While deep in the all-new, all-dancing, partially-healthy lifestyle I've been experiencing this year I figured I was long overdue for a bit of back work. My posture isn't that bad (in my incredibly unprofessional opinion) , but if I go too long without a massage I tend to form large knotted bundles of oxygen-starved back flesh. If left alone I'm sure these knots would form a large carapace across my back.

So Tuesday night I headed down to the local Osteopath for the first of hwta Im assuming will be many sessions. The Osteopath mentioned that her job was to ensure I didn't have to return, but really who wants to work themselves out of a job? She began the treatment with a ultra-detailed questionnaire about my body and it's precious bodily fluids. Digestive System? (No problems there!) Reproductive system? (No kids, but everything appears to work fine).

She ran me though a few stretching exercises to determine the damage, then proceeded to bend the living hell out of my extremities all the while calmly asking if it hurt. Of course it did. I'm not Gumby! As she yanked, poked and prodded things that really had no business being yanked, poked or prodded the process worked wonders and I felt the tight muscles unknit themselves without Gordian intervention.

At the end of the ordeal she gave me the verdict: my hamstrings are too short. Before I see her again I need to perform a series of stretches designed to cause maximum pain while "stretching out" my hamstrings. Two minutes of blinding pain a day, but if I don't do them I know the Osteo/Sadist will be bending me into even more complex shapes. And I'm paying for it by the hour.

Vintage Web Design. A very nice collection there. Maybe I need to plan for Panama V3.

Since posting the resolutions I've not so much attacked them as I've taken a few cautious sideways glances at them.

This changed when Mike gave me a chance to tackle number 5: Home brew beer. For Xmas Justine had given him a voucher for Barleycorn Brewery, a small brew-your-own warehouse in Oakleigh.

Our group of four (myself, Mike,Stephan and Chris) met up on Saturday to create the unappetisingly named Mike Juice. We spent the first few minutes trying beers to determine what we'd be making (probably too long as the "assistant" kept coming up and asking if we'd made a decision yet). The winner of that little contest was a Stella Artois knock-off called Stella! Strangely enough Marlon Brando impersonations were kept to a minimum.

The process itself was idiot proof: Measure out ingredients into coloured bowls, add contents to large vat of boiling water at specified intervals. While we tended to the heady brew Chris - being the only one smart enough to bring a camera - snapped off a tonne of photos, which will hopefully be available on his Flickr account soon (hint hint!)

Once the brewing was complete and Mike had emptied the contents of the vat into it's new plastic drum home we zig-zagged across town to the centre of Oakleigh for some well deserved lunch. We go back February 2nd for The Official Bottling.

The whole thing was hell of a lot easier than what I thought it would be. When I go it on my own (note use of 'when', not 'if') I'll be a lot more confident. Sure it'll be a lot more intensive without a massive boiler or mechanical mixer, but there's very little chance of me completely ballsing it up. And now that I've said that there's a very good chance that I'll completely balls it up.

Pixel cookies! Oh. Hell. Yes.

Fellowship of the Ring - HD vs DVD. So thats what all the fuss is about!