February

Stuff must have happened, right? And forgetting/mislaying my sister's birthday doesn't technically count as an event. Sorry sis. I'll make it up to you next month.
So the major subjects would be Jury Service, The Killers and this weekend. Actually there would be other subjects but I've never discussed them with you before, and I hardly see why I should start now. Well maybe a couple of them.
Jury Service was actually pretty wracking. There is the inconvenience factor if course. Losing a couple of hours a day is frustrating, and I have no shortage of work. The potential for further inconvenience - actually being selected - is also a little stressful. But then I nearly got selected for an actual jury, and I discovered that my liberal, constitutional approach may well only be skin deep. You is a lucky hillbilly, Bubba.
The Killers have also annoyed me. When I saw they were coming to NZ I was pretty excited. I'm not a massive fan, but I like their 80s pop/rock riffs and decided I'd do another Mars Volta style odyssey to Auckland. Flights booked, work leave approved, arranged to take a friend along and all is well with the world. My two Mars Volta trips were, if you'll excuse the phrase, utterly fcuking brilliant. One time the band was tight as Malcolm "I've left my wallet in my other trousers. Which are in Donna's lead-lined wardrobe", and the other time, the singer was on the most extraordinary form, as I'd imagine Bowie would once have performed. So, fingers crossed, eh? Not so much. Their Christchurch concert has been cancelled, and the Auckland one moved to the following Wednesday (with Air New Zealand rubbing their capacious purses in anticipation). Bringing this missive to an early circle, the sister is in Welly for exactly 2 nights, and you can surely guess when one of these nights is. It's not negotiable. Like I say, The Killers aren't the Mars Volta (or Sigur Ros, Radiohead, Faith No More or Muse), and family is a bit more important than many things.
This weekend... Work social, team drinks, beer fest, dancing, football, work. Doesn't sound especially anything does it. But the beer fest did have the incident that made the weekend utterly memorable (despite the best efforts of cumulative alcohol). I was nearly bowled over by a pair of prostitutes fighting in the mud, at this meteorologically-challenged event. In my defence, and also making the moment a bit funnier, I think, I didn't know they were hookers at the time. Nor that the guy I was talking to was their pimp. He was too drunk to get his prices up or somesuch, presumably. I'd put some pictures of some lady's bum up, but these were taken by someone else using my camera. Honest! Would I lie to you? I may not have told you everything (such as my explosive diarrhoea in Uzbekistan) but it was partly to stop you worrying, and partly to help you retain your dinners. But not actually lying.