Posts

What's one family recipe that you wish you knew how to cook?

definitely not mum's carob cake.

What's something you should throw away, but can't?

okay first this laptop, cause It is deconstructive and it seriously eats my creative abilities like cherry-flavoured candy floss. I see/hear/read/do/think something exciting and yeah wow I just want to write it down but can't because the time I get around to tapping it in my fingers go limp and start protesting every llittle stumbly button and then I start fucking up every word and they get turned backwards and it is just an effort to keep going. so that just leaves all the rest, and believe me, this technological revolution well it is grand and mighty but listen up folks it ain gunna last the millenium hear me? no way, its already starting to quiver and crack at the sides and that which may make us feel more connected is indeed pushing us further and further apart. all this immobility, the idle moments of that and this even the most .... wait

thats bullshit, I like the net. have done for years. I just get lost in the space like some greek myth and the ball runs out and that minotaur is hot on my ass and its dark and I drop the torch and MUNCH munch munch (packet disorder_301) yeah. fucking gates, stupid gates. dumb name, dumb glasses, probably dumb sex life. If he got sex in year 8 he would have been much better off, mentally and spiritually like me. tee. hee.

AND

I'll tell you what, I want to get rid of this damn stupid mouse, I bought. Its a logitech whizzbangfuckingtoastmaking device that cost more than well, the last one I bought, and so I thought, hmm sturdy mouse cool huh well yes it doesn't have any cords and it has a whoppity shitload of buttons that I will never ever end up using and hey cool it even  has a little lcd display that changes colour and.. .whats THIS just because I lost the charger that came with it and thought, hey no probs i'll just use my brothers universal phone charger that'll do the trick, YEAH just coz I used that on it for.. lets say a few weeks... they fucking things melts in half right! the little lcd like disentegrated or whatever you call it when it sort of becomes nothing. And i thinks, SHIT how am i gunna pwn those dumb little faggots in cs on a touchpad. argh. I attempted many a time.

AND

no, thats about it.

I would like to get rid of my ankles, too fat I reckon.

oh, I would like to get rid of my white skin where it isn't white, I want a telemovie tan, without the melanomas.

I want whiter teeth too, like, teeth you could blind a man with at the right angle.

wait, you cant want things can ya, true. oh no, dont break the post ed.

I could part with this caravan tin can caravan, yes, its not made for spices or middle eastern harem trafficking or even gypsy hijinx, its made for me. So I have to live in this big long box made out of industrial canvass and fake 70's wood decor. Noooo,. nooooonono, if I had this vision when I was just about to get kicked out of yr 11, I would have got on my hands and knees to lick the very ground my disapproving principle walked.

NooOoooO. ah well, still kinda works.

mreh.

So looking down you have all this pattern, like a neurotic snake might choose on the day of his creation, and bits are flaking off and ruining the surrounding furniture. By chance, also decomposing in myriad ways providided by the laws of nature. Big churner, the fan, is humming delicately over there on the table. Crummy table! Squeekiness doesn't neccessarily make a fan delicate either, but with these noise-cancelling headphones... well, the possibilities are endless.

My caravan, my cave. And me, the caravan caveman, oh we do make a smashing team. Marooned out here just far out enough to enjoy the seabreeze but close enough to cop the fallout from the backpacker circuit ie. drunken yobbo shouts at 4o'clock in the morning which hint at uncon'sensual' sex. I get my friends out here to hijack the tedium, which works until they shapeshift into THEM. Carnal beasts with eyes on the eurotrash prize. Such enterprise.

Drinking a rather lot lately, as due to being in the big smoke and yeah, it happens ok? But that's not that exciting, what is exciting is my semi-trailer driving baby trucker boss, who looks rather like a recently-kicked bloodhound, is dragging my sorry ass out of the aluminium temple tomorrow for workies. And not just that, I have to get on 'killerboong' as so it is dubbed (so what, I'm not pc) my trusty cyclitic steed and ride all the fuck the way to canningvale. Which is fitting for my bike, but not for my precious virgin flesh. nuh-uh!

So I have to hook up this archaic system to the inter-web and make haste with train scedules and bus connections and frequent bashings ofcourse, love! And not eat so much dang hideous backhouse bakery food, its horrible ed! you know that. So stop already.

What is your favorite day of the week?

FUCKING THURSDAY MOTHERFUCKERS I HATE YOU FUCK YOU CHERRIES!!! YUMMM AAAARGH!@!!!!@

So yeah, I have some funny experiences up my sleeve and I feel compelled to talk about them.
But just for starters I will officially open this blog.
Snip.
done

Okay, but anyway, so I haven't been up to much. Work dried up a few weeks ago and new work came along but there was the possibility of it requiring me to live in Manjimup which is a fucked up hellonearth shitehole, so obviously wasn't jumping at the opportunity. Alas, this has led me back to my old mostly stationary ways, and here I am back on the bullshit circuit. I get tired real quick though, like before I was having a shower and thinking all these amazing ideas I should really get down and then I get out and I sort of forget what they were and the enthu... see? gone!

funny thing number 1.
the other night I got drunk with the 'boys' and ended up spewing up in andrews garden, passing out in a big puddle of beer and then going to sleep in his bed, and waking up to find him sleeping on the mattress that was actually meant for me. Ha! oh goodness. there is more to the story, but somehow I think I got the main bit out of the way.

funny thing number 2.
uh, well, nothing that special. actually, no what am I DOING here>??? argh? posting? noooooooooooooo...

well, try again soon huh?

Do you believe in ghosts?  Have you ever seen a ghost? 
Submitted by Nancy.

Well, it was the summer (or spring) of 1992?and us little kids being a gang and all had this habit of roaming around the streets unattended, which probably was a healthy thing sorta, and we ended up coming across this weed infested house on the hill. A nice hill actually, you could see out across the valley into town and etc.So we had a bit of a peak in there, checked it out, and all of us decided to play hide n seek in it, because no-one else was going to bother us in this run-down old house. And uh, I ran around the side garden, which was waist height with wild oats and heaps of debris scattered around, like bits and pieces of someone elses life. Tacky stuff really... but anyway, I ended up in those sort of outhouse bit, like an open bathroom? The door must have fallen off it's hinges or something. And I thought "lil ripper, I can hide in there, no-one's got a chance!" and i went in and crouched on the floor of this decrepid shower cubicle, covered in mold and guck. I looked down for a second, and the weirdest thing, there was this barbie doll visor thingie ( you know, the ones you wear in the sun? or playing poker?) It was bright pink. thing is, it looked like new, and all of a sudden I got this massive electric rush up my spine, and I felt like I didn't really belong in there. Something sort of grabbed me, I lost conciousness, and I sort of can't remember what happened after that. I won though, my friends came and found me all dazed out, and they all agreed it was spooky spooky and we better keep maraudering down the hill before someone gets et.

true story, happened to me.

maybe my little ticker was so excited at the combination of trespassing and hide-and-seek, I fainted instead of letting a little bit of wee out. who knows?

I want a better question next time vox, you fucking sellout!

So every now and then, you get that itch.

You want to write and condemn the world around you, litter it with fantastical phrase. Lock it in an airtight container and sell it on for some pretty penny. Or just walk away muttering like a disgruntled old man/woman. Either way you want to externalise it, throw it outside and mark the passage of its passing as if it ever had relevance.

You know when you have one of those eureka moments? When you stop and wish you could go-go gadget out a notebook and pen from some recess in your bellybutton, if not just to scrawl a single sentence upon it, and chances are by the next day it will make no sense anyway. I might go something like this:

ten tanks of fish, be by the kettle, oh, cats! cats! NO CATS!

...

yeah, just like that.

So surely we promise that if we could only capture these divine moments in prose, we could surely create an atomic reaction in the suburbia around us, truly tear the cobblestones from the earth and rain hail upon the lesser gifted few surrounding us. Yeah, but seriously, like we ever had a biro ready for that kind of epiphany. I bet being a genius would be a perpetual pain in the backbits, all that incoherent jam sludging away through your own skull and somehow being able to pick the seeds out and decipher it into that hideously expensive french conserve you can fin... wait, enough of this buggerboo,

nice to finally get here.