March 26

I’m “sick” today.

It has nothing to do with sleep deprivation caused by the die-hard rage fanatics across the road who decide that 4am is a great time to hold a recovery party. It equally has nothing to do with the fact that their giant shed acts as a great amplifier, and exaggerates the bass generated by their stereo to levels that would leave Barry White green with envy.

I still have the bass-line to “Clubbed to Death” stuck in my head.

I am... of course... being sarcastic, apart from the Rob D song part.

Whether sleep deprivation can be classed as “ill” I don’t know, but frankly, I’m not here to discuss the semantics of health.

Besides, it makes no difference to you lot, because it still means that there is a blog entry… which is just the same as if I were at work, anyway.

And I now have no idea why I just wasted perfectly good text on the drivel that was the past six paragraphs... oh well, moving on...

One thing that keeps niggling away at me lately is the sheer amount of people I know that share my birthday. At last count there were at least 12 people I know who celebrate their day of emergence on March 26.

I want to sit the parents of all these people down in one room and ask them what it is about the month of June (ie nine months prior to March) that caused them to knock boots. Is it the dastardly frigid Australian weather that encourages close body proximity, blended with the higher fertility afforded the male in colder conditions? Or maybe there's something in the stars that inspires the male to lovingly caress his mate and whisper suductively in her ear, "You awake...? Okay, brace yourself."

It’s just a bizarre circumstance that has graced (or plagued) me. Does anyone else out there share their birthday with so many people they actually know? I mean, the odds are quite good that you’ll know at least one person with the same birthday as yours… but twelve? The mind boggles at the reasoning behind such a bizarre coincidence...

Perhaps us March 26ers are being herded together by our alien overlords to allow easier communication between a certain strain of humans when the invasion and enslavement begins. When all the people of Earth are shackled in chains and building pyramids, maybe us March 26ers are going to be the ones holding the whips…

Sure, we’ll still be slaves, but we’ll be the upper-lower class of slave, which I’m sure has a better union, and higher quality, chafe-free loin cloth uniform.

I sometimes wonder where the fuck my brain goes when I let it off its leash…

I’m guessing it eats that thing that fell under the refrigerator five months ago, judging from this post… and recent posts, now that I look back...