a squid eating doe in a poly- ethalene bag is fast and bulbous. Got me?

its despairing to discover that you have run out of ammunition and that, whats more, your arsenal was already understocked with weaponry to begin with.

what more do i have to write about?

am i this unimaginative?

is my life this uneventful?

The answer is, of course, YES YOU FUCKWIT!! GIVE UP NOW!!!!

i shouldnt be so hard on my self.

i am interesting. bud luck. Ya boo sucks to me.

Lets see. MMMM. (Ponders, strokes beard)

Rollins: What a fuck- knuckle. intense though.

Kids are hot (J law, March 2005)... Aren't they?

if only there were a font to indicate irony, then i could go on to say with out fear of reprisal:

As are the elderly... and dogs. Dogs are definetly hot. CATS!!.... Chickens....

My parents just got two new chickens. they called them kath and kim. Sweet huh? , a little bit quirky.

once had a couple of cats called lenny and bruce and i knew an art dealer who called his two cats lucien freud. Get it? Luci-en-freud. he deals lucien freud. he wears kilts.

I have a kilt. In fact i have 2. wear 'em 'round the farm.

listening to:

guided by voices. always. That guy from the strokes chucks mixed tapes of gbv into the audience at his gigs, or used to. He loves them and thinks people should get to know them. they broke up a couple of years ago but they are a truely great band. Bob pollard is the singer and principle song writer. Hes in his late forties now but when gbv were around he was incredibly prolific, releasing two albums a year. when they played in australia last, everyone was expecting him to be this deep, artistic type guy but he just got drunk and chased girls around the town hall hotel in newtown. this was, of course, much to the chagrin of the sexless inner west indy elite and much to the delight of my friends. the sly old dog. but of course he would be like that. you cant expect some one that prolific to be precious.

captain beefheart:

" A squid- eating doe in a poly- ethalene bag is fast and bulbous. Got me?"

check out the album "trout mask replica". it will either alter your perception of reality (in a good way) or you will not respond to it at all and probably ditch the cd or ipod or whatever into the nearest bin in disgust. it is "difficult".

other wise " Clear spot" and " the spotlight kid" are more accesible.

oh and listen to Zappa.

or dont.

up to you.

the complete prose of woody allen? Any thoughts?

ok.

i think i proved my self right. ill come back when i have something interesting to say.

fuck im such a fuck.

shit.

where did all the icebergs go?

went to the supermarket.

wanted an iceberg lettuce.

no dice.

whats the caper?

coles too good for icebergs?

had to go to BILO.

damn

A far less pleasant shopping experience.

blue tac

i had a dream about blue tac.

in the dream blue tac was represented as grotesque. it is grotesque, at least in my experience.

when i was a teenager and i was really into putting posters on my wall i used to covet blue tac. i never bought it. i would steal it... from everywhere; from the posters on the walls at school, from the posters on the street, in record stores, from friends houses, community centres, notice boards... everywhere. i never took all of the blue tac. id always be careful just to take a bit from all four corners, so the poster would still be stuck to the wall, just with less adhesive power. I could justify this theft because people were always overly generous with their use of the stuff. there would always be far more tac than was necessary. Imagine my joy when someone stuck a poster of above average size to a wall in a low wind , underpopulated part of town, school corridor or university campus with massive balls of tac lining evey edge? "Eureka!" i would exclaim in my half broken adolescent tones.

from the little bits that i would take from everywhere i would form a conglomerate of blue tac.

invariably the combinations would always be grotesque in some way. this was because the blue tac would always be of varying age, quality, and cleanliness (being an adhesive blue tac would always attract dirt and grime and this would affect its colour and effectiveness). Moreover, there were also the poor imitations of blue tac, namely, yellow tac. I dont think it was called yellow tac but it was yellow and had a similar consistency. its quality was poorer though and, generally, it had less longevity. Needless to say this yellow stuff would find its way into these little "nations of adhesive" of mine. They were like multicultural nation states from which i would draw on to create my interior design. but i digress.

the point is my dream served to remind me of a time in my life when things were not only more grotesque but simpler. the acquisition of blue tac was the most important thing in my life because it served to define my space, my room, where i was most me, where i could have been anybody and where my heroes lined my wall and saw over my progress. they inspired me and they reassured me.

sometimes i wish that life was still that simple and grotesque..

psychodrama

what is there apart from the greatest indulgence?

i invite people into my life not because i am interested in them. no. i invite them in to be a part of my psychodrama. the film of my life as it is played out before my eyes.

i dont know why i bother.

i dont. i really dont.

why do i persist in wasting my time in this art form?

why waste my time on the net? blogging away my existence?

why waste time trying to get laid really well?

petty, pathetic people surround me. simple minded morons roam the earth, looking for things to do in order to give their fragile lives a purpose. really what is the point?

i am so lazy. I disgust my self. i disgust my friends. i disgust my parents. I cant look in the mirror without being overcome with a wave of nausea. i dont know why i bother. why?

al these questions.

My favourite band is mclusky.

their best line: " All of your friends are cunts/ your mother is a ball point pen theif/ michael cain doesnt follow you/ and you've never been to spain"

. i hate this job.

great film: Buffalo 66. check out vincent gallo's boots. never has such an annoying guy been more interesting on film.

ok.

tupperware

whats the deal with tupperware parties?

ive never been so i cant really comment

people actually read this shit?

fuck! i cant believe it!

some one actually read some of the shit that i wrote. im gunna have to watch wot i say from now on.

Thanks for welcoming me into the fold grant.

im sure youll get to touch some peeps at some point.

if not- try a blow up doll. i have and i thoroughly enjoyed it.

untitled, un

the world is amazing dont u think?

people are fucked and they are also great.

they are great in their fuckwittedness.

i have something to say but im not quite sure what it actually is yet.

i got on a bus and the bus driver looked at me and said through a toothy, almost "what me worry", grin:

" ive seen you on the TV".

I love that shit. ive never been on the t.v .it made my mucus ridden day worth while. another thing happened: I found out that my tv wasnt stolen, that was a coup. I was positive that someone had taken it from my old house. you see, alot of my personal effects are still there in my old house.

how come the girl that you really like doesnt like you and the girl you can take or leave does really like you?

read raymond carver.

modem life? still rubbish

i was shocked that in the hour or so between this post and me last that there were no comments made. come on people! lets get active. lets get posting. lets "get amongst it" as a girl i know always says in her deep resonant voice. shes one of those people who dont say things, they sing them.

now youz cunts dont know me from adam but i live in australia. we have a little thing here called australian idol. the winner was announced last night. some fat cunt called kate or some shit like this. now i reckon id give her one for practice even with those "tuck arms" but thats beside the point. the point is i really like the song that she sings. nuff said.

i just worked with a couple of people. lets call them "performers". they are generally regarded as very different people but they are cut of the same cloth. thay are the most incredibly selfish and unproffesional "performers" i have ever worked with and if i never see them again it will be too soon.

more soon.

modem life is rubbish

using the internet for these kinds of things makes cyberspace a cool place to be. truly. one need not know if you have the de- rigour cool hair cut or, indeed, the proper cut of pant. it doesnt matter if you read easton ellis and take his word as gospel; if you say things like "spare me" and drink at sheik-but -not- too- expensive watering holes. you are in the world of the faceless. so bring on the freaks. lets rock.

i have never before done anything like this. i read all these other guys blogs and was struck by the possibility of touching many people with my own personal diatribes and , whats more, having people actually read them! im bored actually.

so heres to you. lets see how long this lasts....