<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3177811872758565100</id><updated>2011-11-10T19:37:03.348+11:00</updated><category term='bike'/><category term='lame'/><category term='Childhood'/><category term='TV'/><category term='Macgyver'/><category term='fake lesbian'/><category term='hingis'/><category term='Sienna Miller'/><category term='sporting anecdote'/><category term='overheard'/><category term='Keira Knightley'/><category term='embarrassing'/><category term='zvereva'/><category term='tennis'/><category term='ambulance'/><category term='car'/><title type='text'>rambling the night away</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13438524703540566201</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3177811872758565100.post-987008815570963844</id><published>2009-11-19T19:36:00.002+11:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T19:39:29.382+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overheard'/><title type='text'>Overheard Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A Retirement Village in The Hills Sydney &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"&gt;Late 60's woman - I put one of each in my bra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3177811872758565100-987008815570963844?l=ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/feeds/987008815570963844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3177811872758565100&amp;postID=987008815570963844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/987008815570963844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/987008815570963844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/2009/11/overheard-two.html' title='Overheard Two'/><author><name>lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13438524703540566201</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3177811872758565100.post-3196539246735838668</id><published>2009-11-18T20:22:00.005+11:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T21:01:47.133+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overheard'/><title type='text'>Overheard One</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  ;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Outside Manly Wharf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Early 30's Mum - Are you guys okay with Spaghetti Bolognese for tea?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;8 year old daughter - [whining] Noooooo, we have that every night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Daughters two friends walk on ignoring them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;...Later&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Early 30's Mum - alright Pizza it is then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3177811872758565100-3196539246735838668?l=ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/feeds/3196539246735838668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3177811872758565100&amp;postID=3196539246735838668&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/3196539246735838668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/3196539246735838668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/2009/11/overheard-one.html' title='Overheard One'/><author><name>lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13438524703540566201</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3177811872758565100.post-4039389663014443195</id><published>2008-12-02T19:32:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T20:28:16.132+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keira Knightley'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fake lesbian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sienna Miller'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lame'/><title type='text'>i didn't like you, now i really loathe you</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  ;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Keira Knightley and Sienna Miller joked with reporters at a recent London awards ceremony - by pretending to be lovers.  How original and quirky and funny, you two are so cool, sorry I mean lame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Apparently they were both stuck for a "real" date so they made one super cool one up.... each other, wow you crazy kids that's how rumours start.....  except when you are so stupid that you blatantly start them yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Keira told the adoring media throngs "We couldn't get a date for tonight. It's so hard. So we decided be each other's date."  Oh you poor things it's so hard to find a man you have to stoop to being a lesbian.   You are unconvincing because you didn't style your hair into a fauxhawk to go with your faux lesbian ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;She then went on to "jokingly" (take that with a grain of salt because it 'aint funny) say they are now officially a couple and even  held Sienna's hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Did you also press your faces together again in a ridiculous straight girl camera hug?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://stylebakery.com/celebstyle/images/KeiraSienna2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These types of things just bring back memories of Kimberly Joseph and co hugging at the end of every scene of Paradise Beach (what a delighfully horrible show). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sienna doesn't get away with this either as she piped up with a "It's true. Our secret's out - we're dating."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;And she looks beyond ridiculous in the above photo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I loathe you both&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3177811872758565100-4039389663014443195?l=ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4039389663014443195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3177811872758565100&amp;postID=4039389663014443195&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/4039389663014443195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/4039389663014443195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-didnt-like-you-now-i-really-loathe.html' title='i didn&apos;t like you, now i really loathe you'/><author><name>lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13438524703540566201</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3177811872758565100.post-5998874831288220570</id><published>2008-03-17T15:22:00.002+11:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T20:34:10.172+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sporting anecdote'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zvereva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tennis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hingis'/><title type='text'>The day Hingis was lame and Zvereva was cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I went to the Australian Open Tennis in 97 the 1st year that Martina Hingis won the singles. That same year she also won the doubles playing with my favourite player Natasha Zvereva (she was my favourite for mocking Mary Pierce when she was match point down the previous year). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In their 1st round match i was sitting in the crowd watching on an outside court and the whole way through the match the crowd was going ballistic for Hingis "Martina you're a sex god" "We love you" etc, they were even yelling out for their Polish opponents, but not once did they call out to Zvereva. People around me where saying things like "who is Martina playing with?" "Who is that, how do you say her name?" etc; Zvereva at the time was the no. 1 ranked doubles player and is the 3rd most successful of all time. It was annoying me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;At about 6-0 5-1 Zvereva was serving - she served and followed up with a volley winner. The crowd went crazy for Martina, "Well done Martina, go Martina" etc. Now I was pissed, Hingis didn't even touch the ball and they still were ignoring the player that did. Aaaargh. I snapped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I was sitting in line with the base line that Natasha was serving from, she was bouncing the ball, the crowd was still yelling out for Hingis and i thought that's it so I called out "Go Natasha" of course just as i did this everyone else stopped calling out, so the whole court heard me (i was pretty loud).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What happened next i will never forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Natasha stopped bouncing the ball, turned, looked directly at me and said "thankyou" and the crowd laughed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, after the match i had a photo with her and she thanked me again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It goes to show that although athletes are professional and focussed they are still human and are obviously affected by crowd interaction and obviously feel emotion that affects their play.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3177811872758565100-5998874831288220570?l=ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/feeds/5998874831288220570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3177811872758565100&amp;postID=5998874831288220570&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/5998874831288220570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/5998874831288220570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/2008/03/day-hingis-was-lame-and-zvereva-was.html' title='The day Hingis was lame and Zvereva was cool'/><author><name>lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13438524703540566201</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3177811872758565100.post-979481166716096579</id><published>2007-04-25T03:28:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T18:11:21.941+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Macgyver'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV'/><title type='text'>The Shows i watched as a kid - episode 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Now this was a well known fact in my family that MacGyver was my favourite show. My globe trotting Aunt would send us a postcard every few months and she would always address it personally to my parents, my brother, my sister and Mrs Macgyver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, many years after my obsession subsided she sent me a cut out picture of the man in question from a trashy magazine, i laughed and threw it away, or did i secretly keep it for my hope chest? (edit. you don't have a hope chest) or put it safely in the silver locket i always wear around my neck? (edit. um you don't have one of those either).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LAME - i was so lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one epsiode i remember having the greatest significance involved a trip to South America and HUGE human eating ants. My husband survived by making himself a shiny plastic yellow suit out of ah shiny yellow plastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it has been a good 10-15 years since i have watched an episode and now that they are available on DVD i have contemplated watching it, but i can't seem to bring myself to do it. I don't want to tarnish my memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an adult would I actually be able to see how ridiculous this show was?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely not??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...um surely yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3177811872758565100-979481166716096579?l=ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/feeds/979481166716096579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3177811872758565100&amp;postID=979481166716096579&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/979481166716096579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/979481166716096579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/shows-i-watched-as-kid-episode-1_24.html' title='The Shows i watched as a kid - episode 1'/><author><name>lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13438524703540566201</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3177811872758565100.post-4994716832278543342</id><published>2007-04-19T19:17:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T18:09:55.891+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambulance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='car'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='embarrassing'/><title type='text'>pedestrian crossings are for pedestrians only</title><content type='html'>&lt;div face="arial" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;a tale of car vs push bike..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September 6th 2006. I was on my way home from work, riding a bicycle for about the 5th time in 12 years, when i thought i would safely cross the road by using a pedestrian crossing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, it was not that safe. Being an inexperienced rider and I'm sure a dorky one at that, i failed to get off the bike and walk it across the crossing. Instead i simply peddled twice and rolled across the road at about walking pace (an illegal act apparently).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my shock and horror the driver of an approaching car did not see me. Being both smart and ultra cool i saw him first, so i quickly peddled twice which meant that when the car hit me it actually just smashed into the back third of the bike and made me do a 180 and land on the road, with my shoulder taking the majority of the impact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did my life flash before my eyes? ah no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i do distinctly remember when i realised he was about to hit me that everything went super slow and i actually said out loud "oh my god". I wonder if anyone heard me? And i wonder if to them the "oh my god' sounded super slow mo style, like it did to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to ride in an ambulance which was actually surprisingly stark inside. I was expecting bells and whistles, or maybe just flashing lights, beeping and machinery (or do i mean equipment?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever worn a neck brace? I don't recommend it, not if you want to be able to see anything other than pretty much directly up. The roof of RPA Emergency is really quite ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had a spinal exam? I definitely don't recommend it. The doctor told me he would have to get some nurses to roll me on my side so he could feel down my spine and then stick his finger up my arse. Yes that is what he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had partaken in some pain killers by this stage so i thought he was joking or i was hallucinating. I was wrong. Tori tells me that she saw him 'lube' up so she patted my leg, i didn't notice i was only aware of the nurse holding my head who was saying 'okay here we go, it'll be over in a second'. Ah joy, it was over in a second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been flat on your back, being x-rayed and been absolutely busting for the loo? Now this I 150,000% do not recommend. Lets say it did happen, then i should imagine if you pleaded that you couldn't hold it anymore someone would rush off and grab six or seven nurses to turn you on your side and pull down your pants and roll you back onto a pan so you could pee. I'm not saying it happened, it's just a hypothetical. Who am i kidding of course it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had to pay a $50 fine for ridding my bike across the crossing even though i argued that i would of been hit even if i was walking as i saw the driver and he was not looking. Apparently there was no evidence or witnesses to support that so i had to pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, all is okay now. I'm all good. I basically stuffed my shoulder and bruised my leg really bad, but they are both pretty much fine now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the moral to the story is. Pedestrian crossings are lame and scary. Beware!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3177811872758565100-4994716832278543342?l=ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/feeds/4994716832278543342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3177811872758565100&amp;postID=4994716832278543342&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/4994716832278543342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3177811872758565100/posts/default/4994716832278543342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ramblingthenightaway.blogspot.com/2007/04/pedestrian-crossings-are-for.html' title='pedestrian crossings are for pedestrians only'/><author><name>lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13438524703540566201</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
