The Aboundment

Thank fuck we don't have middens*

2006-09-26T16:42:00.000+10:00

Yep. Thank fuck.

Cos my midden would confuse the fuck out of latter year archaeologists:

Latter Year Archaeologist 1 Ooh. Look at this. He was a vegetarian.

Latter Year Archaeologist 2 No he wasn't - I've got the entire skeletons of three completely different animals here and the formation suggests that they were disposed of in a 6.75 hour period.

LYA1: No way.

LYA2: Yes way. It looks like he was a great hunter too - some of these things come from all over the world. Didn't drink that much though, judging by the 16 cases of this wine staff that seem to be around

LYA1: But the formation suggests...

LYA2: Ah yes. 6.75 hours.

Yeah. Me. Busy as fuck. Given that I lose weight when I work like this and I exercise to balance out the stress, I can EAT WHATEVER I WANT.

ALL.

THE.

TIME.

This is a massive change in comparison to normal as I can also DRINK WHATEVER I WANT ALL THE TIME and not get hangovers. Someone has to soak up the wine glut and keep all those French vignerons in business.

Unfortunately I'm also knackered. As La Pirata suggested I may be intermittently dead. Cereally. It could well be true: I slept through a fire alarm and a building evacuation last night. Wasn't the vino either. None left there.

Fun. Fun. Fun. Funnity fun.

Backdoor listings are fun. Bookshops putting Douglas Coupland in the self help section as he's used 'Nostradamus' in the title is fun.

Diving into a swarm of cuntingly devious irukandji camouflaged by wave froth is not fun.

Feeding the water dragon’s fresh from their wintry nap is fun.

So, all in all it's work now, fun soon. Suggestions possibly accepted.

* For the nuff-nuffs with no vocab.

Once was written

2006-09-06T09:29:00.000+10:00

Steve I gotta say Thank You,
For all you've done for me.
The nights are dark and lonley,
When you're not on TV.

Except that was written about a real TV show with helicopters and guns and lots and lots of lei action and I'm referring to

So, everyone praying for the apparently annointed Steve Irwin, fuck off, leave his family alone and go back to thinking he's a twat as you did on Sunday.

Yeah. I'm well alive.

Working

2006-08-14T15:11:00.000+10:00

So tell me what you're doin.

Another parallel

2006-07-17T08:27:00.000+10:00

I walked through the streets full of fiveoclock Madrid seething with twilight in shivered cubes of aguardiente redwine gaslamp-green sunset pink tileochre eyes lips red cheeks brown pillar of the throat climbed on the night train at the Norte station without knowing why

I’m so tired of violets
Take them all away

the shattered iridescent bellglass the carefully copied busts the architectural details of the grammar of styles

Now this is a weird one.

I’ve been well aware of an author for a while, but haven’t felt ready.

Queue weeks of madness driving weekends of exhaustion and suddenly the time was right.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Dos Passos.

Apart from that, I’ve been roped into having input on cultural policy. Sure, I know my yakult from my tzatziki, but what the fuck do I know about creativity. Ten or more years in commercially creative environments (read as: dealing with complete fuckwits with absolutely no clue who feel their best input can be given via negating the majority of proposals in front of them) has jaded me, for I can’t see the point in dolling out funding to potential artists.

Infrastructure, to support and encourage development, of anything - winner.

Funding that reinvents existing wheels and supports services available more cost effectively, efficiently and with better return to the wider community - Fuck. Off.

Protectionist policy has never worked outside a vacuum - so why on earth would it work for potential artists. Why would it work for potential businesses. Get out there. Create your thing. Make your piece. Fuck it up entirely but learn as you’re doing any of them.

But that’s me. What’s yours though - can creativity be created?

I'm worth a million in prizes

2006-06-30T07:56:00.000+10:00

Fact.

Fun has been had, worlds conquered, sods turned, pages flipped, books closed, milk spilt, views espoused, calculation, miscalculation and recalcumalations made. Flutters are paying off.

I’m off to gets me a GTO.

Reasons even I think I'm crazy

2006-06-23T11:56:00.000+10:00

also entitled Sit back and enjoy the soothing strains of TISM.

1 I enjoyed my annual review
3 Visibility dropped to 50m today, cars stopped to wait out the deluge, runoff was all over the place AND STILL I CACKLED GLEEFULLY AS I SLID AROUND ON THE WAY TO WORK, arriving 137.4% soaked.
4 The next three months are going to be hell and I can.not.wait.
1 I got everything I requested.

Talk amongst yerselves for a bit, I'll be back.

What I did with my time away

2006-06-12T12:44:00.000+10:00

So, the gangrene set in after another sub 26 degree day, inching its way along first one then another finger, gouging life from thumb and toe alike. Nothing worked: single malt, salt water - those wigglies were gone.

After weeks of physiotherapy I'm now able type two letters a minute thanks to one of those suction cup darts stuck to my forehead. I could type faster but it builds up a bit of a sweat and the dart falls off.

This apology for my silence has taken three hours and fifty one minutes but I did it all myself.

Freezered

2006-05-25T08:30:00.000+10:00

Sometimes, just sometimes, I doubt my sanity.

Achieving an ice-cream headache at around 83km at 7am was one of those times, as, despite being Queensland, IT'S FUCKING COLD.

So was Melbourne according to the three frostbitten toes I left behind. Food rocked however and it's always a pleasure to see fashion go behind metallic Havianas.

Thought wise I'm still noodling around with Happiness though overall it comes down to quail. I. Really. Want. Some.

For brekky.

Theeeeeeeeeerkklunk.Owwwwwwwwww.

2006-05-17T15:18:00.000+10:00

What the fuck.

What. Who. Who put this here?

Ouch.

Ah.

I did. Then snuffed the lights, thus tripping over this misshapen thing.

No exhaustive self analysis or misadventures from me, and I haven't even fucked any goats of late. I have however been flat fucking chat: Brisbane yesterday, Adelaide last week, Melbourne & Sydney next. When the hosties let go of me I even got the time for some of THE BEST COOKING AND EATING EVAAAAH but I can't be fucked telling you about it and I've no dreams I'm allowed to report.

Of questions though, I've a few, this is first: what triggers those moments for you in which you realise you're happy?

Barely enough space in which to squeeze a post

2006-05-08T18:01:00.000+10:00

as too much already in my head.

What do you want?

Umm, yeah

2006-04-26T09:57:00.000+10:00

It's all about work, which I'm not going to tell you about and food, which I will.

Anzac Day holiday of course, with Rosmarinus officinalis being the herb of rememberance (note to slatterns: and fidelity between lovers too) I realised it would be unozshtrayan/irish/english/scottish/welsh to not roast some baby sheep and taters.

So, after smothering it in Rosemary, garlic and salt, I roasted a leg of lamb. Then everyone piked it and two of us scofffed the lot.

Otherwise, I've been thinking a lot about words and the power thereof.

Discussion of the same over the weekend made me wonder if Teh Big Ugly Tobacco companies haven't been deliberately funding some lexigraphical injections: we get fit if unfit, we regain our health after an illness - all positive transitions. Yet, when desisting from summin as incomprehensible as smoking, we give it up. Giving up in every sense I can think of is a negative transition, as is quit. You don't give up smack, you get off it. You don't give up fat if you're a hefty bugger, you get fit. Thoughts welcome.

Otherwise, tis all about movies a. Of late: Lost in La Mancha, Blowup, Stone and The Dark Crystal. La Mancha was the only first but well worth it if you're a) into teh movies, b) like Terry Gilliam, c) like Johnny Depp and/or d) like to wax quixotic or e) like all of the above and want to see chaos emerge from an English/Spanish/French/Italian crew shooting next to a Nato bombing range.

Tha's all folks.

Bhwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

2006-04-20T12:21:00.000+10:00

Russian scientists solve mystery of crop circles

My weekend as food

2006-04-18T14:27:00.000+10:00

Chicken, prawn and pork spring rolls with iceberg and nuoc maam, salt and pepper roasted quail, tamarind prawns, lemongrass chicken, 2004 Catalina Sounds Sauvingon blanc, 2004 Rochford Pinot Noir, Coconut icecream, spinach and fetta omelette, whiting fillets in tempura batter with sebago chips and dill tartare and a pint of Heineken followed by a couple of glasses of 2004 Tieffenbruner Pinot Grigio, some apple pie with macadamia crust and kingaroy double cream and a glass of 2003 Noble One.

That’s me from last night to 4.35pm Good Friday. So much for Lent, Christianity and Judaism.

Although I wouldnae have had the fish onwards if it wasn’t for the bottleshops being shut: 20% of the population attend a religious service, for many their only one of the year and I can’t have a drink for love or money unless I eat.

What is this, transubfuckinstansiation by proxy?

No idea myself, but I’d kill for another glass of Catalina.

Addendumdum
Also: Yum Cha Sunday morning, slow cooked Cacciatore Sunday night then, finally, on Monday eve, salt crusted red wine beef on parmesan roesti with mountains of honey roasted garlic pumpkin.

Yeah.

I hate food, as you can see.

What the fuck?

2006-04-13T12:11:00.000+10:00

Right, so I'm in my bed and apparently asleep when all of a sudden I'm back where I grew up and the world is about to end and there's chunks of fire falling from the sky and I and an old friend realise the fabric of society is beyond frayed and we must head north. To do so in a car would be madmaxedness as the freaks that are slightly ahead of us in realisations have already taken over the highways so we must commandeer a container ship and sail it North.

Do we choose to get to the docks in some safe, fireproof kind of way? No.

We get a tram.

Random protective violence and Melbournian landmarks throughout.

Then, much later in the evening and earlier in the morn, it's a way different kind of dream except for the ship. This time it's some biiiiiiiiiiiig cruiser and George Bush Jnr is on the boat except he looks like George Bush Snr. He falls off the boat whilst looking at the water and I save him, afterwards berating the members of the Australia swim team who didnt lift a finger to. The hotties they had been distracted chatting up leave them.

What. The. Fuck. Is going on in my head?

I think I had a fever.

The gold isn't in them hills

2006-04-10T09:46:00.000+10:00

Wasn’t hard for me to imagine making my fortune growing up. You could trace it back to a Biggles/Tintin/Tom Baker as the Docto crossover: Sunken Treasure – 20,000 Leagues, Red Rackhams Treasure; Rubber Baron/Ivory Hunter, – The Flight of the Condor; hot chicks – Leila. Friendship was K9/Snowy.

But fuck me if I wasn’t wrong for once – I should have been devouring cooking books.

The gold isn’t in the hills or the trees or the ground or those lurking ruins out the back, it’s in the fruit-shop: I bought a handful of Kafir lime leaves this morn’: $125 per kilo.

Leaves.

The fuck?

They’re freakin leaves. From a plant. They make peasanty soup things like Tom Yum taste good. I hadn’t taken out a loan, wasn’t dressed right and almost didn’t wear shoes and here I am buying something for private consumption that is so light that it doesn’t even register on the scales and it’s legal? There’s black truffles in the shop next door, nestled happily in little baths of oil cheaper than this shit..

What did I do?

I went home, made stock and cooked Tom Yum from scratch, even if I was tempted to see what racking up a big fat line of crushed Kafirs would feel like.

Busted

2006-04-05T17:25:00.000+10:00

As I've nothing you can have, you can tell me: what was your worst bust?

Was it the AFP on your way back from Bolivia? Your partners parents? Your new girlfriends menagerie bursting into the room at that critical moment? Cheating with a ruler so engraved that monks claimed it as incanabulae after the exam or just your hand stuck in the Quick tin and a chocolate stained mouth?

Spill. I'm busy.

Hear ye, hear ye, sign up one and all.

2006-03-24T11:39:00.000+10:00

Feeling wronged, vengeful, angered and bilious?

Well sign the fuck up.

Vengeance Inc is accepting submissions from interested parties. Board and Operations positions are available.

The Board will sanction actions, as required, to be carried out on an as needs basis.

These actions will remove the wrongdoers, vengeworthy, angerous speciae that make me wish we still had a feudal society. Though you can keep yer buboes.

To signup we need your (top secret) superhero name, your key talent and your initial target. Don't delay.

Trust me on this

2006-03-22T06:20:00.000+10:00

You would not believe it.

I know I don't.

You just wouldn't.

That's why you're gonna have to to trust me. It's been pretty weird and hopefully there's only about 30 hours left. As they say, you really don't know what kind of tea-bag you are until you're in hot water.

No perves, that was not a teabagging reference. Not unless teabagging involves psychoses, violence and togas.

The benfits of being antisocial

2006-03-17T18:08:00.000+10:00

8 million of em.

Roughly.

7.68 to be precise. Dollars. Annually.

As might have been deduced, I've been busy.

Over everyone except me, I gave m'self a leave pass last weekend, doing pretty much sweet fuck all. In my time. At my leisure.

Friday.

Saturday.

Sunday.

Monday morn was fresh and begging for it as I had TEH FEELIN the week was going to rock.

The Feeling was more accurate than Ron Jeremy and the results aren't even hairy!

Ilandedmorethaneightmillionbucksworthofbusinessinthreedays,
onetheaforementionedsevenpointsixeight.

Milky bars are on me.

You should be a copywriter

2006-03-15T07:57:00.000+10:00

"She was just a nice girl who fell off a cliff."

I think there's a little something in there for all of us, hmm?

Don't picnic on cliffs in wheelchairs

bloody hell - when are you going to put another post up ??

2006-03-14T19:45:00.000+10:00

When I've got something I want to post.

Sorry kiddoes, but I aint into circlejerks of appreciation - I write for me, when I feel like it.

Being all busy n shit means there's plenty of time for me, just not much for writing anything up to my standard level of drivel.

You'd shoot me if I ended up posting fillers all the time and I'm feeling a bit to energetic for a bullet, so fuck off and do something productive.

Unless you want another Spa party.

NB - points to Giggle for subtlety, thereby inspiring the title.

Book time 820.1

2006-03-12T10:59:00.000+10:00

But don't lie down on your rugs; this is one is about what not to read.

Books with '101 ways' & 'Dummies' in their title
Whether you're fat, unable to use a computer, can file fuck all under the Dewey system, are stony broke, really think understanding real-estate is going to help you, need to quit smoking, can't excite your lover, aren't a special dad, haven't had a lively transformation yet, can't hook up yer DVD, play a par 47 on the par 3, can't tell yer hyper from yer text markup, mix Mahler with Mozart, don't know how you got pregnant, still need to know how to use Windows 95, you're fucked. Especially if you read a book with Dummies in the title.

Luckily, down in the cavernous reaches of Dollop, IncTM we've been slaving away on a little tome that will be of service to those reading and not reading. It's very simple, easy to understand and only $39.95 plus P&H. Each volume has exactly 220 pages, each page lovingly inscribed with a single word. Page 1 begins with DIE, succeeded on Page 2 by NOW. Page 3 repeats this delicate balance, for emphasis, as does pages 4 through 412 (bit o marbling in the endpapers and hand a cut colophon makes up the rest).

Buy now, make me richer and fuckoff. Take your lapdog with you.

Anyone else you want me to target?

Seen any innocence lying around?

2006-03-09T08:00:00.000+10:00

It all feels normal, those nasty dreams just something that happened one night whilst you weren't awake, until you read the bumper sticker on the 4WD you're overtaking and it says:

FISTING COMES FIRST.

And it makes sense, not bothering you in the slightest.

NB - The sticker said Fishing. My feelthy noggin did the rest.

Well I never

2006-03-07T08:53:00.000+10:00

Ever read Frankenstein?

Story goes that it was a dream induced by the deliberate intake of cheese and wine, to upset the sleep and inspire morbid dreams.

Dunno about this, especially as living over a winebar gave me ample chance to experiment, but whatever the fuck I ingested last night, keep me away.

9ish Bed, to read.
10ish Lights out, sleepy bye byes.
1.40 Awake, having just had the weirdest sequence of dreams ever, replete with hallucinations, voices and all manner of freakiness.
1-4am Read.
4am Sleepy bye byes. Again. Recommence ultravivid hallucinations, including composing a reply to another blogger. My first blog dream. Worthy target at least.
5am Queue alarm. Feel like absolute shit, reset alarm for 6am.
6am Wake up surprisingly refreshed, finish book.

What the fuck? Who did this to me? I want answers.

Storms

2006-03-02T07:54:00.000+10:00

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!

I smell an Equinox.