Sunday, 24 February 2008
Awwwwww so romantic
You know, there is supposed to be a video clip here but it is not working on my computer. I hope you are all seeing it though. I have another I want to post shortly so maybe I will have better luck with that.
The ice age starts here
I had another unpleasant domestic moment today, this time I was defrosting the freezer. It had reached a critical point when the door was jammed shut with a crate of bottles with some disreputable homebrew within. I discovered some interesting things. Probably the most interesting for me was my seeming addiction to purchasing, being unable to use, and then freezing chillis. I expect chilli will feature on some upcoming menus. Lord knows, my listings are going so slowly it might be a case of make do and mend. Say it with me people, DAMN YOU TRADE ME PUNTERS, DAMN YOU ALL TO A BIDDING FRENZY! It's inertia that is keeping me going, because I can't think of any other reason I am persisting. Maybe I will just drop a whole lot of shit off at the op shops soon. Oh god it hurts to think that someone else might buy the rubbish and successfully sell it on trade me though.
I suppose I an soothe myself by contemplating the newly empty freezer, and the pools formed by the hunks of ice I chiseled from it. Anything so I don't have to think about work tomorrow.
I suppose I an soothe myself by contemplating the newly empty freezer, and the pools formed by the hunks of ice I chiseled from it. Anything so I don't have to think about work tomorrow.
Saturday, 23 February 2008
Don't die on me now computer
Not when I can't save enough money to buy a new one!
I would launch into a discussion of how they don't make computers like they used to, but that would be obvious. My laptop is significantly lighter than a 1950s computer, and it does not take up the whole room.
So I suppose it is onto the get rich quick schemes again. In the past these have not gone well, but maybe I will get rid of absolutely all the crap I own on trade me for unexpectedly high sums. If I can check my listings - meaning if the computer lasts that long.
I should never have developed the taste for that olive and feta lifestyle.
I would launch into a discussion of how they don't make computers like they used to, but that would be obvious. My laptop is significantly lighter than a 1950s computer, and it does not take up the whole room.
So I suppose it is onto the get rich quick schemes again. In the past these have not gone well, but maybe I will get rid of absolutely all the crap I own on trade me for unexpectedly high sums. If I can check my listings - meaning if the computer lasts that long.
I should never have developed the taste for that olive and feta lifestyle.
Friday, 22 February 2008
Is this going to degenerate to labels?
I was having a stunning tantrum this morning, when I hauled my lazy carcass out of bed and prepared myself to get to work. At the last minute, as I always do, I groped the fridge for today's lunch. Always,t he lunches must be pre-prepared because there is not a shit show of me actually being up early enough to make one on the day.
What did I find (other than disreputable odour)?
The platic container, with a little rice and no curry with it. OK so someone mistakenly ate the curry, inconvenient but I suppose I could deal with it. But when I find half aserving in a bowl on the bench to go mouldy & some bland rice in the fridge I get really fucked off. Who thinks that someone is seriously going to eat the caking nugget of rice left in the plastic container, especially after it has no doubt been stirred by a be-salived fork. Why not put it in the compost because realistically it is going to end up there anyway, just several weeks later and stinkier.
This also tells me my lunches must be of epic proportions, but then again I never get up early enough for breakfast.
A fly just buzzed around me. Obviously I am letting my hygeine slip.
Anyway, coupled with the people bitching at me at work, and the utter boredom of it all I am about ready to go out and kick some people.
Maybe I could start with that bloody fly.
What did I find (other than disreputable odour)?
The platic container, with a little rice and no curry with it. OK so someone mistakenly ate the curry, inconvenient but I suppose I could deal with it. But when I find half aserving in a bowl on the bench to go mouldy & some bland rice in the fridge I get really fucked off. Who thinks that someone is seriously going to eat the caking nugget of rice left in the plastic container, especially after it has no doubt been stirred by a be-salived fork. Why not put it in the compost because realistically it is going to end up there anyway, just several weeks later and stinkier.
This also tells me my lunches must be of epic proportions, but then again I never get up early enough for breakfast.
A fly just buzzed around me. Obviously I am letting my hygeine slip.
Anyway, coupled with the people bitching at me at work, and the utter boredom of it all I am about ready to go out and kick some people.
Maybe I could start with that bloody fly.
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Another reason I dislike telephones
Went out for dinner tonight, which was served a little late & so we consquently took our sweet time getting through the meal. Ordinarily this would not have been a major problem but I decided I was going to be really diligent. So, ate my dinner and cut short my pontifications so that I could waddle up the hill in time to make phone calls at a reasonable hour (before 10).
What happens? Vein in my head throbbing from unprecedented exertion I dial the number with trepidationa and DAMMIT I've woken people up.
As a night person I can't understand anyone going to bed before midnight, preferably long after, but that never counts as an excuse. I bet people who make phone calls at 7 in the morning don't feel guilty or apologise because the moral highground is with them. It is fundamentally more moral to be up retardedly early than it is to stay up ridiculously late.
What happens? Vein in my head throbbing from unprecedented exertion I dial the number with trepidationa and DAMMIT I've woken people up.
As a night person I can't understand anyone going to bed before midnight, preferably long after, but that never counts as an excuse. I bet people who make phone calls at 7 in the morning don't feel guilty or apologise because the moral highground is with them. It is fundamentally more moral to be up retardedly early than it is to stay up ridiculously late.
Tuesday, 19 February 2008
I miss my playstation because I can't watch the Prisoner
As ever listening to the Macc Lads is an eye opener, but not nearly so big an eye opener as the listening to the Shaggs. Someone asked me if I would like to collaborate in a cover (I love Foot Foot perhaps?) and I didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered.
Anyhow, I have a decidedly uninteresting several days, with just two mangy cats for company. I thought I should try to catalogue my excitements.
-Aquiring a copy of Alan Moore's graphic novel From Hell for 50c
-Pet Shop Boys video, cheap
-Walking to Baldwin street, and realising that I truely am the cheapest person in the universe
-Successfully avoiding singstar
-Records night
Surely there must be something else? Maybe not, since every morning I get up and wonder is this it? Why the hell don't we all just kill ourselves if this is all there is to look forward to. Then again there are flashes of amusement. My appointment television this season, for instance. Yesterday I was treated to Louis Theroux getting liposuction did, with his priceless remark about it being his first pressing. Juxtaposed with the bag of bloodies fluid and fat globules it was just special. So nice to know there are other foul people out there.
Anyhow, I have a decidedly uninteresting several days, with just two mangy cats for company. I thought I should try to catalogue my excitements.
-Aquiring a copy of Alan Moore's graphic novel From Hell for 50c
-Pet Shop Boys video, cheap
-Walking to Baldwin street, and realising that I truely am the cheapest person in the universe
-Successfully avoiding singstar
-Records night
Surely there must be something else? Maybe not, since every morning I get up and wonder is this it? Why the hell don't we all just kill ourselves if this is all there is to look forward to. Then again there are flashes of amusement. My appointment television this season, for instance. Yesterday I was treated to Louis Theroux getting liposuction did, with his priceless remark about it being his first pressing. Juxtaposed with the bag of bloodies fluid and fat globules it was just special. So nice to know there are other foul people out there.
Sunday, 17 February 2008
Kitchen whinging again
I'm really getting a bit tired of the flat at the moment, the constant cat wars, the overenthusiastic kitten with no sense of personal space, no boundaries and no apparent ability to take a hint. One of its favourite hobbies is jumping on the bench, and it sure has rich pickings at the moment. Though there are two people at the flat at the moment one of them contrives to spontaneously abort meals all over the benches and walls like a mad woman's shit. I have cleaned it up once, but then I thought, no I'll sit this one out on the second occasion, on assurances that it would be tidied. Ground zero occurred on Friday night, it is Sunday and I am still waiting. Of course, I can't actually use the kitchen in the mean time, everythng I want to use is filthy. And I don't want to clear up and be a doormat again. It's enough to make you...well me...want to go on a shooting spree. I have not got the luxury of trotting up to my palatial room to escape the shithole, no I have to sit in the lounge, try to look and block if I make a cup of tea, and subsist on microwaved offerings and stale baked goods. I don't really give a flying continental if people are tired after their week of work, because I sure as hell don't want to be cleaning in my few hours off either, but I do it more fool me.
Anyway, matters have come to a head because now I absolutely have to cook something as a favour, and I am running out of shitty convenience foods.
Hmm. It seems I am being stalked on trade me & keep selling to one person. Oh well, money is nice but I want heaps of positive feedbacks and stars too...
Anyway, matters have come to a head because now I absolutely have to cook something as a favour, and I am running out of shitty convenience foods.
Hmm. It seems I am being stalked on trade me & keep selling to one person. Oh well, money is nice but I want heaps of positive feedbacks and stars too...
Life and little disappointments
The major problem with discovering trends and artists a bit late is that shock of realisation that actually they died some years ago. Your grief is illegitimated due to the temporal distance of the events. Imagine being a teenager, discovering Kurt Cobain only to find out that he passed on some years since. How can you wail and gnash your teeth without embarrassing yourself? And you are too new to the bandwagon to pull rank, fans from back in the day will make snide remarks about your fan status as they were with the band back in the day, drawing Kurt Cobain love hearts and crying into Nirvana t-shirts back in the nineties.
It's a dilemma, really. Which is why you should never become enthusiastic about anything, it saves heartache and embarassment.
More links and a moan
So it isn't all shits and giggles then?
I do wonder what the story behind that was.
I'd love to hear what this guy sounds like, move over Max Raabe.
The BBC is just filled with these exciting stories, and some horrific ones, like the Jack Nicholson quote about working his animal magnetism on the laydeeze. Yes it was a joke, but still horrendous. Well I can match him for horrendousness. I have come up with a new euphemism. It all happened when I was bookguarding some more tedious books. One of them was entitled "The Wind in the Tussocks" which I thought sounded filthy. So, share and enjoy this one: "That really puts the wind up my tussocks". Evocative no?
Anyway, I have to go and swear at my trade me listings for a while now, bid damn you all!
I do wonder what the story behind that was.
I'd love to hear what this guy sounds like, move over Max Raabe.
The BBC is just filled with these exciting stories, and some horrific ones, like the Jack Nicholson quote about working his animal magnetism on the laydeeze. Yes it was a joke, but still horrendous. Well I can match him for horrendousness. I have come up with a new euphemism. It all happened when I was bookguarding some more tedious books. One of them was entitled "The Wind in the Tussocks" which I thought sounded filthy. So, share and enjoy this one: "That really puts the wind up my tussocks". Evocative no?
Anyway, I have to go and swear at my trade me listings for a while now, bid damn you all!
Links and my tentative foray into science
Well, on the face of it this looks amusing, but I do have to query some of the other people who ave recived awards...Richard Gere, Halle Berry, amazing actors I am sure. When's Madonna getting hers?
Anyway, I am also glad to know that we are focusing on important issues, like inter-planetary understanding through culinary exchange and also a nod to what may well be my home planet.
Anyway, I am also glad to know that we are focusing on important issues, like inter-planetary understanding through culinary exchange and also a nod to what may well be my home planet.
YES WE CAN
Ahhhh, I was so concerned about which primaries candidate celebrities were supporting. Thanks to the Yes We Can video we can all know:
support Obama, who has amazing innate rhythm.
Seriously there are some fucked people out there who will vote for a candidate just because some celebrity arsehole endorses a candidate. Oh man, Scarlett Johannson endorses Obama, I'm sold!
Also, note how men play guitar and women just sing earnestly at the camera?
adam rodriguez
alfonso ribeiro
amaury nolasco
amber valletta
auden mccaw
anson mount
austin nichols
aisha tyler
bryan greenberg
cliff collins
common
derek watkins
ed kowalczyk
enrique murciano
eric balfour
eric olsen
esthero
fred goldring
harold perrineau
herbie hancock
hill harper
john legend
john schaech
kareem abdul jabbar
kate walsh
kelly hu
maya rubin
nick cannon
nicole scherzinger
sam page
sarah wright
scarlett johansson
shoshannah stern
taryn manning
tatyana ali
tracee ellis ross
will.i.am
support Obama, who has amazing innate rhythm.
Seriously there are some fucked people out there who will vote for a candidate just because some celebrity arsehole endorses a candidate. Oh man, Scarlett Johannson endorses Obama, I'm sold!
Also, note how men play guitar and women just sing earnestly at the camera?
More uplifting tracks in preparation for Monday
I find this one terribly cheerful, but not half as uplifting as the one comment posted to the video:
How does he achieve this pitch?Is it because he is short?
Thank-you Lobotomyu. Thank-you for asking the tough questions we might not have thought, or had the courage to ask.
Saturday, 16 February 2008
You're different, and that's bad
I have been stuffing around doing I-don't-know-what-but-it-sure-was-dull for the last while, which means I have not had a chance to post anything. As if there were much point, my turd-like effusions cause very little ripple in great blog toilet bowl. But I suppose in the absense of interest or excitement a routine is what we have to fall back on. So, to promote regularity, here is an update about life in Dunedin.
Possibly the most thrilling tale would be the descent of such actors as Naomi Watts and Hugh Jackman on our humble olde towne. One gets the impression that Naomi may still be a bogan at heart, I heard she was spotted in the Maclaggan St. Warehouse. Pursuing a bargain no doubt, before repairing to the number one shoe warehouse. I don't know where she was staying but given that example of slumming it I suppose she may have dipped a toe in the Dunedin accomodation cess pit. I can imagine her shieking "I demand the room Gwyneth Paltrow stayed in!" at Corstorphine house.
Hugh Jackman, on the other hand, seems to have recoiled from our fetid shores, electing instead to stay on a multiple million dollar yacht. Yacht is such a disappointing nomer though, I think we should call it a PLEASURE CRAFT.
Local celebrities have suffered under the introduction of these exotic species. However they have fought back valiently with some displays of their own. I was treated to one last Saturday. This included an exegesis on privations and breakdancing in 1984. Sniffing glue on the streets, roving crews, sleeping under bridges...a time when I would have paid a weeks wages for this sock *brandishes grey looking long sock* THIS WAS THE SOCK OF ABUNDANCE! I was also treated to a display of breakdancing, don't worry we cleared the furniture, and learnt a new handshake fresh out of South D ("gimme some syndrome"). Ahhhh, the peculiarity of people. It's strangeness like this that makes an evening, thought I could have done without the domestic sniping.
Also so a few blasts from the past out, but I will have to fish for more details about them at another time. Subtly, because I can't allow certain people to know that I am curious. I'd hate to get a reputation as a gossip mogul.
Possibly the most thrilling tale would be the descent of such actors as Naomi Watts and Hugh Jackman on our humble olde towne. One gets the impression that Naomi may still be a bogan at heart, I heard she was spotted in the Maclaggan St. Warehouse. Pursuing a bargain no doubt, before repairing to the number one shoe warehouse. I don't know where she was staying but given that example of slumming it I suppose she may have dipped a toe in the Dunedin accomodation cess pit. I can imagine her shieking "I demand the room Gwyneth Paltrow stayed in!" at Corstorphine house.
Hugh Jackman, on the other hand, seems to have recoiled from our fetid shores, electing instead to stay on a multiple million dollar yacht. Yacht is such a disappointing nomer though, I think we should call it a PLEASURE CRAFT.
Local celebrities have suffered under the introduction of these exotic species. However they have fought back valiently with some displays of their own. I was treated to one last Saturday. This included an exegesis on privations and breakdancing in 1984. Sniffing glue on the streets, roving crews, sleeping under bridges...a time when I would have paid a weeks wages for this sock *brandishes grey looking long sock* THIS WAS THE SOCK OF ABUNDANCE! I was also treated to a display of breakdancing, don't worry we cleared the furniture, and learnt a new handshake fresh out of South D ("gimme some syndrome"). Ahhhh, the peculiarity of people. It's strangeness like this that makes an evening, thought I could have done without the domestic sniping.
Also so a few blasts from the past out, but I will have to fish for more details about them at another time. Subtly, because I can't allow certain people to know that I am curious. I'd hate to get a reputation as a gossip mogul.
Friday, 8 February 2008
Yeah, really smooth
This has just got to stop. The strange imitation cat noises. The general retardation. Subnormality.
Things reached a triumphant climax today. I had been working late and was vacant, tired and irritable because the bank closed before I could get my mission accomplished, damn their gentlemen's hours.
Anyway, after staring forlornly at the bank I saw someone I know walking along George street so I decided to follow them to Pequeno for an after work restorative beer.
However, as a lot of their workmates were turning up & seating was at a premium I thought I should leave early. Try to leave, because I was starin at the doors in the darkened atmosphere trying to figure out which one. I got distracted by the middle doors which cunningly lock unevenly so it looks like you can push one. Then I glanced to the side, saw the push sign & realised all the while I had been making the spastic cat sound effect.
Embarrassing.
And this leaves me with the depressing thought that I will never have any credibility because even something as simple as opening a door I manage to bungle. Sheesh.
Things reached a triumphant climax today. I had been working late and was vacant, tired and irritable because the bank closed before I could get my mission accomplished, damn their gentlemen's hours.
Anyway, after staring forlornly at the bank I saw someone I know walking along George street so I decided to follow them to Pequeno for an after work restorative beer.
However, as a lot of their workmates were turning up & seating was at a premium I thought I should leave early. Try to leave, because I was starin at the doors in the darkened atmosphere trying to figure out which one. I got distracted by the middle doors which cunningly lock unevenly so it looks like you can push one. Then I glanced to the side, saw the push sign & realised all the while I had been making the spastic cat sound effect.
Embarrassing.
And this leaves me with the depressing thought that I will never have any credibility because even something as simple as opening a door I manage to bungle. Sheesh.
Thursday, 7 February 2008
The horror, the horror
It has finally happened. A picture of me has broken the surface like an unflushable turd, and entered the facebook sphere. I assure you that I am not willing to tolerate this tagged monstrosity and I have taken decisive action. To torture my early analogy I am a lifeguard and I see the turd in this pool. Its being shut down. I mean, it's one thing to have mysterious blur representation, but when the focus is getting slightly better, the photo is tagged with your identity and you look terrible. It's unchristian I tell ya. Who wants to look at photos when they are unphotogenic and have spent years deluding themselves about what they actually look like? You will all understand my distress I am sure.
My only consolation is that I am largely obscured by a bottle of wine although one can see enough of my doughy face to recognise me.
My only consolation is that I am largely obscured by a bottle of wine although one can see enough of my doughy face to recognise me.
Wednesday, 6 February 2008
Celebrating our proud nation
In all liklihood the general public are more concerned about which supermarket might be open than celebrating the treaty, caused us nothing but trouble etc etc etc, lucky we didn't just take it all from them like in Australia etc etc etc. I'm spending my day quietly. I finally acheived a sleep in, not one of my record breaking efforts but a respectable 11am nonetheless. Since then my day has been a whirlwind of unpleasant domestic tasks which will culminate in scrubbing the kitchen floor. How very colonial.
How very depressing. One thing I have to say, this blog will completely destroy my mystique to the two or so people who read it. I can imagine them sitting before the screen, shocked to realise tha yes, their god has domestic chores just like they do. So difficult to find good help these days.
Enough procrastination, time to crank up some motivational montage music, shoo people out of the lounge and get medieval on the grime.
Even framing it as a heroic quest doesn't make me enthusiastic. I was not born for this drudgery, where's my escape?
How very depressing. One thing I have to say, this blog will completely destroy my mystique to the two or so people who read it. I can imagine them sitting before the screen, shocked to realise tha yes, their god has domestic chores just like they do. So difficult to find good help these days.
Enough procrastination, time to crank up some motivational montage music, shoo people out of the lounge and get medieval on the grime.
Even framing it as a heroic quest doesn't make me enthusiastic. I was not born for this drudgery, where's my escape?
Monday, 4 February 2008
So it backfired
And now I have System of a Down in my head.
I suspect my dreams will be all the sweeter for it, and you, my dwindling public, shall be enriched by my experiences forthwith.
If I still have the same song in my head tomorrow night I will try eating avocado before bed for an even more special memory.
I suspect my dreams will be all the sweeter for it, and you, my dwindling public, shall be enriched by my experiences forthwith.
If I still have the same song in my head tomorrow night I will try eating avocado before bed for an even more special memory.
How can I grasp your power?
In keeping with my track record of all electronic equipment dying rapidly it looks like the computer is having difficulties. The power cable is, to put it nicely, conveying power intermittantly, and I have just noticed a funny grinding noise. I knew something ahd to crap out as soon as I got my stereo fixed. Its all about maintaining the status quo you see, at least 3 defective appliances at any one time.
I thought maybe one of those slsk gimps had put a hex on me for a while though, damn bastards banning me, just as I was getting to the juiccy hilarious parts of the albums. Evidently it is not enough to share, you have to share the right stuff. The cool stuff. The stuff that will make everyone think you know lots about music because you are getting down to some throat singing or whatever. Madonna's greatest hits on nose flute.
Well, I am theorising. I can't have offended these people any other way since I don't speak to them. I'm beginning to think all my problems with the world stem from other people. How much nicer it would be to be the only person! Then the onus would not be on me if I didn't get along with others.
Anyway, work tomorrow & it does not feel like I have had much of a weekend. My flatmates are pampering themselves with a late night because they have days off coming up. Damn, when I end up doing chores and being busy all weekend it feels like the drudgery is unremitting. How many more decodes of this can I hope for? That's probably the reason I hate people asking about my plans for the future. It's scours as far as the eye can see.
Obviously the thought of having to get up and do it all again the next day is what puts me off going to bed too. A wallpaper of tedium and misery follows again and again and again, though maybe that is because my attitude stinks (another facet of my failure).
Meh.
I thought maybe one of those slsk gimps had put a hex on me for a while though, damn bastards banning me, just as I was getting to the juiccy hilarious parts of the albums. Evidently it is not enough to share, you have to share the right stuff. The cool stuff. The stuff that will make everyone think you know lots about music because you are getting down to some throat singing or whatever. Madonna's greatest hits on nose flute.
Well, I am theorising. I can't have offended these people any other way since I don't speak to them. I'm beginning to think all my problems with the world stem from other people. How much nicer it would be to be the only person! Then the onus would not be on me if I didn't get along with others.
Anyway, work tomorrow & it does not feel like I have had much of a weekend. My flatmates are pampering themselves with a late night because they have days off coming up. Damn, when I end up doing chores and being busy all weekend it feels like the drudgery is unremitting. How many more decodes of this can I hope for? That's probably the reason I hate people asking about my plans for the future. It's scours as far as the eye can see.
Obviously the thought of having to get up and do it all again the next day is what puts me off going to bed too. A wallpaper of tedium and misery follows again and again and again, though maybe that is because my attitude stinks (another facet of my failure).
Meh.
Sunday, 3 February 2008
A new theme?
I could go several directions with this one - ESOL hard rock, Eurovision, or maybe (and this is my favourite) Biblical themed rock songs.
While I decide this and other pressing matters enjoy the videoclip
Now that I think about it...
OK so I have been hitting the Youtube a bit hard
but oh, remember Frankie? Such a glorious moustache! And Justin is so good at that white man shuffle dance.
Everybody's going to the party have a real good time
I had the sudden thought that SOAD's more politcal tracks would have even better responses from the public, and I was not disappointed. Witness this exchange:
Just what am I talking about? La-la-la-la-la OOO-eeeOooooo
Slashtheguitargod (22 minutes ago) For all You RETARDS out there its BRING YOUR OWN BOMB!!!!!!!!!!!! NOT BRING YOUR OWN BANANA,BEER,BOTTLE!BOMB!!! yah its talking about WAR (hence BOMB)
sumoman53 (30 minutes ago) bring your own beer
glauciamelissa (1 hour ago) LOCO
carolove94 (2 hours ago) I like this song :)
gyazy (2 hours ago) bring you own bitch!
musicluvr016 (2 hours ago) thanks
InspectorLegrasse (2 hours ago) these guys kick asss
hayabusa5545 (2 hours ago) Bring Your Own Bottle
zombiek1d (3 hours ago) BRING YOUR OWN BANANA LOL
Just what am I talking about? La-la-la-la-la OOO-eeeOooooo
Such a lonely day
bad grammar should be ba-a-a-a-anned!
I die a little on the inside whenever I hear them singing about the most loneliest day of my life. Thats nothing though - other users who have enjoyed this song are already dead on the inside:
I just know that System of a downsyndrome are going to be remembered for their haunting harmonies and powerful angst messages.
I die a little on the inside whenever I hear them singing about the most loneliest day of my life. Thats nothing though - other users who have enjoyed this song are already dead on the inside:
J11EVAN2 (13 hours ago) wow! i freakin love this band. this is by far thier best song. not thier best video, but freakin incredible song, for real.
hahabug12 (1 day ago) i love this song..i think of how people worship the world when i hear see this and hear this....
Marketka999 (1 day ago) The most beautiful song on the world!!!<3 <3 <3
niggicollin (1 day ago) I think he feels the same I do but its every day for me soo lonely that, if I hear this song Im very close to tears its so heavy to move in another fuckin town where u neva wanted to be, but u cant get away. its fucking shit i really like this song.
I just know that System of a downsyndrome are going to be remembered for their haunting harmonies and powerful angst messages.
A word of encouragement
So topical in light of the Mankini ban at the Sevens too.
Is it sevens? What is sevens? You know what I mean.
Party on down guys
Sometimes I bore myself with the grumbling. No, I always bore myself. But that is not going to stop me on this occasion. I have just been at someone's going away party - they are heading to Germany, which will be fun and exciting. I hope they will enjoy themselves and that they enjoyed their party.
As I am not good friends with this person or their social group I was a bit dubious about attending, but it's always good to try to branch out. Initially I was enjoying myself well enough. I got to talk to some new people and enjoy the exotic location (St Kilda). 6 something hours in, however, and the novelty was beginning to pall. The planned return to Dunedin city centre had not eventuated and there were no signs of positive movement. In fact some people were beginning to flag. Not, unfortunately, the contingent of fags who arrived brandishing Bacardi and a bladder of wine. The handbag house was duly turned up and those who are into that sort of thing strove to prove their bisexual credentials with lashings of tedious innuendo. I just don't understand why people don't get bored of the "fabulous" and repetitive double entendre, some of which is just pathetic. Alternate uses for a thermos flask anyone? Maybe the Victorians had something in their swathing piano legs in modest fabric, and refusal to acknowledge the existence of many cylindrical objects. Maybe it was not prudishness. Perhaps, being confronted with one too many ill-conceived (oh hee hee hee) split me wide open jokes they decided to forstall prurience & steered conversations at social gatherings to the state of the roads and the weather. Ultimately it might be more interesting; at least there are alterations in those states.
So, there I was, mooching and bored in a corner, while a bunch of particulaly poisonous individuals shrieked and laughed over the reputations in tatters on the floor. The kindertechno was a-pumping, the libations a-flowing and the posing grew more frenzied. I have mixed feelings. On the one hand I am irritated I was beneath notice. I was spared some hideous interactions. On the other hand it is insulting to realise that one is beneath contempt (or perhaps they were saving the bitchy remarks until I left?). When the drunk personalities ran the gamut from hyperloud to the avuncular (as in Uncle "I said pull the plug chain gently" Frank.) I was about ready to go. When I heard the pop dance remake of Poison I was ready to throw myself through a window. No-one seemed very ready to move so I made a curt farewell and started walking back to town by myself. I figured that an assault would be preferable to the slow death there. People often talk about life cycles, but this is a dynastic concept. If you look at an individuals place in that chain you see life is just a slow process of putrification. Anything, I thought, that shortens that process can't be all bad.
But no, I made it home unscathed, with no alteration to my sense of torpor. I was totally ignored. Bloody hell, I'm not even worth abusing. And while I type this a bunch of pricks dance around a handbag and congratulate themselves on being fabulous.
As I am not good friends with this person or their social group I was a bit dubious about attending, but it's always good to try to branch out. Initially I was enjoying myself well enough. I got to talk to some new people and enjoy the exotic location (St Kilda). 6 something hours in, however, and the novelty was beginning to pall. The planned return to Dunedin city centre had not eventuated and there were no signs of positive movement. In fact some people were beginning to flag. Not, unfortunately, the contingent of fags who arrived brandishing Bacardi and a bladder of wine. The handbag house was duly turned up and those who are into that sort of thing strove to prove their bisexual credentials with lashings of tedious innuendo. I just don't understand why people don't get bored of the "fabulous" and repetitive double entendre, some of which is just pathetic. Alternate uses for a thermos flask anyone? Maybe the Victorians had something in their swathing piano legs in modest fabric, and refusal to acknowledge the existence of many cylindrical objects. Maybe it was not prudishness. Perhaps, being confronted with one too many ill-conceived (oh hee hee hee) split me wide open jokes they decided to forstall prurience & steered conversations at social gatherings to the state of the roads and the weather. Ultimately it might be more interesting; at least there are alterations in those states.
So, there I was, mooching and bored in a corner, while a bunch of particulaly poisonous individuals shrieked and laughed over the reputations in tatters on the floor. The kindertechno was a-pumping, the libations a-flowing and the posing grew more frenzied. I have mixed feelings. On the one hand I am irritated I was beneath notice. I was spared some hideous interactions. On the other hand it is insulting to realise that one is beneath contempt (or perhaps they were saving the bitchy remarks until I left?). When the drunk personalities ran the gamut from hyperloud to the avuncular (as in Uncle "I said pull the plug chain gently" Frank.) I was about ready to go. When I heard the pop dance remake of Poison I was ready to throw myself through a window. No-one seemed very ready to move so I made a curt farewell and started walking back to town by myself. I figured that an assault would be preferable to the slow death there. People often talk about life cycles, but this is a dynastic concept. If you look at an individuals place in that chain you see life is just a slow process of putrification. Anything, I thought, that shortens that process can't be all bad.
But no, I made it home unscathed, with no alteration to my sense of torpor. I was totally ignored. Bloody hell, I'm not even worth abusing. And while I type this a bunch of pricks dance around a handbag and congratulate themselves on being fabulous.
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