Friday, August 31, 2007

Falling apart at the seams

I'm short of breath. For the last few days I've been gasping periodically. Physical work is difficult.

I've been binge eating and then feeling as if I could vomit. I just eat, and eat more. I don't need it. I just think of it, and can't stop thinking of it. The thing is... that vomit feeling persists for days. My stomach is unsettled a lot of the time. And I'm putting on weight, which does not help me with being outgoing and active. A bad cycle to lead myself into.

My gums have been bleeding for weeks. It doesn't seem to have gotten any better even after instigating the three times daily mouthwash routine combined with a new, harder toothbrush. I spit red, and I mean bright red, every time.

I haven't been sleeping enough.

I haven't got enough sun or exercise for a long time. I haven't had the time or the energy.

So here's the temporary remedy for today. A swag (yes they exist outside of the song Waltzing Matilda) in the sun for a couple of hours. Until I have to teach. And then brave the four-day onslaught of my parents visiting, the gig that I have to be at to be supportive and the fifteen or so songs that I've given myself to learn.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Pigs on the Wing: A Week of Pink Floyd

The dates have been set: Pigs On the Wing: A Week of Pink Floyd will commence on September 17th and continue through until the 23rd. Steal the logo, display it proudly. All you have to do is relate your posts to Pink Floyd for that week. Whether you blog live from Pompeii or build your own blow-up pig is entirely up to you.

If you didn't care what happened to me,
And I didn't care for you,
We would zigzag our way through the boredom and pain,
Occasionally glancing up through the rain,
Wondering which of the buggers to blame
And watching for pigs on the wing.

- Pigs on the Wing 1, Pink Floyd.

Monday, August 27, 2007

The Monday Melee

I can't miss the Monday Melee, no matter how much I intended not to blog this week. It goes like this:

I know I've been away the last couple of days, but there's a story...

1. The Misanthropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Once upon a time, Blogger Vic was extremely tired of working hard, questioning her financial direction and still fuming about the fact that a government department [whom Vic owed money to, admittedly, but that was a technicality] decided to liberate her tax refund almost entirely without notifying her that they were going to do so...

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
... which left Blogger Vic needing some down time. What does she do? Tells all the students that she has last minute Veggie shop work for a special event and disappears for an early-mark on the weekend to an entirely different location...

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
...This Blogger Vic, she drove a long way... And she has one regret: that she cannot drive that way every day. Not necessarily to the same location, but experience the drive. She recalls Terroni once said "I drove into perspective." and she wishes for this truism to occur on a more regular basis...

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit and name it if you can.
...Blogger Vic, after landing on the kindness, love and hospitality of others for two blissful nights, moved on and met up with the Brass Band for the State Championships graded competition. This band is a community band and Blogger Vic feels proud to be part of the extended family that is developing more and more within it...

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
...and she knows the effort of preparing for these performances has raised her level of her playing considerably.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
Blogger Vic wishes for this story not to be crap, but knows that yes, indeed. This sory is crap. Spewed from an tired exhausted mind, but no excuses!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Quote of the Day


So many hot women in the world.


and I only have to hands.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

No trains until further notice.

Sometimes I feel like life has come to a standstill. A constant cycle of day after day with no forward motion.

Every day I have been surprised at the passing of time - Shit! Was that a week ago? Feels like two days ago! - and I'm disturbed that I am becoming trapped in drudgery. The daily routine is not comforting, it's depressing.

What really stops the forward motion? I'm still paying debts from years ago. It's my fault that they're there. But it sucks mouldy turdburgers to know that even though you're running yourself ragged you're still behind.

What I need is time off to lay in the sun and contemplate the next train out.

What I have is a cycle of days, no time for myself and nothing to currently show for it.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Do you need 237 reasons?

This morning I read an article about a study that found there were 237 reasons that people have sex.

Here's the first little snippet:

Many scientists assume people have sex for simple and straightforward reasons such as to experience sexual pleasure or to reproduce, but new research at The University of Texas at Austin reveals hundreds of varied and complex motivations that range from the spiritual to the vengeful.

After conducting one of the most comprehensive studies on why people have sex, psychology researchers David Buss and Cindy Meston uncovered 237 motivations, which appear in the August issue of Archives of Sexual Behavior.

People’s motivations ranged from the mundane (“I was bored”) to...

Well. A while back I did the 8 things meme. And my number eight thing that I revealed about myself is that when I get bored, I get horny*. It's just interesting that the first reason quoted in the article is the same.

*[And the disclaimer: Being bored is not my primary reason for sex. However it is the primary thing I choose to occupy my thoughts with when bored.]

Monday, August 20, 2007

Territorial Bitch Warning!

I have full rights to one room in the house. One room only that I pay for and cherish as mine. It is my space. A place where I constantly let the floordrobe get out of control even though I hate the sight of it. A place where I can put a little David Gray on the stereo and relax. A place where I can light candles and let the world fuck off for a while.

It is not often that I close the door to this room. One reason is that I share it with two cats who seem to get the shits whenever they are denied access. But I don't often feel the need to retreat from the rest of the house, hence either my door is open or I'm in the loungeroom anyway.

Twice I have defended my zone with harsh words and had my door slammed by a person other than myself. God help the perpetrator of the third (if ever) incident because under the skin of this relatively easy-going type is a vile and volcanic individual with little to no self-control when pushed over the edge.

The Monday Melee: Melee In Rhyme Day

It's another little twist to the Monday Melee, this time devised by fracas. Next week is the Movie Melee...

1. The Misanthropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
A blind agony
a hatred
All this pain entrenched in me
resolution unstated

I will be okay
it's only fear
Just,... it leads my mind into a melee
where answers, behaviours, are unclear

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Centrelink, the awful bastards!
Take your tax cheque before you see it!
A right and royal bunch of fucktards!
I like them not one little bit!

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Fingers of cold eating into the soul
No inclination to move
No inclination to create
No inclination to groove
this icy beautiful hole is taking a toll.

Unhealthy mind, body and thoughts
Need to be
Need to laugh
Need to see
without the sun it's a battle hard fought.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
I found him in a corner
This hidden gem guitar
I named him for her

Lavished care and attention on this love
I feel him purr against my chest
This instrument has opened up with my attention
From my heart I give it my best

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
You can't help but be a mover.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
Giggles and outright laughter
Tenderness and desire
More than a moment with her

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Raghead Meets the Scissors

...and terror struck.

Yesterday was a hard day.

It goes like this:

Earlier in the week I was asked if I could join the local orchestra percussion section - they were short a player. Great stuff. This means somebody has faith in me, but also that they were desperate for players. I should be jumping at the opportunity since the section leader plays for a top level orchestra. I could learn a lot from him. So I said yes. But talk about last minute! First rehearsal for me was yesterday. First performance was also yesterday.

I could have joined the orchestra at the beginning of the year, in fact I aimed to. This year was supposedly The Year of Being More Involved in Local Music. Ha. Enter the hazy filthy dark cloud of terror that is The Ex. The square-arsed turtle-necked pretentious homewrecking cunt that I one day said I would marry and meant it. The sight of her sends this irrational fear ripping through me and I end up like a small animal caught in the headlights. I've got absolutely nothing to say to her, yet I am a ball of locked up anger and frustration and hurt that cannot be expressed publicly. My mind starts screaming, caged, animal and outraged.

So there's a few things I avoid because she's in them. The orchestra is one of them. I give myself the luxury of avoiding her, even though a few people have pointed out to me that this behaviour on my behalf indicates that I have let her get to me. I guess it does, but I am far safer as an individual to avoid that confrontation and lead a life seperate from dealing with her personally - rather difficult to accomplish in a small town, but I've done fairly well so far.

So Vic turns up to the rehearsal yesterday, fully immersed in Fear Of The Unknown mode, with a less than healthy amount of Doubting My Own Ability thrown in, to find that not only do I have to perform in the same ensemble as the source of this fear and raw pain, but I have to stand directly behind her and see her arse crack for the entire time.

I get to the performance, a little nervous, but surrounded by friends beforehand so I was coping okay. Until I got out there. I started shaking. It was all I could do to stand up. My rational mind was telling me to calm down, breathe slowly. To centre myself and feel the floor supporting me as a constant. It was there going through all the techniques I've learned to deal with panic attacks and calming myself. You can do this, Vic. However that rational mind was speaking in a whisper and being drowned out by a screaming overwhelming litany of oh fuck why won't you stop shaking just keep counting good on you complete fuckup you miss a cymbal hit there you won't be able to make it through good on ya there she's going to judge you on this again the entire town is going to judge you on this...

Which is shit. Utter shit, and I know it. But it was terror overriding everything else.

I made it through. I missed some important bits but I'm able to joke about it, which is cool. I was the person in the cartoon that has one important cymbal crash, standing there with those two big fucking things in my hands, waiting, waiting, counting... and then I missed it anyway. The worst is that I knew exactly where I was up to on the page, I saw the symbol to go for it clear as day. But then it was past and I was standing there with a pair of cymbals in my hands, now totally useless and to anyone that was watching me, plainly obvious that I hadn't done what I was meant to do. I am laughing at that image, which means that I am okay with this experience.

But it was a hard day. The next one will be easier.

Quote of the Day

Gayman, as I undid his shoelaces and helped him to bed, drunk and having trouble walking for the past couple of hours...

A return of what has been done for me before...

Why do two of you need to help me?

It's only me, babe. Sleep well.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Looking for a view

The last few days have been days for contemplation.

This is a favourite spot to look at most of the town laid before me. I am all about perspective and shifting focus to provide more fascination to the everyday. But sometimes it helps just to sit and look and contemplate life.

I cannot change the past. I am product of it.

Even if I don't know the full story of the past it should not matter because it is gone.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Tagged by Taz

Outback Aussie blogger Taz of dykalicious has tagged me for the five things meme. Since I'm lazy and non-conformist, it gets changed for the purposes of this blog.

The new rules:
Five words only per question.

What were you doing ten years ago?
Living at a boarding school.

What were you doing one year ago?
Not appreciating the single life.

Five snacks you enjoy:
Give me that antipasto platter.

Five songs you know the lyrics to:
I know more than five.

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
Obtain material things I desire.

Five bad habits you have:
Indulgence in some excessive ways.

Five things you like to do:
Love, create, give, be tender.

Five things you would never wear again:
Anything I have thrown out.

Five favourite toys:
I have more than five....

Five things you hate to do:
Recieve any form of bill.

Tag five more bloggers:
Only housemates...

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Gayman vs. Lemon Tree

The lemon tree out the front... It was ugly. It was dangerous. It was never going to fruit. It had spikes on it that are a prime example of what I think of as "Nature Says fuck off".

Gayman was drunk. With a pair of secateurs. And a shovel.

It was a late night battle fought in relative drunken secrecy so that the other neighbors in the strata didn't catch him. I walked outside after being shown the trophy portion - now displayed triumphantly on top of the stereo - to find a waist high trunk and a litter of debris across the lawn. With the aid of trusty Vic, also drinking at the time, the final battle was won. It was a death struggle involving Gayman determinedly pitching his shovel about the base with Vic hauling all her weight against it. The final death thrust came with Gayman standing on the bent and battered remnant of the tree that was.

Unfortunately the secret war has not gone undetected. The neighbours have noticed the absence of the tree they drive past every day. Somebody has checked our green waste bin. It is only a matter of time until the inquest from the high authourity of the real estate agency begins.

Monday, August 13, 2007

The Monday Melee

Welcome to yet another Monday Melee. Translation: yet another weekend dead and buried.

1. The Misanthropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Line Trimmers aka Whipper Snippers. The sound they make grates right through me. I suck at using them. There's a man using one outside the loungeroom right this moment and it makes me want to scream.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
It is no longer cheap telephone rates for long distance on Sunday nights. It hasn't been for years. My family can call me any time they please and it's pot luck whether I'm home or not. So why in hell do they call on Sunday night still? I have one aunt, two cousins, my parents and my sister in this country. That's it. I got spared the cousins last night but that was it. It turns my night of watching trash tv into one long session of family blah which really could be better dealt with if it was spaced out evenly across the week. Grab a timetable guys.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Noisy clocks. I love analogue clocks, but the one in the loungeroom is so loud that it acts like a metronome for my time spent on the couch. I find myself tapping to it, making up rhythms. But it means you can only really go at one of two paces - 60 beats a minute or 120 beats a minute. That's pretty damn restrictive.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
The entire brass band for turning up to a Sunday rehearsal. It's great that a D-Grade community band with members of all ages and all walks of life can come together and give up their weekend time for a common goal.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I will do anything for the people I care for. Not only that, but it makes me happy knowing I am that type of person.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

People can be gold

My housemates snuck into my room in all my passed out glory (they didn't know I was naked under the covers - it might have made a difference) and gave me something to alleviate my foul mood. They give me faith in the beauty of humanity.

Thanks, CruiseyDyke and Gayman. I love you to pieces.

Some tunes for a Sunday

I could write about Grandma Nobby's Excess Baggage Theory or finally choose a date for the Pigs on the Wing: A Week of Pink Floyd project. But I have a hangover, and a beanbag, and the sun. Like a cat I am curled up in a patch of sunlight and I'm periodically moving to follow it across the loungeroom floor. With my computer in my lap I'm listening to tunes and playing guitar. Here is a random sampling, with reasons just because I can.

1. Corner of the Earth - Jamiroquai
Such a dramatic intro for such a loungey tune. I love it. The song is like me in many ways.

[SKIP] Touch and Go - The Cars
[SKIP] Numb - U2

2. Don't Walk Away - Toni Childs
It's sad, I know. But this is one of those songs that brings out the Groover in me. The happy Vic that just can't help but move even if it's just the top half of me from a beanbag on the loungeroom floor.

[SKIP] Hate this Place - Goo Goo Dolls (hit the high notes, dammit)
[SKIP] Hard to Concentrate - Red Hot Chili Peppers (cool bass riff until the vocals doubled it)

3. Slow Cheetah - Red Hot Chili Peppers
I especially like the outro to this song - and extended fadeout. Basically I haven't listened to the words much but I like the guitar. I get caught up in that and forget to listen for meaning.

[SKIP] Diamond Dogs - Beck from the Moulin Rouge Soundtrack (I love the music in this one and absolutely detest the vocals. So it gets a listen until I hear the voice, and then it gets the arse. NEXT!)

4. Dilate - Ani Difranco
How low can you tune your guitar? It doesn't matter to me that there is that kind of out of tune thing going on. It's raw. This is a singer I do listen to the words of. I care less and less what people think... What a great line. I'm not a fan of the soprano sax outro for this one, though.

5. Touch the Fire - Icehouse
Oh the young days. I almost skipped this one. Now I'm in the chorus, a dumb grin on my face, air drumming, and I'm so glad I didn't hit the next button. Even through the gratuitous crappy saxophone solo.

[SKIP] Rain on the Scarecrow - John Cougar Mellencamp (too boring for today, sorry. NEXT!)

6. I Don't Live Today - Kenny Wayne Shepherd Band
Ahh, gotta love it. A guitarist similar to Stevie Ray Vaughan covering a Hendrix tune. It's such a shame to... spend your time away like this... existing... Fantastic psychedelic stuff going on here.

[SKIP] Time After Time - (covered by) Rob Thomas (I love different versions of songs, but this one is terrible)
[SKIP] I am the Walrus - The Beatles (Just not today, okay? I mean, "Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the band to come" is a little too much psychedelia for my hung over head)
[SKIP] Don't Speak - No Doubt (even though I can't get enough of the cheesey classical guitar solo)

7. Paradise City - (covered by) Richard Cheese
This guy is gold. He does lounge covers of basically anything. He takes requests on his website. I truly am a covers nut, and this is a really thoughtful and comic arrangement.

[SKIP] Wedding Cake Island - Midnight Oil (Definately not in a tacky surf guitar mood here)
[SKIP] Young Modern Station - Silverchair (too heavy for a day in the sun)

8. At the End of the Day - from Les Miserables
What a great musical. It's one of my all-time favourites. This piece in particular covers so many emotional aspects with a few melodic sections. Fantastic.

9. Pink Panther - (version by) The Skatalites
Another great version, along with all the punk covers that were floating around a few years back.

[SKIP] Staying Alive - The Bee Gees (I've played this too many time to count in covers bands and I spend the entire second half of the song waiting for it to end. NEXT!)
[SKIP] Nobody's Perfect - Madonna (Whoever invented that vocal effect processor thing should be shot.)

10. Pineapple Head - Crowded House
What a fantastic melodic bass line and catchy guitar riff. This is one of those songs that leaves me feeling uplifted. Even though I have no idea of what the words are supposed to mean.

Some days iTunes is my friend and spits out exactly what I didn't know I needed to hear. Not today. But the sun is nice.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

InDruBloDa: A work in progress

Beer. Oh yum. The start of this particular event is brought to you by Hammer 'n' Tongs Draught. Strangely appropriate.

I just drove the new bomb car, named Myrtle by the flatmates, the entire three blocks (damn life is hard) to the supermarket for cigarettes. I couldn't face a night like this on empty when it comes to smoking. Health problems be damned, I'm killing brain cells here.

So. Three blocks. And I have a flat tyre. The day just gets better. Let's drink to that.

And onto the second. Don't worry, there won't be a drink by drink description here, I'm just not sure what the hell to write about yet.

I love to drink my beer from the bottle. Stubbies, we call them. Unless they're the 250mL variety, in which case it is called a Throwdown. Thoe things (throwdowns) are dangerous. The carton price is so cheap and deceptive... I can chew my way through most of a carton without noticing.

I drink from the bottle, but I don't like to get my hands cold. Enter with fanfare:

The Stubby Cooler.

Dual purpose insulation. Beer stays cold, hands stay warm. I prefer a stubby cooler with a bottom on it, or the zip-up variety, mainly because I like the odd boutique beer and they tend to [for stupid boutique reasons] come in a smaller, thinner bottle that just doesn't fit the standard cooler. Go figure. Bastards.

In my search for pictures of stubby coolers for the last time segment I came up with this. All I did was a Google Image search and there it was.

For those who can't be bothered linking, (it's so worth it) it is a story about a UPS guy who gets a blowjob while driving and crashes his car. It's gold.
The gap between the steering wheel and Kevin's gut was making movement difficult though, for both of them. Kevin's face puckered into a thousand-hamburger-grimace-of-regret as he pushed himself back harder into the seat...

What a cool author. I'm off to

And a linkfest brings me to Chnlove. A site that matches you with Chinese women to marry. I kid you not. I'm floored. If you meet your perfect match, you can fly to China and marry her. So the question posed by housemate CruiseyDyke is this:

Do they come with Ping Pong balls? Or do you have to supply your own?

Like a typical drinking household, we've ordered pizza. I'm still undecided about going out for a bit.

Household gems:

CruiseyDyke: Ive decided... I'm freezing my cunt off.
Gayman: Try this. Rub both hands together. And then put them there.
Cruisey: Show me?

Don't try this at home, children.

Some down, many to go.

My good friend that was going to drag me out on the town has not showed. So I'm not going. Neither has the pizza. And that has me pissed off.

I've attacked tonight with a vengeance. Some will know why. Others will know I'm drinking because it's Saturday night. Both reasons work.

It's time for a meme of sorts. Last time I did NaDruBloDa I was living alone and had to search out memes to do for my post. Now I have flatmates so they can ask the questions.


Gaymanm asks: Are you gay?
No brainer. Umm. Yes? Does it count that I am completely attracted to a bisexual?

CruiseyDyke: How awesome am I?
And she answered herself here. I'll tell you how great I am. I am the greatest thing since sliced fucking bread. That's how great I am.

I came home last night, weekend plans shot to shit and I didn't have a clue what to do. It's... like I had an idea and when it didn't work out the energy just wasn't there. I came home at... I don't know... around eight o'clock in the evening and I literally passed out on my own bed. Fully clothed. The wrong side. Everything.

I woke up somewhere in the middle of the night knowing that I was freezing. I had to undo my Docs shoelaces and it was SO hard. I knew I was on top of the covers. But how to fix that? It was well beyond me.

I'm sorry, Drunk Blogging world. I can't do this much longer today. I will hold another, unofficial day of my own (actually, probably many) later but my head is un/officially fucked.


Fuck you, world. I'm Staying Home.

I phoned my occasional coffee buddy. She's at work.

I phoned my occasional golf buddies. They appear to be away or still asleep.

I did have plans to be sitting in a mate's B-Double truck carting chook feed right about now, spending time and being excited about how high off the ground I was, but those plans didn't work out.

As for the housemates, CruiseyDyke is at work, Gayman is asleep probably until late afternoon and IcePick has been so sporadic as a weekend housemate recently that I fear he's moved out without letting us know.

I could walk to town. I could drive the new bomb car somewhere random. I could go and poke sticks through the cage bars at the people doing a battery hen protest in the main street.

But instead... FUCK YOU, WORLD. I'm staying home.

I will read about you from the comfort of a beanbag in the sun on my loungeroom floor. I will drink coffee all day and play guitar. And if the entire day passes without me leaving the house... I will be a happy non-gender-specific individual.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Quote of the Day

... knew a guitar when he saw one. They were supposed to be shaped like a woman, but this was only the case if you thought women had no legs, a long neck and too many ears.

- Terry Pratchett, Soul Music

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Meet the family: Jerome

Jerome is the cedar Tanglewood I bought a while back and teased Dive about...

Happy Birthday, Dive.

Monday, August 6, 2007

Milk Crates. Can I Get Any Taller?

For a while my bed base was entirley milk crates. They're solid and once you slap a mattress on top they don't go anywhere, even on a wooden floor. I know. I've tested the system fairly thouroughly and they're foolproof. They don't creak, they don't slip.

They were handy when I moved house. I just lifted off the mattress and shoved a bunch of stuff in the crates. Bed = storage. It was great.

I've used them for band gear for years. They're the best lead storage solution, and often end up supporting a mixing desk as well.

I'm a short little tyke, so they're also handy for reaching hard to get places. Like my cupboard shelves. It's become a joke for the other housemates, and now my workmates, to offer me a milk crate if it even looks like I might not reach something. I once had to build a ladder out of them, pyramid style, to get into my ceiling when something died in it.

Since I bought a new bed frame, we've had a bit of an excess (somewhere around twenty-five) and they've started to infiltrate everyday life. The entire House that Gay Built has adopted the humble milk crate as their washing basket system. Until the weekend just gone, I had a funky multicolour milk crate shelving unit in my studio. Cruisey had one as a bedside table. Our entertainment unit was a pallet on a pair of milk crates. A cheap furniture shopping binge cured us of these ailments and we are overloaded once again.

So what happens when too many people joke about Vic needing a milk crate to reach something?

That's my loungeroom. And me. Up against the fucking ceiling.

Monday Melee: Say It With Lyrics

Today is Monday Melee: Say It With Lyrics day - my own variation on the fracas Monday Melee.

1. The Misanthropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.
All you fear, is fear itself
Check our your own back yard before you check out someone else

- Hercules, Aaron Neville. My Greatest Gift

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Well I'm here to tell you babe
The game you're in is just a game
So damn pretentious

- So Beautiful, Pete Murray, Feeler

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Is she your new best friend?
One day it will end, you know it will

- Sarah, Eskimo Joe. Black Fingernails, Red Wine

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
Just a kiss on the lips
And I was on my knees
I'm waiting give me

- Cold Hard Bitch, Jet. Get Born

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I don’t think that kindness is a weakness,
I don’t have a problem with compassion

- Consideration, Reef. Glow

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
When we seek and hide
When my hands are tied
69 positions and
whip cream all over my skin
lick you from bottom to root
love to get down with you
I am a sex-o-matic venus freak when I'm with you
And I will stop it only when you tell me to
I am the automatic easy freak all over you
And I will stop it only when you tell me to.

- Sex-O-Matic Venus Freak, Macy Gray, How Life Is

Saturday, August 4, 2007


Never push your flatmate in a trolley for three blocks and then let it go at the top of a hill.
I feel so bad.
It was like slow motion.

She was thrown from this shopping trolley at full speed and landed in a gutter. Two doors from our driveway. I'm not going to live this one down.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Half-Nekkid Thursday #2

Old emails

I looked through my sent items box. Here is a gem I didn't remember saying at all:

Test email to an extremely computer illiterate friend after setting up a hotmail account for him...

From: Vic
Subject: Hey Fucknut

If you get this your email works.

Have a free penis enlargement. And some Viagra. And a University degree.


This is as small as my fingernail. If that patch of sunlight had not illuminated it, if I happened to look where I was placing my feet and not in that particular direction, I would have missed it. It would never have existed in my memory or on my hard drive. Or on this blog. If it hadn't rained for the previous two nights, it would not have existed.

I love to look at things on this tiny level. It's kind of a mirror to my life. I'm macrocosmically apathetic and microcosmically highly emotive.