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

Hellvis Parsley

Spin Kicks For Jesus

I got a Christian comic in the mail the other day. It was about a guy that had a heart attack and lay in hospital in a coma. A kind man came one day and read him the bible. Amazingly this woke him up. He then got his life back on track. This is where it ended. It didn't get to the part where he went to the local swimming pool and celebrated his new lease of life by defecating in the deep end right near the diving platform. It's in the director's cut.

I was wondering if everyone in my street got a god comic or if it was just my house. Perhaps they'd seen how I relax as they walked down the street on a saturday morning. Guessed that I probably wouldn't be able to read big words and decided that a comic would be the best way to get me to stop humping the couch( while practicing kissing with the inside of my elbow) with the windows open. My dad's oldest brother was a born again christian. He gave me a Jesus comic when I was seven. It was the most disappointing thing ever. It was all about moral turmoil and had no reference to snot, bubble gum or skateboarding. It didn't even have ads for American breakfast cereals that weren't available in Australia.

I saw a guy reading a Warhammer magazine on the train the other day. He was sitting there like it was completely normal. It kind of made me feel ill.



Whale Oil

Sniffing Paint/Chasing Taint

About one thousand years ago I studied fine art at TAFE before I went to unamaversity to study the inverted pyramid and global imperialism. I thought this would be a good idea as it would allow me to smoke weed and get paint on my shoes/get famous.

It was a bad idea. My cohort consisted of long term dole recipients, ex-teachers, old men that wanted to paint sailing ships, and a guy called Greg. He was probably the worst. He had this absolutely shit CD of classical musicians playing Tool songs. He would insist on putting it on and then try and explain to the old guy that wanted to paint sailing ships how amazing and powerful Tool were. Then he would walk past some girls, close his eyes, and sing the lyrics in some sort of soprano pitch with epileptic head wobbles. His face looked like his balls were pressing up against his stomach and he was reaching some sort of painful climax. I'm pretty sure this is a good way to get girls. That or neck massages with hands you've warmed up in your pants.

For his final piece he painted an eye on an old television. I couldn't believe how bold a statement he was making. Like we watch TV, but what if, like TV, was like fucking watching us man? Like what if it was a way to keep us consuming? Like the government and the corporations are like controlling society through mainstream media. He brought the fucking truth. I learnt a lot from him - Dudes that wear loose weave beanies wank to Tool with their eyes closed and that John Howard was the boss of television and fast food.

I had a painting class at night with a bunch of old mature age students. We had a few life drawing sessions with a red-head nude model. I think some of the old crusts were eternally stoked. They were a little bit too keen and it kind of freaked me out. When it was time to go around the class and look at everyone's work a plumber said to me "You did a real good job on the titties. They're hard to get right". He'd positioned himself to get a good view of the butt and was very proud of his rump rendering. Another old guy brought a camera and asked the model if he could take a photo of her face so he could 'finish it off at home'. I'm guessing he was probably going to finish it off in the coffee break out in the carpark inside his '85 laser. The lecturer jumped in and said there would be no photos. Dude was bummed.

I dropped out before the second semester started and got a job at an avocado farm with a homophobic moustache man.

Wang Tang Clan

I saw a guy with a number plate that said Paul 13

Also, imagine the guy that owns this piece of art.
He probably hates lions and uses it as evidence at family dinners when talking about hunting.
"You need to shoot big cats and sharks. You don't believe me do you Bella? Have a look at this (points to picture). They'll rape ya! Those bloody lions will jump your bones given half a chance. Give em the slightest sniff and they'll be all over you like those yanky sailors on day release in Fremantle. Look, do you want your son to be bought up as a lion? Going to one of them plains schools? Look at the picture Bella. Look at that! He's not a skinny man- got a build on him, and he's; this big strong man here, he's being rogered to sunday by Simba! We gotta do sumfink! They'll be committing rapes all over the place. It'll be like Port Adelaide! "

I just watched Fully Flared twice.

One World

One Sun

Green Room

I'm raw, roughage raw.

Jazz Master Mellon: Mustard Mountain

I've been untouchable for the last four days. Nothing phases me. I'm in an inpenetrable bubble full of ego gas and love buzz. For on thursday night my friends, I tasted the syrupy amber of success. I, along with four other degenerates, managed to win a quiz night at a local cocktail serving establishment. I know you're thinking that the other teams must have been composed of equal parts seat sniffer and remedial english participants but they weren't. I saw at least two using knives and forks and one guy even had a suit on - if that's not worthy opposition I don't know what is.

There was one guy with a pretentious hat and a laptop who spent the whole night video-chatting with some tool in America. "Haha! Oh yes. There's a question about movies. I love movies. I've got a leather jacket and a pretentious hat. Tell me your sniffing a lot of good seat in Wisconsin." Beating him boosted my already unnaturally large and unwarranted smugness to a level somewhere between spa farter and engineering student.

We won $100 worth of Little Creatures dollars. Each team member got a $20 voucher. I'm never cashing mine. I'm going to keep it in my wallet. I'm sure if I turn up at the airport tomorrow and try and board the next flight to Paris sans ticket and le passporto they'll wave me through to first class on first glance of my winning checque. I'm not going to stop at red lights or zebra crossings either- no bloody way. I'm putting the pedal to the metal and will fly through at 50kms an hour. Cops don't hassle bad mofos with paper qualifications. I'm basically a doctor. A doctor of quizzes.

Man, I am a tosser.


But a wealthy one. That's 20 Australian dollars by the way. Yeah the old green backs, the old Francs. I got them. 20 bucks. What a day, what a day.

Super Emo Lonesome Friday Night

More of Me, Less TV part Deux

More of me.

TEEN JIZZ WIZARD JAZZ MASTER 12

Look at my cool new sunglasses. I'm the Henri Matisse of bifocals except I'm not wheel chair bound and can't speak Franch. These are shit for driving. Millions of dead cops.

I think I know where Elvis lives.

In the desert. Or actually in a hotel in Manjimup. One of those.

Science. I'm doing it. Science.

Swine Flu Code

I'm listening to Mudhoney. And Cass McCombs. He's got the croons, he's got the honey.