<?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-19791828</id><updated>2011-04-22T07:44:07.172+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bar in the Greek Islands?  One day...</title><subtitle type='html'>Infrequent and irrational ramblings of a Sydney sider now BASED in London, but currently on project in Reykjavik, Iceland.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lucky</name><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>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-9177750213900746087</id><published>2007-06-22T20:07:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T20:07:15.464+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Thu at a look out with Half Dome behind her</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lmlucoz/582313588/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1248/582313588_0924c8190d_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lmlucoz/582313588/"&gt;Thu at a look out with Half Dome behind her&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lmlucoz/"&gt;lmluc_oz&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;With the Grizzly Giant and Mariposa Grove behind us we drove onto what Lonely Planet rated as the best view in Yosemite, Glacier Point.  However, before we got there we hit the look out you see in this photo.  It was our first full view of what Yosemite had to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot diggety-dayum!  Not bad for a an appertiser.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidenote:  Did you know that in the USofA appertisers are mains and they call their appertisers - starters?  Confused me for awhile!  They don't have anything called 'mains'.  Thankfully desserts are called desserts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow back to this photo and the look out.  Undoubtably the star formation in Yosemite is mighty Half Dome, seen behind Thu.  If you check out the other photos there is a two part water fall and other magnificent peaks as well, all with names that I have forgotten.  You get abit blase about the water falls in Yosemite after awhile actually!  There are quite afew, all very large and very impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After stopping at this look out we drove on to Glacier Point...&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-9177750213900746087?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/9177750213900746087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=9177750213900746087' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/9177750213900746087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/9177750213900746087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2007/06/thu-at-look-out-with-half-dome-behind.html' title='Thu at a look out with Half Dome behind her'/><author><name>lucky</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1248/582313588_0924c8190d_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-8203329883677923434</id><published>2007-06-21T18:42:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T18:52:07.620+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Thu tree hugging</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lmlucoz/544643548/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1191/544643548_6bf1d3857a_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lmlucoz/544643548/"&gt;Thu tree hugging&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lmlucoz/"&gt;lmluc_oz&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Can't help but blog this one too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahaha it kills me. She's so tiny! Trying to hug this giant. And the tree's actually not even that big compared to some of its neighbours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the Grove around about 8:30am, at this point, as you can see from her clothes, it was still quite crisp. I was expecting to see ewoks for the entire walk to the Grizzly Giant! I swear it felt like we were on the forest moon of Endor!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wicket didn't appear but we had a squirrel guide/shadow us the entire way. Obviously squirrels are the recon animal class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also stumbled across a doe, a deer, a female deer, on the way back. She didn't seem very scared of people at all. We actually saw lots of deer on our one day Yosemite extravaganza.&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-8203329883677923434?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/8203329883677923434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=8203329883677923434' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/8203329883677923434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/8203329883677923434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2007/06/thu-tree-hugging.html' title='Thu tree hugging'/><author><name>lucky</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1191/544643548_6bf1d3857a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-3214023351274720022</id><published>2007-06-21T18:33:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T00:38:01.680+10:00</updated><title type='text'>The Grizzly Giant</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lmlucoz/544643694/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1338/544643694_96de54b4ae_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lmlucoz/544643694/"&gt;The Grizzly Giant&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lmlucoz/"&gt;lmluc_oz&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;OK I'm going to have to blog out of chronological order because a) I'm testing the link between flikr and blogger and b) I'm blogging post the event and have posted photos out of order. Anyhow here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Grizzly Giant. Not as tall as I was hoping, but a damn big tree never the less. The tallest trees in the world are at nearby Sequoia National Park, alas I wasn't going to have time to visit. The Grizzly Giant was Yosemite's largest sequoia, a californian redwood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was especially impressed by the size of the boughs/branches. They were *easily* as big as most other trees on their lonesome! You can find the Grizzly Giant at Mariposa Grove, just inside the southern entrance of Yosemite National Park (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yosemite_National_Park), well worth the quick detour to check it out before hitting Yoesmite proper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NB: once you arrive at Mariposa Grove its a 15min walk to see the Giant. Make sure you check the signs or else you'll take the wrong track and it becomes a 30min walk!!! Don't ask how I know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all a beautiful start to our Yosemite one day extravaganza. Mr Mackay would have loved it. I believe the tree is 2700 years old or something like that. May it see 4000 more!&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-3214023351274720022?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/3214023351274720022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=3214023351274720022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/3214023351274720022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/3214023351274720022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2007/06/grizzly-giant.html' title='The Grizzly Giant'/><author><name>lucky</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1338/544643694_96de54b4ae_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-5135148598709213358</id><published>2007-06-21T18:17:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T18:17:43.897+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Flickr</title><content type='html'>This is a test post from &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/r/testpost"&gt;&lt;img alt="flickr" src="http://www.flickr.com/images/flickr_logo_blog.gif" width="41" height="18" border="0" align="absmiddle" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, a fancy photo sharing thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-5135148598709213358?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/5135148598709213358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=5135148598709213358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/5135148598709213358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/5135148598709213358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2007/06/flickr.html' title='Flickr'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-115692119578959203</id><published>2006-08-30T14:35:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T16:59:55.860+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part Four</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A President Falls on His Sword&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-------------------------------------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am watching a press conference on television. It is the President. Of what I wonder? I think the world. Times have changed obviously. Thu is with me. I told her the truth, even though I should not have. Secrets such as this are hard to keep. I hope she can keep it better than I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The damn reception is bad as well! Can you believe it?! This future sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok back to the President. He is announcing that he has a terminal illness. The collective gasp is clearly audible. He is standing down effective immediately. His speech continues and he wastes no time in raising our spirits, we need to continue on without him, the heavens await us! The speech ends with universal applause. He has received many in his illustrious career, but none to rival his last. Mr President steps down from the podium, the camera is panning away, but I catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turns away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly realise that the events portrayed on the television were in the past. I know this because I was there the day the President was executed. Well some might argue it wasn't an execution. They would have a point as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The President was placed in a metal apparatus of sorts. Only his head was showing once it closed around him. There were others in the room with me at the time (not Thu of course, government official types), but they were irrelevant. He did not look at me once as the final piece of the machinery descended upon him. He stared straight ahead with little expression at all. I think his mind was far away, as mine would have been in his predicament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His head was finally encased in metal as well. A metal box. A mini version of the one that incased his body, although this one had more tubes and wires. At that point the machines started whirrrrring (is that a word?), beeping and hissing. Then it was over and the President was no more. Remember Han Solo? Same deal I guess, but totally different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came out of my reminiscing at this point. I am back with Thu and we are at a desk (for those that care the desk is in a former family home of mine, in Birrong). On the desk in front of us is a metal box. Funnily enough it has tubes and wires sticking out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unhappily I begin to open the box. It doesn't so much open, as get dismantled. Bit by bit. Again think Star Wars. Return of the Jedi to be precise. The second death star is in its death throes. The Emperor is dead and Luke is alone with his father, who wants to see Luke with his own eyes before the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment of truth is here. I lift the final piece off the puzzle and see what I already knew would be there. It is a crescent shaped strip of silicon material, in the shape of a man's mouth, part of his nose and one of his ears. I could have lifted it up and placed it over my own mouth like some kind of macabre mask. I didn't of course. That would be insane and disrespectful. I was glad Thu was here, but wished that she wasn't. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who is it?" the mouth asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to reply when it began talking to itself. The brilliant man it once belonged to was now no more. Of that I was sure. To imagine life as a strip of silicon/skin is so mind warpingly horrific that even now I can't bend my thoughts enough to capture the concept. What must it be like? What can you sense? Where do you go, what thoughts would you have? What are you exactly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scientists and theologians have discussed the realities of this punishment. There are many disagreements, but I believe there is one consensus. It is a fate far worse than death. We have found a way to trap souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first time that this method of 'execution' has been carried out. Only humankind could conceive of a situation where its recipient was the brightest amongst all our souls. Notice I say brightest. What was his crime you may ask? The details I do not know. But I do know that were this information revealed to you, half would immediately agree with the sentence. The other half would weep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts wandered to the group of mysterious women who set me on this path. They sent me forth to prevent a calamity. To save humankind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I done?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The End&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-115692119578959203?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/115692119578959203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=115692119578959203' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115692119578959203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115692119578959203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/08/thunderstorm-rising-quick-_115692119578959203.html' title='A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part Four'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-115691225473102733</id><published>2006-08-30T13:33:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T14:31:51.836+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Service&lt;br /&gt;----------------------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting at a table discussing matters of no great importance. This is unusual, I normally don't talk about frivolous things. Then man I am talking to is an older gentleman, dressed well, a respectable man, a man of importance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A voice cackles in my left ear. I spring to my feet and tell the man, "Mr President, it's time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rises and straightens his tie. Mr President walks through the door I have opened for him. He enters a hall to much acclaim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the President begins his oration, I take stock of the situation. The hall is crowded, though it is not a very large hall. In fact it is my old high school hall. Not the high school of this incarnation, but &lt;strong&gt;my&lt;/strong&gt; high school. Those of you who went to high school with me will know it. Picture it filled with citizens. Picture a president on the stage, at the podium. Picture me several steps behind him and a little to his right. His right hand man perhaps. You can be sure I am not the only one of my kind in the room. My men litter the hall. Dark suits, ear pieces. Scanning, always scanning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel uneasy. As we all knew I must at some point. The President is doing well, he is loved. A strange thing I know, but he is loved. Once in an age such a man is born. The people watch him adoringly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave the hall. I am searching for danger. I know it is near. How do I know? It is like catching a glimpse of a friend. She disappears, lost in the crowd. But you know she is here now, so you search for her. It is only a matter of time until you find her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of people standing around. I ignore them. Then I see two men in grey overalls. They are bearded. They carry cabling of some sort and just as I see them they walk into a doorway. One glances at me -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop right there!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My firearm is out, but the first shots are not mine. I dive to my right and roll. I am screaming something. Calling for aid perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My assailants/quarry are a grey blur. I suddenly remember this is the future. Even though I am in a setting from my past. I keep this in mind, it may save my life. Assumptions can be deadly. Hahahaha listen to me! Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chase them out into the quadrangle. Unfortunately it teems with people, running fantically in all directions. The gunshots have panicked them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I scream for them to get down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anyone who doesn't get down DIES!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harsh I know, but it was imperative we catch these men. Or kill them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd responds instantly. All but one man in a grey suit. The fool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who are you?" he demands. "Put that gun away! Don't force me to take it off you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ye gods what is he doing?! He is reaching into his jacket! I scream for him to get down. That I was deadly serious. This was not the time my friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ignores me and tries to pull something out of his jacket. Something clicks in my head. This has happened before. The click I mean, not the events occurring. Emotions vanish and clarity is achieved. Adrenaline is a beautiful thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man crumples to the ground and I am already off and running towards the school gate. I never saw what he was reaching for. It didn't matter if it was his wallet in the end. He was in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to the gate and see an empty neighbourhood street before me. Damn. I am flanked by two of my men. The neighbourhood has been locked down by the local authorities. Road blocks cover all streets in and out of the area. Helicopters can already be heard overhead. My men are very efficient it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More of them now gather around me. I grab a map off one of them and explain the search pattern. In groups of four I send them off. It's only a matter of time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There they are! Hands bound, the terrorists are escorted by my men across the street towards me. There are civilians milling around beyond the cordon. Press as well I'm sure. I need to keep the media away from this. Until I knew more I didn't want them nosing around. I suddenly realise my gun is now in my hand, hidden behind my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as they reach me, both prisoners explode into action. They break their bonds easily and agents are sent flying. One grabs an agent and uses him as a shield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were like quicksilver, but in the end not quick enough. Amazingly no one else was hurt. There would be no answers from these two though. Another dead end I thought, not knowing why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly there is an uproar. One that seemed to imply that the events that had just occurred were inconsequential. They were right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The media swarmed around two of my agents approaching with another man. He was in a poor state, dirty, his shirt was ripped, but his eyes gleamed with defiance. They screamed well played. They screamed it was worth the gamble, even though he had now lost everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No! I thought, anyone but him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn but it was a black day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;End Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-115691225473102733?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/115691225473102733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=115691225473102733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115691225473102733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115691225473102733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/08/thunderstorm-rising-quick-_115691225473102733.html' title='A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part Three'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-115690813389394377</id><published>2006-08-30T13:16:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T13:22:13.896+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Rising Quick Sand&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;----------------------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a university student.  I believe I have assumed a different incarnation of myself.  I am on the ground floor of an apartment and the mother of all house parties is all around me.  Students drinking to excess.  I recognise Pramod.  He may not recognise me though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a vague sense of life in fast forward.  It's as if I was born and then someone hit fast forward, x32, until this point in time.  For some reason they hit play at this point.  Maybe they wanted me to have a sense of myself.  This was not the moment this version of myself was born for, but it would help me understand this incarnation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone screams!  Understandably so, because the floor of the apartment has turned into bog and everyone is sinking! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Up the stairs people!" someone shouts.  Actually I think it was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I follow my own advice by diving for the handrail.   I use this to help me drag myself up.  Disturbingly the stairs are also made of quicksand.  I clamber onto the handrails and use them to get upstairs.  I leap from furniture to furniture as the bog level rises, a very discouraging sight.  I see people following my lead, others are too slow, or slip and are dragged under.  There is no time to save them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make it to the roof and see scenes of chaos below.  People are clinging to trees and cars, whatever they can find.  The bog/quicksand level seems to have stopped rising.  Helicopters can be seen in the distance, their search lights on.  Rescue is at hand.  What insight did this little episode reveal?  I will probably never know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone has pushed the fast forward button again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;End Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-115690813389394377?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/115690813389394377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=115690813389394377' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115690813389394377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115690813389394377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/08/thunderstorm-rising-quick-sand-secret_30.html' title='A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part Two'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-115690776034882087</id><published>2006-08-30T11:51:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T17:23:03.216+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part One</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;ThunderStorm&lt;br /&gt;------------------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was riding my bicycle and the sun was setting. It had been a glorious day. I didn't remember the details, but I knew it had been a fine day because of that warm glow inside me. I am in the suburbs somewhere, it feels familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the dark clouds rolled in. When you see these kind of clouds, you know you're in for something special. These were storm clouds that had stars sprinkled amongst them. It was dusk and it was spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point the wind picks up, I have lost my bike but have gained a companion. His name is Alan. He would be twenty one now I think, but the Alan in front of me is just a kid. He looks worried. And well he might be because a jet liner screams overhead, it is trying to take off... or is it landing? In any case it is dangerously low and the storm is causing havoc. The rain starts coming down and the plane seems to regain control. It ascends for a few moments. Then disaster! Control is irrevocably lost! It tumbles out of the sky and crashes with an almighty explosion! Smoke can be seen billowing from behind houses, it can't be more than a few hundred metres away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grab Alan by the hand and rush towards the scene of the calamity. Just when I know the crash site is around the corner the storm escalates beyond measure. Suddenly I'm worried. As I round the corner an awesome sight greets me. A tornado, a vortex of black menace, heads towards us. It spits lightning and the roar is deafening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no time to flee. I tell Alan to grab a hold of the steel wire fence we are next to. We cling to the fence as the maelstrom hits. Our feet are lifted off the ground, the shriek of the wind is so loud that my hearing shuts down. I am now viewing the world in total silence and Alan is losing his grip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as one hand slips I grab it. I pray that the fence holds because the ferocity of the tornado/storm/maelstrom has increased, if that were possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as suddenly as it came, it was gone. My hearing returns and the first sounds I hear is my own heavy breathing. The last rays of the sun appear again and the scene is bathed in that pale rusty colour that is an Australian dusk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A van or bus pulls up beside us. I help Alan get in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside are a group of women. Their beauty is stunning. The beauty is of an ethereal kind, born of elves and angels. There is a little bit of X-Files thrown in though. Angels they are not. It's their eyes you see, there is great wisdom there, but also mischief and wantonness. Thinking is difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them takes Alan and he curls up in her lap. Envy! The little conniving brat, he must be faking. If only I could get away with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I am talking to two of them. The others watch on. I will never remember what we discussed. One of the regrets of my life to be sure. I recall the gist of it though. They ask questions. I answer. I ask questions, they answer. All the while I am having 'a crack' if you get my drift. They know and respond. They hint and suggest. I can't help but take the bait. But I know it will go no where. They are teasing and so am I (sort of).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it gets serious. They have heard what they wanted to hear and I have agreed. As if I had a choice. To the future I need to go. To save humanity or some such thing. I don't care, I just want them to talk to me a little longer. They smile sadly and tell me my time is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farewell sweet maidens!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;End Part One.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-115690776034882087?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/115690776034882087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=115690776034882087' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115690776034882087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115690776034882087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/08/thunderstorm-rising-quick-sand-secret.html' title='A thunderstorm, rising quick sand, the secret service and a president falls on his sword!  Part One'/><author><name>lucky</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-115138143240235885</id><published>2006-06-27T14:03:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T14:10:32.420+10:00</updated><title type='text'>The Socceroos bow out, but what a way to go!</title><content type='html'>That was the most mature performance by the socceroos I've ever seen.  They have grown unbelievably under guus.  There is no doubt he is a super coach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However we were always going to be caught on the counter.  the signs were there in the first half when Toni could have scored 3 times.  Only last ditch efforts by chipperfield and legendary scwharzer saved us.  I believe that Italy falling to 10 men actually was the worse thing that could happen to us.  At that point we really thought we could crack their defense and pushed, really really pushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reality was that the Italian defense is superburb.  I mean fort knox, alcatraz, nuclear bomb shelter, AC -1000 brilliant.  Australia attacked it ferociously, but without kewl to provide an extra cutting edge we really didn't have a chance.  Cannavaro is a monolith in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only that, even though they were a man down they ALWAYS had numerical superiority in their half.  ALWAYS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because we pushed so hard, we were almost one on one at the back.  The quality of the Italian passing (from Pirlo and later Totti) always found space for their massive strikers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end we paid the price for having an attacking midfielder, Bresciano, at right back.  This is where Emerton would have been and Emerton would have closed that long ball no problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead Brescia failed to make his tackle, Lucas Neil made the ONLY mistake in his world cup and we were gone.  In the cruelest, most horrendously unfair and heart renching way possible no less!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fitting end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plenty of regrets, it was a dive, we should have respected the Italian counter more etc.  But in the end Italy deserved to win despite the fact that we didn't deserve to lose.  They were tactically smarter, more composed and more patient.  Their experience showed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also tremendously impressed with the spirit in which the game was played.  The Italians were honourable enemies and kept their theatrics to a minimal (Del Piero was the only consistent diver), despite their reputation.  Although the game was decided by a 'simulation', you can't blame the bloke for going down in that situation.  It was up to the ref to see it for what it was, and he didn't.  Every fallen player was helped up by his counter part and the game flowed brilliantly.  This game was the clearest indication of the new found respect the Socceroos have earnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least we all get some more sleep now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asian Cup starts in August.  Lucas Neil will Captain Australia for years to come.  On him will we build our temple of Football.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-115138143240235885?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/115138143240235885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=115138143240235885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115138143240235885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/115138143240235885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/06/socceroos-bow-out-but-what-way-to-go.html' title='The Socceroos bow out, but what a way to go!'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-114670896993648246</id><published>2006-05-04T12:08:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T12:16:09.946+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sudden Ramble about Rome/Italia</title><content type='html'>As soon as you walk around Rome you can see that she used to be the centre of the world.  Used to be.  There is history in every sign, stone, and building.  The place is old, but proud, still very, very proud.  The eternal city is an apt name.  Eternity echoes down every lane way and across every piazza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rome is filled with churches, big, nay, say mighty churches.  Above them all is St Peter's Basilica, literally out of this world.  The scale is beyond anything that can be built now.  Rome is also filled with people and the people have character!  From grandmas, to teenagers in their leather jackets, to the north africanguys that sell silly play doh toys when its sunny and umbrellas when its wet (I've still got the one I bought when it poured)! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People don't sit down and have a coffee like we do, they stand at the bar and have shots of esspresso. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch out for dog crap, its every where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And gypsies around the central train station, they are agressive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seagulls are HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE, all over Italy.   They are the sizeof friggen wedge tail eagles.  If 5 of them decided to attack you, you're dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The museo vaticano, a vast storehouse of the worlds art treasures, halls and halls of amazing stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact I don't think any city on earth can match the sheer density of historical monuments, buildings and landmarks of rome.  Trevi fountain, the ruins of the roman forum, the coloseo, the pantheon, St Peter's square, the list goes on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rome isn't so much a place to see but to feel.  In fact I can say that for all of Italy.  The sights and sounds are fantastic, but what you remember is the feeling of being in Italy.  It's hard to explain, its like a smell/thought/presence/image of painful intensity all rolled into one...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-114670896993648246?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/114670896993648246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=114670896993648246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114670896993648246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114670896993648246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/05/sudden-ramble-about-romeitalia.html' title='A Sudden Ramble about Rome/Italia'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-114240189211460338</id><published>2006-03-15T16:40:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T16:51:32.126+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Past Menace/Praedators Players - Part II</title><content type='html'>Wil.  Thanks for those who reminded me.  A blast from the past, Wil played with us during the formative years.  I'm pretty sure he wore a wrist guard the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muddy.  Hahaha of course.  When this man gets fired up his long arms and legs come to the for!  In defense he could really shut an opposition team down from marker.  In attack a reliable winger who loped along Kenny Nagas style.  I'm pretty sure he has one more gear but its reserved for other purposes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-114240189211460338?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/114240189211460338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=114240189211460338' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114240189211460338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114240189211460338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/03/past-menacepraedators-players-part-ii.html' title='Past Menace/Praedators Players - Part II'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-114233985209909409</id><published>2006-03-14T22:47:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T23:45:37.236+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Two sleeps to go... a time to reflect</title><content type='html'>Another season over and another date with destiny to keep.  Our first flag was won in the summer season of 1997-1998, the inaugural season of Bankstown Oztag.  Since then the Menace/Praedators unit has had many trials and tribulations.  We have seen players come and go and come back again.  Here's a trip through memory lane....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Players no longer with us - lest we forget&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rodney, by far the worse I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bowman, service from dummy half was his specialty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara.  Did he officially play with us?  Can't recall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simpson.  A superman.  Quiet off the field but an iron man on the field.  He was tireless and a good hard runner.  His shifts at Target really impacted on his availability for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam.  As a kids Adam and I competed at all sorts of sports.  He was light stepper and ran hard.  Alas the smokes and netball seduced him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jay, a fine player we were grooming for years.  Alas I can't even remember when he left.  He broke his collarbone for the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brendan.  One funny character.  Always scheming... with a heart of gold.  A jack in the box player who didn't mind some big hits.  Premedies.... hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kev.  Damn he had a lethal step.  If only I had 2 more seasons with him, we would have made him Bankstown's most destructive force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex.  Ahhh, whatever season the three musketeers joined was a momentous season indeed.  We never got to see the best of Alex.  Tennis held sway over him and then he got fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff.  Missed immensely.  He was a solid player to begin with but developed into one of the best players we've ever had.  His defense was outstanding and he became one of our most potent weapons.  Marriage and a move to Randwick saw curtains drawn on one of our finest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve and that other guy.  W-O-D.  We did not renew the contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hilton and Brad.  A one season cameo saw them come in and walk away with Praedators 2nd premiership.  Good on them.  One of our best seasons.  Hopefully Brad has recovered from the clean break to his ankle....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nelson.  When this man is on song he is unstoppable.  Simply the fastest man on the field when he gets going, he regularly cracked the line with a trade mark hip swivel.  We expect the big fella back in the coming seasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JC.  The enigma.  He has never really found a home in our backline, despite being one of our longest serving members.  Capable of anything, one of the games finest hole runners (if you pass it at his head).  We expect more cameo season's from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave.  Foundation member.  It will be a sad day indeed when this team plays for the last time.  But he's off to the UK and we will miss his coverage on the wing, his scoots up the sidelines and his grubbers that always eluded everyone into touch.  He will be best remembered for his Ben Tune gone wrong, his training mishap and doing the dak run with me at Canberra when neither of us managed to score a single try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I've missed plenty of players.  Apologies!  Feel free to remind me of other glorious or infamous Menace/Praedator team mates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death or Plunder Dog Brothers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-114233985209909409?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/114233985209909409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=114233985209909409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114233985209909409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114233985209909409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/03/two-sleeps-to-go-time-to-reflect.html' title='Two sleeps to go... a time to reflect'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-114125768761280597</id><published>2006-03-02T10:58:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T11:01:27.626+11:00</updated><title type='text'>DragonStar</title><content type='html'>Arrows whistled by as DragonStar ran around the enormous chamber. If it wasn't for the deadly armoured figure wreathed in flames chasing him, DragonStar could have spent days admiring the architecture of the awesome chamber. I would have to face myself the ghosts had said... fine, but how come my doppelganger gets an enormous Storm bow?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Remember DragonStar, the skills you prepare will be used against you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In his meditations DragonStar had thought long and hard on these words. In the end he memorized many enchantments that could help others. Since it would be single combat, those could not aid his mirror and if cast would actually be a burden to it. The only spells he would use would be Banish and Healing Breeze. The great oracle Googlethenlaus had told him long ago that Healing Breeze was often overlooked as a healing spell and he had hoped that his doppelganger would also overlook it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ommph! He winced as an arrow bounced off his hardened leather robes. It was only due to his agility that an arrow had not scored a killing hit. The duel had been raging for several minutes now. From the outset DragonStar had run from his nemesis. His doppelganger had immediately pursued, loosing deadly arrows at him all the while. Through out the chase, DragonStar would quietly hit his mirror with the mental strike Banish. DragonStar had always been a devoted healer, so the damage he did was minimal, yet ever so slowly his opponent was weakening.&lt;br /&gt;At last his inner ki felt recharged. DragonStar stopped running, pointed at his pursuer and whispered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DWAYNA BE PRAISED&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surge of power that ran through DragonStar's body as his mirror died was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was as if he had lived his entire life without any of the five senses... and now they had been granted to him! He could see details that had escaped him previously, he could hear sounds that he knew mortal men should not hear, his thoughts were quicker and more clear. The change was such that DragonStar let out a cry of sheer joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 14 years of age, DragonStar had ascended!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-114125768761280597?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/114125768761280597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=114125768761280597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114125768761280597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114125768761280597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/03/dragonstar.html' title='DragonStar'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-114040548632645745</id><published>2006-02-20T14:17:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T14:19:58.566+11:00</updated><title type='text'>War Stories - Part One - The Alamo</title><content type='html'>1. The Alamo.&lt;br /&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;Paulus "So where are we going?"&lt;br /&gt;Lu points to a heavily painted barricade.&lt;br /&gt;Paulus "Gotcha"&lt;br /&gt;Go!&lt;br /&gt;Lu finds himself alone at the Alamo.&lt;br /&gt;Support can be seen behind him and to his right. Chi, Paulus and QuangStar hiding behind the same tree.&lt;br /&gt;Lu sighs. "Watch my Right!!!" He says to QuangStar. Acknowledgement arrives.&lt;br /&gt;Peering through the barricade he sees the Mexicans swarming. He can see a barricade directly infront of him, about 10m away. Mexicans by the hundreds can be glimpsed behind that single barricade. More were joining them by the second. On his left is a pathway up the hill, along the boundary line. The Mexicans will want to climb this hill to gain the high ground and flank. His barricade has an excellent field of fire to cover any such attempts.&lt;br /&gt;On his right he can see another barricade, covered by an ally. The situation is tense but all is in order. The Mexicans would have to make a move...&lt;br /&gt;And then they did. Two Mexican senoritas made a dash up the hill! Taking aim, Lu waited until they came into his field of fire...&lt;br /&gt;pop, pop, popopeoepepeeopwiadioaoiadofiadf. The senoritas were no more. Lu experienced a slight pang of remorse, but it quickly passed. There were no innocents in this conflict.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly he noticed the barricade on his right was no longer covered by allied forces! In fact two of the Mexicans had control of the barricade! Leaning out he let loose a volley of paint that scored direct hits on one of the Mexicans. The other Mexican managed to slither behind cover.&lt;br /&gt;With Mexicans directly in front and on his right flank, Lu's position was looking decidedly shaky. If another man had been with him, his position could have been held indefinitely! But with only one set of eyes Lu had to focus on controlling access to the high ground, which left him dangerously exposed on his right.&lt;br /&gt;"Watch my right!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;QuangStar screamed something back but it was indecipherable amongst the whistling of projectiles and screams of agony.&lt;br /&gt;Two more senoritas made a dash up the hill! POP POP POPWEROAO#@$@#O#!$QEO. One was down but the other dived behind a twig and returned fire. POP pop POP PWEROWEO. Two more senoritas down. Why were the Mexicans sending their women folk to their doom?!?!? Monsters!!!!&lt;br /&gt;"I'm HIT! I'm HIT!"&lt;br /&gt;"ARARHGHG! ARHFHGH! me too!"&lt;br /&gt;A girly shriek!&lt;br /&gt;Chi, Paulus, QuangStar, gone just like that. Things were looking grim. There were now several hundred Mexicans in front of him as well as to his right. If both attacked at once there was nothing he would be able to do. For a moment he thought of retreating. But no, his being in this precise spot was holding up over a thousand Mexicans. Thousands that would otherwise be ravaging through the country side looting and pillaging. He had no choice but to hold.&lt;br /&gt;A lull came over the battlefield. The calm before the storm. Lu could now see the two enemy forces communicating frantically. It was about to happen. A two pronged assault on the Alamo was only moments away.&lt;br /&gt;"Torm stand with me now, my hour has come! Your cleric beseeches you!!!"&lt;br /&gt;SILVERSTAR MY CHILD. KNOW THAT I AM HERE. FEAR NOT THE HORDES OF YONDER MEXICANS. YOU WILL KNOW PEACE AT THIS YOUR FINAL HOUR&lt;br /&gt;SilverStar felt a surge of Holy Might, followed by Righteous Fury. A Blade Barrier sprang up around him.&lt;br /&gt;With a hideous war cry the mexicans surged forward. Millions ran up the hill, some breaking off to charge down at SilverStar's position. Millions more ran straight at his barricade, getting ready to crush it in a mindless stampede. Yet billions more could be heard rushing up on his right, but at these he did not look.&lt;br /&gt;Pop pop&lt;br /&gt;Pop pop&lt;br /&gt;Pop pop&lt;br /&gt;thud&lt;br /&gt;His left hand was numb.&lt;br /&gt;Pop pop&lt;br /&gt;pop&lt;br /&gt;thud thud THUD!&lt;br /&gt;Time seemed to have slowed beyond all measure. SilverStar/Lu noticed that the paint spray was now so thick that it seemed he was in a deep mist of pink, yellow and purple. It was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;At that moment he noticed one particular paint ball headed his way. It was pink.&lt;br /&gt;thud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-114040548632645745?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/114040548632645745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=114040548632645745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114040548632645745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/114040548632645745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/02/war-stories-part-one-alamo.html' title='War Stories - Part One - The Alamo'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-113859732065156770</id><published>2006-01-30T15:14:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T16:02:04.983+11:00</updated><title type='text'>5-4</title><content type='html'>A vastly depleted Praedator's outfit managed to sneak home a heroic victory last Thursday. Playing against the undefeated competition leaders, things were looking grim when only seven Praedators lined up at the kick off. Thankfully a late comer arrived to fill out a skeleton crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bates brothers (x3), Weapon, Chunga, Slappy, LotW and myself were the only one's who made it to this Australia Day show down. Our pivot, our other pivot and the nuggety rake all failed to show or had other commitments (sacrilege!). Arrayed against us was what appeared to be two teams, some of which were backing up from playing A grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The opposition won the toss, but foolishly decided to run into the sun (the only real consideration when you win the toss at Birrong Park). The first half was a ragged affair for the Praedators. The heat and humidity was oppressive, the grass was long and it was hard work. By half time we were down 3-1, a lone try to Mr Dependable (Marto) keeping us in it. Thankfully there were some hopeful signs. We were hanging in there and the opposition seemed a little down on energy for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second half was probably the best half of football I've been involved in for a long, long time. Amazingly we managed to lift our effort levels. A dummy to chunga/pass to LotW resulted in him streaking away down the wing. Then a switch of play to Ted gave him some room to stand up their shoddy blindside defense. Timmy chimed in as well and suddenly we were up 4-3 with 10 minutes to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What followed was the Siege of Birrong Park, 2006. The opposition were always going to come back and they countered ferociously. Afew penalties and we found ourselves defending our line desperately for 4 or 5 sets back-to-back. Brilliantly, the boys swarmed, shouted, kicked and cussed until we eventually forced them to make a mistake. In the set that followed we managed to ruck it out and kick it deep into their half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately we gave away a penalty at this point and shockingly allowed a big fat gumby to run straight through us and score! 4-4 with almost no time left!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remainder of the half was like a slow motion ballet. Somehow we found ourselves attacking their line, but with zero gas left, we seemed bereft of ideas. I suddenly found myself with the ball and angled hard across field, trying to entice someone to chase me, thus breaking up their line. Chunga was outside me and I knew he would come back in. I was going to dummy like I normally would, but changed my mind at the last minute and gave it to him. He seemed to hesitate but then the inside defender slipped! For what seemed like an eternity he looked around before realizing that no one was close enough to touch him. Three or four steps later he had put the ball down and the siren went!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Beauty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113859732065156770?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113859732065156770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113859732065156770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113859732065156770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113859732065156770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/01/5-4.html' title='5-4'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-113703859090105044</id><published>2006-01-12T14:00:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T15:03:11.006+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams...</title><content type='html'>Last night was a rather restless night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First it was quite humid. Secondly there was a mosquito on the loose somewhere, and finally temperature control commands were being given by the boss, requiring fan and a/c changes throughout the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case I dreamt about oztag. It was the first game back from the Christmas break and I was raring to go (this game is actually on tonight). I won the toss so we were receiving. Phi takes the kick off and manages to beat his man (this would never happen in a real game). I scramble after him in support (again unlikely in reality). However at the moment he is about to pass it to me, he balks and takes the tag instead. It seems I'm holding a pillow. I try and put it down but I just can't let it go for some reason. So frustrating haha, I wonder what that dream meant? Maybe it meant oztag is on today and I was holding a pillow in my sleep... who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next dream I was on my new bike (btw I bought a new bike off ebay, it was cheap but flies along and is exactly what I wanted, I'm in love...) and I was riding along minding my own business... when a black tiger with a white face appears and starts chasing me! There are plenty of people around but it seems just interested in yours truly. I am on a long, large boulevard and I have to ride up and down several times, weaving by pedestrians, before I manage to lose the tiger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully a more restful night is in store for me. That will depend on whether we get up in oztag I guess...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113703859090105044?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113703859090105044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113703859090105044' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113703859090105044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113703859090105044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/01/dreams.html' title='Dreams...'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-113677567112183567</id><published>2006-01-09T13:39:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T14:01:11.133+11:00</updated><title type='text'>BattleField 2, what a great game!</title><content type='html'>I have rejoined the first person shooter world recently by installing BattleField 2. An excellent game, narrowly missing out on greatness due to its lack of co-operative multiplayer (LAN party special).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't really complain though. Outstanding graphics, well designed maps, tight gameplay and the madness of 32 on 32 player action can't be beaten. If its a first person combat simulation you are after, this is it. You can do anything from being an assault trooper, to driving humvees to crushing infantry in tanks, to being a gunner in a helicopter! For the truly skilled you can even be a fighter pilot (its blardy hard to fly those jets around with keyboard and mouse I tell you!). The best and most additive feature of all though, especially for a hard core RPG'er like myself, is the global stats and score keeping. You can gain rank, get awards, medals, ribbons and badges! There's no where to hide either because everyone can view everyone else's record. Damn but I can't wait to make it to Sergeant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of the marketing spiel though, I've had some titanic battles already on the Internode, Xtra and GameArena servers. I'm mostly cannon fodder sadly (well AK fodder anyway), but I've managed to gain four of the basic badges available. Lmlucoz has also been promoted to Private First Class and is well on his way to Lance Corporal, woohoo! My stats are terrible of course, but I've always gloried in adversity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite maps are Wake Island (there always seems to be good battles here) and Strike on Karkand (intense firefights, no planes! haha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say hello if you see lmlucoz out there. I'll be that medic running suicidally across the road drawing fire :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113677567112183567?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113677567112183567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113677567112183567' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113677567112183567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113677567112183567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2006/01/battlefield-2-what-great-game.html' title='BattleField 2, what a great game!'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-113495080778492609</id><published>2005-12-19T10:43:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T11:06:47.790+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Australia vs South Africa, 1st Test Day 3</title><content type='html'>An excellent day's cricket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't watched much cricket recently, but it's good to see the Australians can sometimes dig in and fight hard. It's not easy to watch Hodge leave so much ball, especially in this era of Twentytwenty cricket, but by the end of the day he proved it was the right strategy. The pitch is clearly abit slower than a normal Perth pitch, so patience and good shot selection was the order of the day. I'm yet to be convinced that Hodge is the man for the job, but he performed very well yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile Hussey continues to show that he is of the highest calibre. Every time he's been called upon, Hussey has shown that he is technically sound, an outstanding fielder, an intelligent cricketer and a team player. We can't ask for much more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the South Africans, Andre Nel has impressed. What a psycho! He's all fire and brimstone, glares and nostril flares! You can't help but enjoy the spectacle, despite the fact the fact that he doesn't even bowl that fast! He has been extremely accurate though. A good find for the South Africans. Nel will provide them good service for years to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More insightful comments to come through out the summer...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113495080778492609?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113495080778492609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113495080778492609' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113495080778492609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113495080778492609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2005/12/australia-vs-south-africa-1st-test-day.html' title='Australia vs South Africa, 1st Test Day 3'/><author><name>lucky</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-113445034419418893</id><published>2005-12-13T16:04:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T16:05:44.200+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Retraction</title><content type='html'>Alas I had to take down the picture of Santorini since it wasn't displaying properly in IE.  I'll repost when I work out how to get it to display as I want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113445034419418893?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113445034419418893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113445034419418893' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113445034419418893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113445034419418893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2005/12/retraction.html' title='Retraction'/><author><name>lucky</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-113442912647509481</id><published>2005-12-13T10:09:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T10:12:06.476+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Muddy's Best</title><content type='html'>Muddy took alot of great photos whilst we were on our European adventure in 2004.  But none better than the one I have just put up.  That picture would not have looked out of place in any travel magazine in the world!  Although whoever owned that place in Santorini is a real b_stard.  No one deserves that view every day surely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw does the spell checker in the post actually work?  I click on it and it does nothing.  I highlight text and it still does nothing...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113442912647509481?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113442912647509481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113442912647509481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113442912647509481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113442912647509481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2005/12/muddys-best.html' title='Muddy&apos;s Best'/><author><name>lucky</name><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-19791828.post-113439269914263983</id><published>2005-12-13T00:01:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T00:04:59.153+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Japan is the Key</title><content type='html'>To make it through to the final 16 in next years World Cup, the socceroos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must &lt;/span&gt;defeat Japan.  There are those out there that might think a draw is good enough.  I disagree.  In a pool with Brazil and Croatia, Australia &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must &lt;/span&gt;defeat Japan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the first match, it will set the trend, give confidence and put pressure on the other teams in the group.  If they lose it's almost all over immediately because they would then have to beat both Croatia AND Brazil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113439269914263983?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113439269914263983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113439269914263983' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113439269914263983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113439269914263983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2005/12/japan-is-key.html' title='Japan is the Key'/><author><name>lucky</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-113438697152629218</id><published>2005-12-12T21:24:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T23:30:02.410+11:00</updated><title type='text'>An Emperor's Gambit</title><content type='html'>The UN elections did not go well for Napoleon. Not that he had any illusions of gaining the secretary generalship. The support just wasn't there. Napoleon had centuries ago made it quite clear that he heeded only his own thoughts and desires. The French empire was barred shut almost four millennia previously and remained so to this day. Admittedly the Incans finally pried open the gate, but only because they had the firepower to force it open anyway. For everyone else France was a land of arrogance and mystery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Aztechs had surely played a role in his UN defeat. His divisions of infantry were at this moment preparing to storm their last bastion on the northen continent. They had gambled that his war with Victoria had weakened the French empire sufficiently for them to a seize rich French cities on their eastern border.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately for the Incans, Napoleon had suspected just as much and divisions of cavalry had been deployed secretly awaiting the Incan invasion. The French cavalry had struck fast and frequently as Aztech foot soldiers surged over the border. Their rolling retreat had bought enough time for the French Grand Army, fresh from their conquest of England, to rush west and lift the seige of Lyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that point the Aztechs knew that their lightning strike had failed. What should have been a precise blow had become a relentless struggle. Both armies were blooded, well trained and well led. However France had the edge in production and logistics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After fifty years of struggle the once mighty Aztech empire was now a backwater kingdom in exile. They had sued for peace of course, knowing full well there wasn't the slightest hope. Theirs was an empire too rich to be left unsubjugated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so all that remained for the proud Aztechs was to ensure that France would be humbled at the UN. Napoleon would have lost the vote in any case. But the Aztech had worked hard to ensure that it became a foregone conclusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah, the UN was fool's construct! Created to protect the weak from the strong. Strangely it was the Incans that had established the United Nations in the first place. Napoleon had to admit it was an amazing gesture from the worlds greatest civilization. They could afford to be magnanimous. The Incans had also created the first section of a craft they believed would allow them to travel the cosmos. Grand dreams indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams that he hoped to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;shatter&lt;/span&gt;! It was all or nothing now that the Incan space program was advancing so quickly. The Grand Army had received their first tank battalion a month prior. Assembly lines were manufacturing more by the day. His spies were starting to infiltrate the Incan hierarchy. All was not yet lost. Or so he hoped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had never seen himself as a gambler. But this time he would do just that. One throw of the die for glory... or total annihilation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Viva La France!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113438697152629218?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113438697152629218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113438697152629218' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113438697152629218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113438697152629218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2005/12/emperors-gambit.html' title='An Emperor&apos;s Gambit'/><author><name>lucky</name><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19791828.post-113437251095075316</id><published>2005-12-12T18:21:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T18:28:30.960+11:00</updated><title type='text'>So this is blogging</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I've finally joined the blogging word.  Let's find out if I can still write intelligibly!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Hopefully this will start me down the path to writing that novel that's been floating around in my head for so long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;In other news race riots in Cronulla.  Sigh, I need to get that taverna in Santorini as soon as I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19791828-113437251095075316?l=lmlucoz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/feeds/113437251095075316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19791828&amp;postID=113437251095075316' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113437251095075316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19791828/posts/default/113437251095075316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lmlucoz.blogspot.com/2005/12/so-this-is-blogging.html' title='So this is blogging'/><author><name>lucky</name><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>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
