Proudly Losing My Marbles

He tried. That’s the long and the short of it. With great persistence and determination, my father did his utmost to turn me into a well-rounded human being. That I have ended up with more angles than The Yellow Peril can hardly be his fault. Instead of developing an array of hobbies and interests, I succeeded in absorbing the tiny pieces of information that any one else would rightly regard as useless. If you’re heading to a pub trivia night, I’m your guy. But if you’re looking to shoot the breeze with someone who has a catalogue of fascinating pastimes, look elsewhere.
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Census Working Overtime

You’re welcome. By all means, send your best wishes by card, email or carrier pigeon but please, no flowers. After all, it truly was my pleasure. In fact, you might even say it was my duty. The weight of personal obligation aside, do spare me a thought when the next school, hospital or sporting stadium pops up in your neck of the woods. For I have done my part to make all these things happen. Granted, mine is a modest contribution, but without it you might have had to settle for a cinder-block bus shelter and a give-way sign. That’s right: I have completed the Census.
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A Life Less Travelled: Byron Bay

Relaxercise. Don’t bother looking for it in any dictionary. Despite my letters, emails, postcards and frequently turning up unannounced at the front door at three o’clock in the morning, the people at Macquarie Dictionary are unaccountably reluctant to bathe the term ‘relaxercise’ in the warm glow of recognition. Which, given their willingness to dip their hat in favour of ‘goon bag’ is something of an insult. If you’re not familiar with the term, ‘relaxercise’ refers to the amount of effort required to relax. It has particular meaning to people who are (for want of a more delicate way of putting it) uptight. People just like me.
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