Monday, November 22, 2004

Must have fort

I've always had an obsession with forts. Something about the idea of being in a little enclosed area where I am protected from everything and that I have everything I need (suprisingly I am also claustrophobic). No bad guys could possibly get me in my fort. Two antennas got married. The wedding was terrible but the reception was great. So they watched the O.C.
For this reason I like to be in the most fortlike location as possible in any place. For example, at Nando's I like to sit in the end counter, closest to the wall. So when I was at home today I thought I'd build a classic will-fort out of pillows. Here is what I came up with:

Impenetrable! Sturdy! Maybe I should become an architect!

Hahaha not even attacking Daewoo dogs (Daewoofs?) can get me!

Possibly one of my most humiliating stories is the one about how I failed my P-plate driving test on my 17th birthday. I had been taking driving lessons every week and I was so excited about finally being able to drive (and listen to music in the car, my dad had the best cd player in his car) by myself! What a birthday present! So I turned up for the exam, totally nervous, yet prepared. And I did the test flawlessly... everything was perfect, 3 point turns, lane changing... even reverse parking (no kerb!). It was the toughest 40 minutes of my life, but I did it. Well... except for one thing. I didn't stop at the stop sign in the RTA testing place as I was leaving the complex, 20 seconds after I started the test. I had failed before I even began! Argh! The most scarring moment of my life. I had to wait 2 months before I could do the test again.
A horse walked into a bar and the bartender said "OMG CAPTAIN OATS!".
And now I know the reason I failed that test. I had been misled all my life about the concept behind stop signs. Their very shape encouraged me to do speed up. I have proof! Look what has been at the bottom of my driveway since I was a child:

I should have argued I was psychologically unable to complete my test!

Well I love my pink nails. And my pink converses. And my pink shirts. And my soon-to-be-acquired pink skeleton tie. Of course I consider myself to be a manly (not Manly) man. But it appears I am misled in this assumption. Look what I found today:

Oh no. I'm fucked now aren't I?

Thursday, November 18, 2004

Mo' apostrophes!

I bought plasticine today. It was an awesome chance to relive my childhood days, when mum used to buy me rainbow clay kits and I'd sit for hours building ninja turtles and other favourite things of mine. Here's what I came up with:

The Battle of Blaxploitation:
The army of the uncool (the army men slavin' for the man) threaten to pinch the hard earned bling from the blaxploiters, headed by Eminem (like an m&m, white on the outside, black on the inside), Michaelangelo [sic] (he just oozes the cool, no pun intended) and Sandy (from the O.C.: the godfather of funk). Also on the blaxploitin' team is a (nail)Polish army soldier, who defected to the cool side after gettin' fed up wit those fools dissing on his sexuality (now he plays for the other team!). Battle on bruthas, keep dat ice!

Here's a closer look at my little masterpieces:

Eminem, Michaelangelo and Sandy.

What else happened today? Well, since everyone bar Charlie and Liz finished their respective exams, we hit the bottle at about 3pm and spent the day doing stupid things in the hot. The bulk of it was taken up by mo' skateboarding in Camperdown park. If you look to your right you will see a randomly generated trading-card featuring a skateposin' proskating skater. Collect all 5! Meanwhile here is Pat chillin', maxin' and relaxin', in a photo that best sums up the day:

"I am the sun of ray Charles"

For the rest of the day we watched Scream (take that Alys!), got hungover at 8pm and had terrible port at the Town Hall. I was also conned (by my stomach) into buying a ridiculously overpriced sundae at Gelatomassi at midnight. Tasted expensive.

I've got to say that I find the whole Shady/Aftermath Hip Hop mafiaism very intruiging. I mean here you have these pretty ordinary guys like Dr. Dre and Eminem, yet they have legions of 'crews' who would do anything to protect them. I think basically the way it goes is, if you diss on 50 cent, G-unit fucks you up. If you diss on Eminem, 50 cent AND G-unit fucks you up. If you diss (or PUNCH!!!) Dr. Dre then you are just fucked full stop. See here we have a simple, nice awards ceremony honouring Dr. Dre's lifelong achievement. Some guy comes up and punches the doc, and out of nowhere G-unit descends upon said guy and ouches him with chairs and stabbing. Ouch. It's a scary thought, and it makes you wonder how a hierachy like that forms. They must have mo' paper.

On a final note, my mac msn looks way cooler than the boring windows one. It skins it as a conversation, thus making it interesting to talk even if nobody wants to speak to you. Observe:

George V ponders on what to do after realising that there are no children to devour.

Monday, November 15, 2004

Planet Home

I thought I'd take you on a guided tour to some of my favourite areas. But because I'm so lazy I will of course be sticking within 2 minute walking distance from my house... but don't let that detract from the fun!

Tour go:
In no way is the name of this Youth Health Service a threat:

This wall has better conversation skills then I do:

A nice, friendly welcoming statue for the hospital for mothers and babies. Except for one little thing... HE WILL DESTROY YOU AND FEAST ON THE FIRST BORN!!!

It's impossible to say the ridiculous name of this shop without saying the unridiculous "convenience store". A dirty cost-cutting printing trick:

I thought they were cringing WITH me:

Right, mock the disabled MORE why don't you?

Most awesome shope ever:

Give me all of your mothers and babies!!!!! TO EAT!!!!

Also, check out the reviews for this product. Not one person even considered reviewing the shoes properly... makes for some fun reading.

I saw the last episode of Sex and the City tonight. I never thought I'd say it, but this is one show that even I wouldn't buy in a DVD boxset (even if it comes in a shoebox). It was so shit it could have been writen by J.T. Timberlake.

Saturday, November 13, 2004


Well I'm totally wasting away in my post-arts bender. Now, usually when a uni student goes on a bender there is beer, partying and schenanigans involved. One would expect to wake up in the middle of the sea on a dugong hunting vessel with a treasure map and seventy three canadian rupees stuffed into their only item of clothing, two left footed hush puppies. But no. I just wake up at 2pm, have a boost juice, spend all day watching XXXX, eat dinner, play gta, watch XXXX, go to bed at 4:30am, then do it all over again. And I tell you, I wouldn't change it for the world. Even though, of course, I am now officially the saddest person ever.

On my last night in dad's office, I noticed something kind of strange about the office building right opposite. Everything about it was just generic office fare, ie: empty desks, grey furniture, the odd water cooler to discuss the latest episode of XXXX over (sigh, that's the dream). But, one of the rooms on this standard office floor was a bit different. It appeared to be some kind of strange disco chill out room. Right in the middle of the office! My god, how awesome must generic office life be? You get boring, tedious, meaningless work, the boss on your back, a watercooler, lame pictures of cats and a PRIVATE DISCO CHILL ROOM. I envy so bad. Here is the proof:

The watercoolest.

It was very hot today, so I decided to don my wife-beater and zip on up to King St on my skateboard to buy some nail polish. Of course I fell off my skateboard within 2 seconds, but the woman who helped me choose the right shade for my nails thought I was a hardcore skater. Haha fool. Oh wait, I think I'm the fool. But I (alys... [with hidden masterful painting talents, especially on the gay army man])) did paint my fingernails:

I sure challenged the sexuality of the girl who served me at Nando's.

On a completely unrelated note to anything mentioned in this entry, check out my random O.C. coolperson generator on the sidebar. It's like an awesome suprise every time you visit! In fact I'm refreshing myself just so I can see all these rad people. As I said, saddest person ever.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Working the ol' 9 to 5 (PM to AM)

So tonight was my 5th night in a row writing my Renaissance essay at my dad's work in the city. I always tell stories about what happens after I overdose on too much work and honour system coke: that I start to go a bit insane and and have crazy adventures with my friend the giant Roussilon butterfly. But I know most of you don't believe me. So I thought I'd provide a bit of visual evidence regarding what usually goes down during one of my late night working parties at Dad's office:

What!? No Rousillon! It would be a bad idea to take apart the boiling water machine to see how it works... oh ok then I guess it would be fun.

Hey look what I found in my Dad's office... it's the "about the author" bit from a book one of his clients wrote. After reading this (which she obviously typed herself) I am kind of tempted to read the book:

I too have the Cries for FREEDOM!

MOTHER OF FUCK!IE@# BUSH JUST WON!! FUCK. FUCK. ARHG! I just found that out then. Oh, the world is most definitely in trouble. Anyway (can there really be an anyway? We're fucked), since I was following all day I have decided to compile my favourite images from the ones they used as part of their election coverage:

Ah, memories

Anyway I just finished my essay on the Last Supper to hand in at midday... FUCK that's in 8 hours! I need to get some sleep before putting the finishing touches on it. Pat is also still up doing his all-night thing (actually he's only up till 4am tonight, tomorrow will be one of his true allnighters). But he was still delirious enough to make this image for me from one of my Last Supper pictures:

I feel honoured to have a Pat image on my blog.
But what does honour even mean anymore after my experience with my Dad's work's honour system drinks fridge?

Oh and on a moral note (I am writing my Practical Ethics essay from tomorrow after all... although I don't know how moral it is, it's on porn and animals [and sometimes both, disturbingly]), I have been writing down all the drinks I take on the little "drink charge" list, so they are not really free.

Oh and on a drink note, today I drank two supertasty supersize McDonald's cokes in a row with Georgie. And I'd do it again! Maybe that's why I'm still up... sorry about the fence sludge pat!

Oh and on a something note, I should go. BYE!!!

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Temp job

As a means of procrastination, I've made one of those "what's hot and what's not" generic temperature things using my mind-bogglingly great Illustrator skills:

If you don't get this you're missing the points.

Update: I won $20 on the melbourne cup. Jockeys really do wear pretty stupid clothes.
Also here's a little interesting (NOT AT ALL) listening-cycle update: 2 of my recently bought albums rank amongst the shortest-listening-cycle-lastability ever. Thirsty Merc with 3 listens and Good Charlotte with 2. Take that Good Charlotte! Currently Green Day's American Idiot is the best of the eighteen I bought.

Update: Go Kerry!

Update: Holy valance Bush is going to win! Fuck. AMERICA, WHAT!? Oh, on the topic of Americans, for some reason my delirious brain came up with the line "Brazilians are Americans too" sometime during sleep last night. I wonder if this is true.

The Bush family watch the election results from Texas, home.

Monday, November 01, 2004

Fuck Tha Police

Argh! It's 4:37am and I can't get to sleep because there is police drama going on right outside my apartment window. For the last hour there has been a really noisy fight going on between 2 police cars, a taxi and a wanky-sounding bmw driver. From what I can tell it's like a plot straight off the Bill, apparently the guy is the cousin of some cop and he's out on a buck's night joyride. They are having this huge arguement... I WANT TO SLEEP. I WANT TO GO TO McDONALD'S IN THE MORNING FOR PANCAKES! Please go away I need to sleep really quite badly.

And what's worse, they caught me peeking through the window at them. The siren spinning colours are cool but disturbing of my sleep. PLEASE.

I envy all of you who sleep now.