Pro Teen Drug Lord

This kid told me there's a codeword that they use over the PA at supermarkets to let the staff know that someone's stealing things. They say something like "Robbert Mc Robbert to aisle 3,Robbert Mc Robbert to aisle 3" and the manager can somehow workout that Robberty Mc Robbert is getting their robbery on deep within the lube shelves.

The kid said he just saw someone get busted trying to steal meat. He worked at a supermarket and said that 'druggies always get caught stealing meat'. I found this interesting. It's a strange thing to steal. I thought they'd be more interested in Blue Powerade or maybe NoDoz or NappiSan. But according to my research, kid that workes at Woolworth's, long term drug users crave free meat.

"All I need to do is stuff this pack of mince down the front of me trackies and I'm free. Just play it cool, slip it in and stroll out like I'm one of them secret shoppers. I'll be across the road in the park stuffing me face with lovely beef before anyone fricken notices. Just get that mince, get that mince and I'm in fucking meat 'eaven! I'll be piling sexy fistfuls of that wet pink in me gob haha! Might as well get some of them snags while I'm here. Probably wise, probably wise. Yep, gonna take the snags, shove 'em in there with the mince. Might as well, might as well. I'l be fucking hanging out for a snag in a few hours. A nice suasage, a nice little sausage. I'm takin' em! And some kidneys or somefink. Yeah somefink real wrong like that! I'm gonna eat kidneys in the park! Just gonna suck em and chomp em like I'm some kinda munch machine! The kidney's are going in as well! I've got half a cow down the front of me dacks!! MEAT MEAT MEAT!!!"

Boring town boring

I saw the best graffiti the other day. In a young defiant hand 'Girls suck. Tagging Rulz" was written on the bin of a neighbour.
That's probably the greatest way ever to get back at the girl you talked to once who now has a boyfriend. If she ever walks down the street on bin night she's going to regret not being your girlfriend but she'll be too late because tagging is the only mistress you'll ever worship! Ha. Girls! Tagging rulzzzzzz.

One time when I was 16 my friends and I fashioned a three hosed bong out of a four litre plastic bottle and some irigation tubing. We sat cross legged in a circle with my dog on the floor of my parents shed and made our way through a dinner plate of leafy weed. About halfway through we decided it was time to take it to the next level, to get into some harder stuff, something South American. I went inside and returned with a jar of Nescafe instant coffee. It didn't really burn too well and tasted like bitter bitter plastic. It was almost as bad as the time we smoked panadol. Or the time we peed in a bottle and then poured it in a letterbox. Why didn't we just pee in the letter box? It seems so much more perverse decanting from a bottle.

I didn't actually do that though (the bottle pee crime). A kid called "Oliver" did. He was a weird weird kid. He had a permanent bowl cut and always wore a 'parker' and played nothing but early Mac shareware games. He used to go continental delis and buy logs of marzipan and eat it like a chocolate bar. He was a year older than me but hung out with my little brother. They played Magic the Gathering and talked about orks. As he got older he became more perverse in his behaviour. My friend Chris 'Lizard' Howe and I wrote him a fake love letter from the girl down the road and hoped he'd go and see her and get punched by her brother.

The letter probably went like this:

"Dear Oliver,

I can't stop thinking about you. I really love you but haven't been able to tell you to your face. I really, really want to kiss you. And probably do sex to you.

Please eat the chocolate.
Love,
Colleen xoxox"

I attached a chocolate and sprayed the letter with my dad's deodrant so it smelt like a beautiful lady. The chocolate was a super hot warhead that I had covered in chocolate that we melted in the microwave and then wrapped in alfoil so it looked like a real chocolate that wasn't a warhead covered in gooey half seperated chocolate. Hoo boy when he ate that chocolate he was going to get a hot surprise! The problem was that no-one in the whole world, not even marzipan and Dad's nicorette chewing gum chomping Oliver, would eat it. It's dodgy alfoil packaging signaled 'danger' in the same way a number plate that says 'w8n . 4u' shouts 'bog lapping paedophile'.

Oliver didn't eat the chocolate. He didn't go to the girls house either. It was quite a letdown. He had my measure.

He peed into a Sunkist bottle. The pee was orange. Orange!

Dead Sharks and The Rockingham Shakes

My brother went away on a prawn boat with this guy. Dude was a meth head trying to get off the gear. Decided the best idea was to head out to sea for a month at a time. I'm pretty sure the guy would have got the Rockingham Shakes by the first night. I'm sure he would have been a great companion in the friendly world of professional fishing. I think he pulled the plug after a week or two. I kind of feel sorry for him. Actually, I definitely do.

Quotes that are my life

Cutting my own hair is the only option for me. i never know what to tell a barber and they always want to talk to me- Andy Jenkins

I can't get down with hairdressers. The conversation winds out before halfway through and I look into the mirror and sort of smile like I'm cool with the situation. I try and think of something to say and then cancel it out because it's been to long to break the silence. I find myself asking 'so how long have you been cutting hair' and they tell me and I say 'oh'. Dead end. Dead end.

The other day, when you came over, I was really there, but I hid and pretended not to be home.- Andy Jenkins

This definitely happened regularly about 6 years ago. Should be preceded by 'I've smoked a couple of cones and am borderline skitzo.' I won't pick up the phone either. Or leave the house. You're all out to get me. Weed and coffee. Fuck the birds. They're after me . Ganging up. Gonna peck my eyes. Ethan Fowler I want to skate rails.

Thai Buddha

I waited at the bus stop for a bus that didn't come. I then caught it to the train station to a train that never came. Technical difficulties. So I had to catch a bus full to the brim of old people who smelled like they'd ingested Miss Maud's Custard Sloppers, milky tea and talcum powder sweat dust.

Thanks Colin Barnett. I now know what it's like to live in the Eastern Bloc. You have opened my eyes. Next time I'm drunk on homemade kirsch I'm coming to beat you a deep shade of communist red with a pickled herring. You will feel the unrepressed groin kicks of my rage deep in your Soviet beets. I will also crash my Lada Niva into your Toyota and yell out 'Cold war! Cold War! Milosevic!'

My girlfriend came home with a funny looking passport the other day. I laughed and she cried. I thought it was funny until I got one today.


I probably can't ever enter South East Asia with this photo. I look like I'm hunting Chong. I want to chop chop. I'm gonna chase the dragon and blow goats. It looks a million times worse in colour but you have to be wary of teh identity thieves on the netz so I've used my exceptional graphic design skills to produce the cover for 80's weed punk phenom Weed Life's first 12". featuring such songs as Bad Buzz (coke and aspro), Til Tuesday IOU, Go it alone/ loving tonight, and the infamous Pork Chop Cops.


Green room.

Hospital drugs, the terrible two and the vaseline conjunctivitis

I've just got out of Hospital. I had my tonsils removed. I said to my boss 'I hope they take out my tonsils'. He said 'They'll pull out your tonsils and your balls will come out with them- they're connected.'

The Hospital I went to was small and old. I don't have private health insurance no more. In the waiting room, I leant on a table. The table had dried blood on it.

My operation went pretty well. I remember lying on the operating table waiting for the anethetist to shoot me high. like always he said ' a sharp scratch' and you feel a little pinch. But this time it was a little different, about five seconds after my shot of sleepmaker I felt the strongest pain in my left arm. It felt like my veins had been hit with electrified piss. It burnt bad, I said 'my arms really hurting' he said 'that's quite normal' and the dugite venom hit my heart and the oxygen took my mind.

I woke up in a parking lot of hospital beds with Vaseline all over my eyes.

It was in hospital, four days ago, that I became a drug addict. My throat hurt like I had a herring bone bridge where my tonsils used to be. The nurse or someone gave me a shot in my thigh. I was still feeling the anesthetic and it didn't really seem to make much difference. But hours later that night after having lame duck- no street cred-panadeine, I was hanging out for some good shit.

The bed next to me was taken by a fat troll from Rivervale. I listened as he got prepped for surge ( I have a phd). When asked if he had any problems he said ' yeah, I stop breathing.' He also said he had sleep apnea (spellink?). The nurse said that he was actually too overweight with the operation and was surprised that the doctor hadn't suggested he shed a few kilos of butter before he carved him up.

Anyway, this guy grunted, farted, sighed, mumbled, mouth farted, snored, and generally pissed me off all night. I kind of hoped he did stop breathing during his operation. (only for a short time, only for a short time.) He lied there all night in these little green undies with his bush escaping from all sides. I might seek compensation.

Anyway (x2) , i got my first real hit of peth. Man, as soon as the Samoan nurse shot that morpheate (spellink?) into my glutes I was ok. I sunk right down into that bed and let waves of darkness take my head. I was Hunter S., I was Hendrix and Cobain.

In the morning I wanted another but apparently the doctor only allocated me two hits. The fat man next to me got four, and he only had surgery on his foot, he had local anesthetic and he got four!

If I had private health insurance I could of got some to take home(probably not), Jim McGinty hates the working man. Shame Carps, shame.

I'm going to break into a hospital.

Classical Economics and the Peanut Butter Love Glove

Back in the days when I used to smoke weed I ate a big bag of Cheetos a couple of times. Man, those two go hand in hand. I ate a pack again the other day and felt like I sucked more MSG than two kilos worth of instant Mi Goreng. For the unacquainted, Cheetos are these super orange cheez(it’s a powder) and bacon balls. They make your fingers go fluoro orange like you’ve been giving Ernie and Bert proctology exams. I reckon they’d give anaphylactic and asthmatic kids wheeze attacks. “Mum uh uh uh Mum!!! Uh uhwhheeeso wheeeeeessssy”

The best thing about Cheetos is their mascot Chester. The back of the bag is entirely dedicated to listing Chesters Rad facts.
Favourite apparel: Sleek pair of shades (sleek pair of shades!! Awesome Radical Surfboarding!)
Favourite Snack: Cheetos (Well duh! Me too Chester, me too. I cry until my mum buys them for me every day and I eat them at school in the toilets. Awesome!)
Favourite pattern: Spots (I have spots but they aren’t my favourites. I hate tinea but I love you Chester!!!)
Occupation: Amateur Skater and Surfer (I go to school. I liked year 6 so much I’m doing it again)
Fave pastime: Catching radical air on half pipes and hanging gnarly on great waves (Hey Chester I don’t like swimming or roller skating. I do like rubbing back and forth on my belly on the soft mats in the gym at school)