so wrong

After the race and breakfast we spent a couple of hours at Mara's in which Sal slept and Mara and I watched a depressing documentary about how society is screwed because we're about to run out of oil and have no plan B. And from there we went to Chatswood where the wrongness struck.

First of all we were there so I could get a back and chest wax which, in itself, is a little wrong. Vanity got the better of my around five years ago and the rug was waxed off and has not been allowed to grow back again.

Wrongness number two was the poster above the urinals in the shopping centre the waxing emporium is in. In some pubs and clubs you'll find the sports pages of some local paper above the piss-troughs so you can stand and read a match report instead of staring at a blank wall. Good idea. The poster in the Chaswood bogs was a whole lot less interesting; actually, interesting but disturbing. Rectogesic - The light at the end of the tunnel! For crying out loud, treatment for the pain and suffering associated with rectal tearing. Er, no thank you.

The wrongest thing though was yet to come. The lass I paid to rip the hair from my back and chest was 22years old and was not really aware of what an LP was. She'd sort of heard about them; they're those big black things right? This is the second time I've felt instantly-old. The other time was years ago when I was putting the moves (ha!) on a girl who was born after the first Star Wars movie was released. She didn't know what an LP was!

I'm old.

Ah, I skipped Saturday. Back to the Bower and back in the water. Over to the Divelog if you're interested.