Thursday, September 30, 2010

I'm getting older every day and my dreams seem so far away. A short poem.

Today has been the most boring day of my whole entire life. I started thinking and have come to the conclusion that I may have peaked in primary school. That's when I was at the top of my powers. Glory days.

I passed a bus full of old people that had "You've got a lot of living to do" across the side which is basically code for "You've got a lot of living left to do" which is basically code for "You haven't got a lot of living left to do".

I read the Bunbury paper today. The letters were exceptional. I think they were written by toads who have somehow gotten a lift up to a keyboard from an old Lions club retiree. One of the letters bemoaned the sale of Bunbury's prime beachside real estate to 'Chinese interests"! Oh no. The world is done for. Might as well drink that communal Kool-Aid and wait for the mothership. Prime real estate has been purchased by foreigners!!!!! The letter goes on to state that Barry (Toad name Bartelomush) had driven past the land for the last 20 years and had said "something needs to be done with that land". He'd had the foresight to drive past for 20 years and comment to his passenger "something needs to be done with that land" but nothing ever happened and now it's too late because 'Chinese interests' would be using it to control regional television and be putting chili in all our foods! Doomed. We are.

Fucking toads.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

I have no reason to lie to you

If you're going to eat tuna (after lifting mass weights at the gym or humping couches*) you cannot go past Italian tuna. It's saltier and oilier than seal liver and will make your coat shine brighter than the light of Jesus.

I remembered something the other day. As I was traveling toward the light after my operation the nurse said "You're very lucky, you've got such long eyelashes". Then I said "I'M LIKE A GIRAFFE " and tried to pull a giraffe face. I actually did this. I had ice packs strapped to my face and a blood pressure monitor strapped to my leg.

I'm not sure what kind of hospital straps a blood pressure thing to someone's leg. Probably the same type of hospital that gives kids vasectomies when they come in to get their tonsils yanked and has bad custard. It was like opaque vaseline. Or some type of cheap breast implant. It almost smothered me.

Man I love you.


*Humping couches means lifting couches. My year four music teacher told me. She didn't really like me very much.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Saturday, September 25, 2010

I may have already mentioned this


You know when you've cut onions and your fingers smell like onion for four years afterwards?No matter how many times you wash and scrub them under boiling water the smell of le' onion still lingers. Like Daryl Somers hanging around the bins behind a cheesecake shop hoping to score a too ripe slice of yesterday's french vanilla fat flan - there's no getting rid of the pesky stench.

You might rub your nose and notice that your fingers still smell like onion. You sniff your fingers curiously.

You should never do this.

All it takes for one person to see and you're looking at jail time or indefinite exclusion from your mixed netball team/yoga class. To any passerby you look like some sort of sexual deviant that has either a) conducted some sort of digit based fiddling on another person or b) enacted some sort of digit based fiddling on yourself. There's no way way to make it seem casual. You're immediately a fiend who is savoring the waft of some filthy warm achievement.

If you screw up your nose at the scent of the onion it makes it look a million times worse. Actually, it's probably worse if you chuckle and say "It's still there!" There's no way out. You're locked in. Forever the seediest person ever.

Onions. What about them? (potential start of my standup routine. Then I'll point out the difference between men and women and end with something about something that didn't actually happen but I'll say it did. Raw comedy finalist. In the bag.)

I guess you don't want to be the sort of person that cuts onions with gloves though. I mean you'd probably look like an even greater sex pest (level 7 jizz wizard) if potential dining partners found used latex gloves all over the kitchen. What kind of shit have you been pulling? You think your dinner guests are going to be down for that jazz? You have some nerve buddy!

You're fucked. Might as well stay home and eat peanut butter out of the jar/make witch haus songs on garageband/cut your hair.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Latino Esse

The other day at work I received a phone call for a workmate who was away on leave.

The caller said "I really need to talk to her."

"She's not here", I said.

"Can you call her?" She asked in a really whingey voice that sounded like she was some sort of whinge bag that goes to Chicken Treat.

"She's on leave" I say. And then I add some latin to drive the point home "She's persona non grata".

I'm not sure why I did this. I thought it just fit. A quick search of wikipedia tells me that persona non grata means "an unwelcome person". Yeah that's what I meant. An unwelcome person. I got non gratitude from the persona on the other side of the phone though. Obviously not a person of the book like me.

Thursday, September 09, 2010

Buzzed Cut

The other day someone tried to tell me that Tekken was better than Street Fighter. This person was my girlfriend. Yeah watching blocky faux 3D polygons go slow motion is way better than making E.Honda's hand look like he's having the most violent wank of 1994. Totally unrealistic and simplistic call.

This conversation reminded me of my favourite T-shirt. It's a Street Fighter shirt and it looks like it's been airbrushed. It has Blanka about to bash Chung-Li on it. He's already bashed Ryu and now he's going to bash her. Electrically. Around the outside it has all the other characters in various poses. I bought the T-shirt when I was ten from a massive petrol station some where in country Western Australia. It must have been huge because it still fits me. It was manufactured in 1993, all rights reserved Capcom. I have worn it every day (mostly at night) since last friday. That's almost a week. It is seriously the best T-shirt I have. But I only wear it inside my house.



I got some cold and flu drugs today. They're super drowsy ones. I went to sleep at 2.30 in the afternoon. I feel like I'm trapped in the new SALEM album. Or maybe in a drone. One of them.

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Puke & Cry

I grew daikon radish. It's basically Spirited Away in my backyard. They're so full on that they're almost humanly impossible to eat. Tough as whales.




crowded

Saturday, September 04, 2010