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theZEBRA
just spent the weekend at the army barracks
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One would be in less danger
From the wiles of a stranger
If one's own kin and kith
Were more fun to be with.

Ogden Nash
Aye Aye Cap'n!
Tuesday. 1.17.06 9:33 pm
Letter to Graham Henry, All Blacks coach:

Dear Sir,

It has now been a week since the All Blacks (ex-)captain, Jonathan Falefasa (Tana) Umaga, retired from International Test rugby. Since then, rumours have been circulating that Richie McCaw is almost certain to be selected as the new AB skipper.

In my opinion, this is a grave mistake. As a great fan of Mr. McCaw, I am in no doubt of his abilities as both a rugby player and a captain. After all, he has demonstrated these same abilities countless times during his captaincy of the Crusaders. However, I believe that in your consideration of the next AB captain, you have overlooked one very important candidate.

Me.


I KEEL YOU!!!


Consider the following points:

  • I am a great leader with experience.
    At the tender age of 10, I was selected as Project Leader by my class teacher. With hard work and discipline, I led my team to secure the award for Best Poster (Under-10's) in the school's Recycling Campaign 1995. Needless to say, with me as their captain, the team is sure to emerge victorious in the 2007 World Cup.


  • I have been trained as a touch judge.
    With such in-depth knowledge of the rules, I will be able to push the team to take every advantage on the field without giving away careless penalties.


  • I am a girl.
    But so is George Gregan.


  • I do not have a bunny nickname like "Fluffy" McCaw.
    'Nuff said.


  • I am not a citizen of New Zealand.
    A problem easily solved by granting me instant citizenship.


  • I have excellent ideas on how to improve team performance.
    One such idea is to have the team run with the bulls. With such motivation present in these training sessions, agility and speed will increase in no time at all.

These are but a few reasons why I should be the next captain of the All Blacks. And I shall be glad to discuss the rest of my qualities with the panel at a convenient time.

Yours faithfully,
Jamie

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Fairy Princess
Friday. 2.2.07 12:57 pm
In less than a couple of hours, the Crusaders will open this year's Super 14 season with the Blues.

This game will be very interesting because it'll give us an idea of how the Crusaders will perform without the seven players they've temporarily lost to the All Blacks World Cup conditioning programme.

Closer to home though, the game's gonna be even more interesting because it'll decide who will be skipping into a gay bar on Lesbian Mud Wrestling Night, decked out in fairy wings and a tiara.

Update #1: Kick-off!!

Update #2: Half-time, score is at 19-13 with the Blues leading. Noooo!! I don't want to wear fairy wings!!

Update #3: Betrayal. Sigh...fairy up.

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Brick Shithouse
Saturday. 6.16.07 8:17 pm
Rugger!

The Super 14’s been over for a month now, but the Tri Nations start tonight!!

My friend, who’s built like a brick shithouse, is just as excited. We’re mucking about with a rugby ball outside his house, passing it back and forth, chasing it into driveways (where he leaves Brick Shithouse-shaped dents in the garage doors), and trampling over lovingly tended flower beds. He outweighs me by a good 40 kilos at least, but that means that I get to climb all over him like a jungle gym. A mobile jungle gym that smells of booze and fags.

I kick the ball into the street. He runs off to retrieve it, but the street slopes downwards and the ball rolls away…right into the path of an oncoming car. The driver honks a warning, but instead of stepping aside, BS lowers his shoulder and makes as if to meet the car head on. The car screeches to a stop in time and this time the honk’s an angry one that shouts “WTF!”. BS moves to let it pass and grins cockily at me.

Make that ‘A mobile jungle gym that smells of heaps of booze and fags’.

Pleased with himself, BS looks around for something else to tackle. He finds it.

Me.

He charges towards me with a roar, trying to intimidate me. It works. Very well. I would’ve peed in fright even without the sound effects. As it is, I’m panicking because I’m not sure if he’s sober enough to hold back. I definitely don’t want to find out, but I can’t run because he’ll easily chase me down. Ohgodohgodohgod...

I hold my ground until the last moment, then dodge under his arms and sidestep him as he passes. I feel like I’ve just escaped a train wreck.

“Wow, you’re quick. You should come play touch with us.”

No, I’m not usually that quick. That burst of speed was a combination of fear and desperation. But now that the danger’s over, I’m pumped. REVENGE!

Suddenly, his phone rings and he fumbles to answer it. Opportunity! I rush at him while his attention is diverted. The curb is just behind him so if I hit him hard enough, he’ll definitely take a tumble.

But just as I make the tackle, he swings around the other way and his elbow catches me right on my nose. I drop to the ground with a strangled cry and roll around in pain. And roll. And roll some more. Nghrkkk, the rolling’s not lessening the pain, it’s just getting my clothes dirtier. I settle for just writhing in agony, wheezing loudly and half-sobbing.

“Babe, I’m on the phone here, wha—,” BS turns to me and stops in mid-sentence, bewildered. He hangs up. “What are you doing?”

I glare blearily at him through my tears as I clamp my throbbing nose. “Wa-wad ab I doigg?! Yu elbod be id de DOSSSS!!!!” The last sentence culminates in a wail. Why did he have to hit me so hard?!! This really hurts!!

BS looks even more confused. “I elbowed you in the nose?! When?”

“JUZ DOW, WED I DRIDE DO DAGEL YU!” I wail even louder.

“Oh baby, I didn’t even know you were tackling me. I didn’t feel it. You must’ve run straight into my elbow.”

He reaches down and helps me up. Then he sits on the curb and pulls me, still sobbing, onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he holds my face gently as he checks my nose. “You’re alright. It’s not bleeding or anything and it’s definitely not broken.”

“Id zdill urds,” I complain.

He hugs me better and points out, “Well, now you know not to try to take down a guy twice your size.”

I mumble assent, muffled from where I’ve buried my face in his shirt. Next time I’ll just push him down the stairs.

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