts me. When they found his cancer it was too late. I had moved back to Brisbane, from Melbourne when I heard the news of my grandfather's illness. I shouldn't feel guilt or pain, the advice I gave him was sound, but I could have done more. I had issues that I regularly did more for strangers than I did for him. I was his first grandchild and he loved me to pieces. I loved him too. I can't go back and fix it. I just let myself believe that the person I am currently helping has someone who loves them like I did my grandfather, and I try and do it for them. It doesn't make it right, but it stops me from detaching and losing meaning.
 
So, I just had to reply to this.
I work in Cytology, a field where I help diagnose cancer in patients (among other things). I attend procedures that involve obtaining tiny cell samples and make important decisions based on my microscopic analysis of that sample. (I am not a Pathologist, so the weight of the final diagnosis does not rest on my shoulders). I have helped so many people whether they knew it or not, to get the treatment they need as quickly as possible. But i still feel a stab of pain, each time the memory of my grandfather confiding in me of symptoms that I should have recognised but didn't. I could have done more than I did for him and it haunts me. When they found his cancer it was too late. I had moved back to Brisbane, from Melbourne when I heard the news of my grandfather's illness. I shouldn't feel guilt or pain, the advice I gave him was sound, but I could have done more. I had issues that I regularly did more for strangers than I did for him. I was his first grandchild and he loved me to pieces. I loved him too. I can't go back and fix it. I just let myself believe that the person I am currently helping has someone who loves them like I did my grandfather, and I try and do it for them. It doesn't make it right, but it stops me from detaching and losing meaning.
My wife is a radiation therapist. She wrestles with similar feelings at times. What I say to her, I'll say to you.

Just remember, you play a significant part in saving lives, every single day you work. As such, you are freakin' superman, Kildonan. You certainly are to the families of those you help save... including their grandsons.
 

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I want to point out that the above post, while about me, was to provide support for StFly who expressed a depth of conflict and pain. I wanted to bare a bit of my soul to him to show that we have painful experiences and there is no shame in sharing them or the irrational mixture of emotions that they evoke.
 
Nothing at all wrong with you post Kildonian. Besides the support shown to StFly, it was a beautiful message and also good to know a little more about you.
 
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