Meme continued...

Carrying on with another installment in Maria's mammoth meme. There's already been a part one and a part two, and I still have't scratched the surface of the amount of questions really!

6) WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?

More beer.

7) WHO DO YOU MISS?

My sister.

8) IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU OR HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?

I believe my girlfriend is in love with me. I might have to check since that fart I dropped next to her on the lounge this morning...

9) WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU KISSED?

My girlfriend. In fact, apart from my niece, and occasionally my cat, she's been the only person I've kissed in a long time.

10) WHAT IS YOUR MIDDLE NAME?

Not even the tax department knows that one.

11) THE BEST TV SHOW EVER CREATED?

Bones. She's smart, awkward, incredibly gorgeous, and did I mention that combination of smart and incredibly gorgeous?

I kind of killed my enthusiasm for this one after watching DVDs of the entire series one episode after another over several nights and weekends. The writers have so much fun with that character - any chance to dress her up and put her into a weird situation and it happens. One episode has her running around dressed up as Wonder Woman, diverted from a dressup party and off to solve some crime or another.

Second is Masterchef Australia - purely because the judge Matt Preston is briliant. He is witty, sauve, a great food journalist and has an impeccable sense of style.

Here's a quote from an interview with him:

If you were having any three people, alive or dead, over for dinner, who would they be and what would you cook for them?

If I was working it would be:

Catherine de Medici, Jesus and my great (x8) grandmother whose hand-penned 1765 recipe book is one of my most treasured possessions. Together they could solve so many of the “big questions” that I have when it comes to food.

I’d cook them Balinese style roast suckling pig (obviously there’d be some Peking Duck, steamed barramundi or Sichuan style roast lamb belly for Jesus in case he felt more Jewish than Christian), Thai salads and stir fried Chinese noodles because it would be unlike anything they had tried before although great (x8) does have a recipe for oyster sauce and uses a lot of ginger and coriander seed.

If it was about having fun it would have to be:

Oliver Reed to drink with, Nico from the Velvet Underground to sing with and Sophia Loren to make pasta with. We‘d eat the pasta.

On that note, I'm off to watch an episode.

More Questions...

I'll carry on with a bit more of Maria's Meme. Maybe today I will get a bit further through the questions than last time.

2) WHAT IS ON THE WALLS OF YOUR BEDROOM?

There used to be a gorgeous huge painting by my girlfriend that smacked you in the eyes from the moment you walked in the door, but we moved it to the lounge area so that everyone could enjoy it. Now there's a hideous built-in wardrobe unit that smacks you in your bad-taste lobe and cries out for customisation.

3) WHAT DOES YOUR MOBILE PHONE LOOK LIKE?

Scratched, dinged up and not even a year old. It's had grease, sweat, dust, rain... and as a combination of the last three, mud caked on various parts in various combinations. I've learned the hard way that paying the extended insurance fee is well worth it.

4) WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?

Well. Fuck. There are too many genres to cover here, so...

not much Country
not much Opera

I am amused by Metal in it's various pompous forms. (Get over E minor, guys. And dropping your tuning by a semitone or a tone didn't really change your content. It just made those string bends easier, didn't it?)

Jazz has to err on the side of pop to really hold my attention - I mean, if a soloist wanders around for a good ten minutes and can't hint back at the tune at least once or twice I'm bored. I'm lost. I used to think that it meant I didn't have the mind to contemplate jazz properly. Now, I think that it's not so much me. If you wander off and don't link your solo to any good reference points, you're just waffling. You'd fail if it was an essay.

5) DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?

Easy. When the world stopped and everybody said Oh Fuck.

A Meme! Holy YAY!

A while a go Maria posted a mammoth meme that had to come out in a couple of parts. Now, I'm going to bust it up even further. Thirty questions? I haven't got the stamina to answer thirty questions
in one sitting? No way can I sqeeze out anywhere near that in one sitting, especially when for some answers I seem to be prone to a form of literary elephantosis.

So here we go. Maybe five a sitting? I'd say five a day, but that would mean giving up the snooze button time religiously. I can't commit to that with any certainty since the cold snap of the last week.

1) ONE OF YOUR SCARS. HOW DID YOU GET IT?

I have a scar on my head. It's this lumpy raised line that will never (as far as I know) go down. It feels funny when I scratch at it, which is often. The story...

I'd been seconded to do a quick pressure job for my absolute favourite of all superintendents, a gruff loud man by the name of Mick. He would grab you, march you to several points that he wanted cleaned up (that all look identical) and fuck off and leave you to it before you could even ask a question. If you cleaned the wrong area you got yelled at. He was a fantastic man who kept you on your toes by the minute.

Anyway, I found myself cleaning a few places in greasy crawlspaces on a time limit. Because there was nobody but me left after he dictated the job and fucked off, I took the rare liberty of taking my hardhat off while I crawled in and worked. I finished, crawled back out, and stood up too early - before the incline of the roof was actually high enough to stand up under. Consequently, I stood up under a set of grease injectors which have adjustment tabs and buried about a centimetre of one into my head.

Fuck that hurt I thought. Dickhead. I touched my head to feel if there was a bump and instead there was blood. Fuck. Fuckitty FUCK. First thing, I went for the bag of rags I'd been dragging around with me and plucked one out. I pressed it onto that patch on my head and then had a look. It came back red. Not just a little. A big, big patch of red.

It's okay I thought. Head wounds bleed far more than others. I'll go get a second opinion.

With that thought I made my move toward the exit out of the belly of the huge machine I was in, off to search for my supervisor at the time, and also my best mate. Cath'll look after it. She'll tell me I'm a dickhead and it's all fine. Head wounds just bleed a hell of alot, that's all..

So I'm on my way out around this big circular area, and who turns up? You guessed it. Mick. Fuck. He'll blow his brain at me. There he is, coming into my area of work, yelling out for me at the top of his lungs to see if the job is done. I leave the blood soaked rag on my head and whack my helmet over it to cover up the evidence. He checks my work, I breathe a releived thanks, Mick and hightail it the fuck out of there to find Cath.

Cath is having lunch in our work truck. I peel off my helmet and rag combination and tell her to look. She's a mother and a horserider. She's been there for all sorts of injuries. She pries my skull and pokes a bit before she turns to one of the other guys and says it's bad. Go get Mick. Oh, shame.

After that it was decided that I should go to the mine First Aid room. These guys rarely have any fun. They have to be there on call all day and all night, have all the training in the world, but really not much actually goes wrong. So when a case like mine comes in they pull out all the stops. I arrived with a rag on my head and walked out with a full under the chin and a few hundred times around bandage. They have remembered my face for the last few years (primarily, I think) because I made them take photos on my phone for me of just how ridiculous their over the top bandaging effort actually was. We laughed a lot despite the situation.

Next came the trip to Singleton hospital to get stitches. It's a reasonably large town, surrounded by industry and mining, with coal and money spewing out of every orifice. Yet this hospital reminds me of the one that was near the tiny little town I grew up in. It was small and pretty backward. The nurse unwrapped my ridiculously bandaged head. She poked around. She remarked that it would need stitches and disappeared for a while. When she came ambling back through the door she was holding a bit of paper, not the stainless steel bowl of accessories that I expected. There was no doctor following her. Oh, that's right. The doctor had already gone home for the day.

The piece of paper she gave me was a map to the nearest doctor's surgery. In there I spent a further several hours waiting (now in the company of my unpleasant boss) before a doctor pried open my already well clotted and dried wound. He put a stitch in and left me to it. The unpleasant boss stood by while I paid for the whole procedure.

Singleton Hospital? I mean, thank fuck a piece of machinery didn't fall on me. Thank fuck my hand wasn't severed. Who knows what the idea there would be? Here's a map to the nearest metal shop. They'll cut it off in the press for you.

2...

No way. I've written enough for today. That'll do.

More Meme Slackness (Deal With It)

"Here's the rules--mention the person that tagged you (did that). Complete the lists of 8's (see below). Tag 8 of your wonderful blogger friends (usually don't do this, but I will!). Go tell them you tagged them (if I have time)!"

Now we all know that this is Vic's World.

Vic says:
Fuck the rules.
This is Blogville after all.
In a world without boundaries, rules are somewhat irrelevant.

So I'm not tagging. If you want to be as pathetic as I am and do the meme, go ahead and steal it. I did. Go ahead. Trust me, it feels good.

8 Things I Am Looking Forward To:

1. More sunshine. I was driving along with my arm hanging out the window this morning, feeling right and summery. The tunes were good and the weather was fine. Now it's all up and pissed off in order to make way for a preview of winter.

2. Watching LittleTyke continue to grow and learn. Auntiedom... It's made me fall in love with a baby. LittleTyke is the best. She can do no wrong.

3. The invention and wide distribution of intravenous coffee.

4. Making fresh gourmet pizza. Who knows when, but every time I think of it my mouth waters.

5. Gardening. I don't have a veggie plot yet, but the ideas are germinating. Let's hope they hurry up and take root because I need to get some seeds for winter crops germinating, too.

6. Losing enough weight to be able to look in the mirror and not think ugh, for fuck's sake you have to lose some weight

7. Beer. Always.

8. The day after tomorrow.

8 Things I Did Yesterday:

1. Yet again scored a free ride on public transport. I love that my station has no ticket machine. I get to raise my middle finger to the authorities and also spend the money I would have spent on a ticket on something far more worthwhile, like sushi.

2. I walked into a local photography gallery. Not much of a surprise, really. But this one was holding an exhibition of works by local photographers who are members of the flickr community. I got out of my shell enough to strike up a conversation with the founder of the gallery about it. We had a really open, easy conversation in a setting where normally I would have feared intimidation. I think how easily the conversation came kind of took me by surprise and made me forget to be self-conscious. The outcome: the guy looked me up on flickr and told me that he liked my work. I'm pretty chuffed.

3. Sadly, I did not invent intravenous coffee.

4. Drank tea instead.

5. Cursed my manager many, many times. I try to make an appointment with his boss, and he gives me every excuse under the sun as to why I can't. I try to resolve issues with him instead, and he palms it off on to his boss, who he has made completely unreachable. Good stuff. Much appreciated.


6. Ate sushi.

7. Grinned like a fool for having eaten sushi.

8. Resolved to continue to lose more weight.


8 Things I Wish I Could Do:

1. I wish I could settle on a plan for a garden and just get to it. I spent hours today doing drawings and contemplating where the sun goes the most. I need to revert to a good gardener friend's method of "just stick it in and if it grows it grows". As Nike says, Just Do It.

2. For one week I wish I could actually have a penis. I would have so much fun being given a whole new body part. I'm bored with all the other bits.

3. I wish to invent intravenous coffee. It's a winner, for sure.

4. Wave a magic wand and make it spring. I wasted summer and now it's raining and cold. This signifies icy mornings, multiple layers of clothes, miserable drizzly short dark days and massive power bills. The only positive I see being offered up by winter is the prospect of snuggling up under more than one doona. In fact a mound of them.

5. Retire the poor old Fuji FinePix for a more superior model camera.

6. Dammit, but I wish I could play guitar and sing simultaneously. Occasionally it works out okay, but I could never get a gig doing it. What's weird is that I can play and sing a little on guitar, but give me bass and all ability to even speak while I'm playing just disappears.

7. I wish I could be travelling. Right now. Tomorrow. Every day.

8. I wish I could think of something else to write.


8 Shows I Watch:

Huh? I don't even own a television. I worm my way into other people's lives to watch hours of Bones and the occasional other crime type show.

Stupid, stupid question.

It's Vic's World, so let's change it.

8 albums I'm granting listening time to lately:

1. Jason Mraz - We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things
Okay, so it's a bit poppy/easy listening. But it's just appealing that way. The music is cruisey enough to flow right into your soul and make something move inside you with you even being consciously aware that it's going to happen. Worth a listen on a warm summer evening.

2. Dave Matthews Band - Everyday
I keep coming back to this album, even though I am really only rocked by roughly half of it. The rest is clever but doesn't stick me right to the core in the way that some of the more brilliant Dave Matthews efforts do.

3. Lily Allen - Alright, Still
She cracks me up. The music is tongue in cheek. The lyrics are sassy. I'm in love... but I think she'd slap me.

4. Lily Allen - It's Not Me, It's You
Latest album: Sadly, not as good as the first. There are still golden moments on this effort, just they're less in number than on the first album. In adolescent style, I've fixated on one track with a sweetly sung little chorus of Fuck you, fuck you very, very much. The plus is that I'm not the only one. It's now our work anthem.

5. Medeski, Martin and Wood - Note Bleu
A nice best of album that just keeps me coming back. Funky, interesting, sometimes completely weird. It's everything I like to be, with a little more confidence.

6. Counting Crows - August and Everything After
This is an old friend that I bring out like a well-worn pair of jeans. I can slip into it like a second skin and feel completely at home with every inch of it.

7. Panic at the Disco - Pretty. Odd.
Apart the fact that Nine in the Afternoon shits me to absolute tears, I've been pretty clinically fascinated with this album. There's a real Sgt. Pepper feel to it. I'm not happy with committing to liking it yet. I think it's more one of those things you have to stare at and poke for a while to work out what it is, but you cannot just walk away from and forget about. Eventually you figure it out and make the decision to go with well that was a complete waste of time or perhaps the opposite of hey, that's really cool. Judgement is pending.

8. Black Eyed Peas - Elephunk
This is great for just rocking out to when you come home from work. I tend to like funky sounds when I hit the shower, but not overly complex ones. This is perfect. I challenge anybody to listen to Let's Get Retarded and not be moving along with it. You're just not human if you don't.


8 People I Tag:

This is Vic's World, remember? Steal away. You know you want to.

Holy Shit it's a meme!

Run. Hide. Drool. Do whatever you do. I'm finaly excited enough to participate in a meme.

"Google your first name and the words: needs, wants, loves, hates, believes, wishes, sleeps, smells, eats, tastes, and realises."

Well, here goes.

I sifted through the first page of results and picked out the doosies each time.

Vic needs

SA doctors ready if Vic needs burns victims support
Well I know that I can be a fiery little bitch sometimes, but really you'll only get a minor scald if you get too close when I let loose. Nice to know I have a whole state on my side, though.

New canola variety just what Vic needs
Dead set? What for? Will it help me lose weight?

The Beast. Old Vic needs a home. No sissies.
This is from craigslist. I have to see more. CLICK.

"Take Vic home. Please.
...
I bought Vic to get through Winter (which we did) and now I want her gone. Love 'em and leave 'em I say."

Thank fuck that Vic turns out to be a car that David is sick of having sitting in his driveway collecting tree sap because I was getting a little worrie there.

Vic needs to find a new job
Yes, yes I do.

Vic needs coffee
Yes, yes I do.

Vic wants

Vic wants it all in one place
Well, not absolutely, but if I didn't have to go very far it would be perfect. Thanks for thinking of me.

VIC wants to see how you "Get Silly"! Show VIC how you "Get Silly"
And you can win a free smack in the head!!!

Vic loves

Vic loves Limp Bizkit
Um, sorry. No.

Vic loves Becks' '25 foot penis'
What the fuck? CLICK.

"It's huge. It's enormous. Massive."

Posh added: "If I looked like that I'd walk down the street in my panties too."

Victoria Beckham has a lot to answer for. And so does David Beckham, obviously.

Vic hates

Vic hates: Hangovers, having to work
Apparently Vic on Bebo and I have some things in common. Bebo is not one of them.

Victoria is not, and never has any ambitions to be, Sporty Spice. Like the majority of us, she hates the gym and is looking for the easy way out.
Yep. You said it.

Vic hates all sharks. This is a complete lie.
Yes. It is. Sharks are just going about living, and if present ourselves in their environment dressed as food, who can blame them for treating us like food?

Vic believes

Vic believes Barbie is the girl he wants to marry.
You're kidding? Marry a girl without any genitalia?
Fucking idiot.

Vic believes white sharks are killing whales and should not be a protected species
Ah, CORRECTION. That should actually read "Vic believes the Japanese are killing whales and should not be a protected species."
Much better.

Vic wishes

Vic wishes to raise with the inquiry the issue of “R” classifications for electronic games
Actually, I couldn't give much of a shit.

Vic wishes to record its disappointment and concern at the proposed reform
Well, I'm not an it. But I truly am disappointed and concerned that our government's attempt at economic reform consists of giving out our own tax money as a "gift" that appears to not even meet the requirements of our own constitution. We would do better with the country being run by a bunch of trained monkeys. And they could fling poo at our rivals.

Vic sleeps

vic sleeps about 19 hours a day and gets up only for meals
Sometimes I wish that were true. It's pretty much the opposite.

Vic sleeps naked to feel David’s skin
Oh, Posh. Are you sure that 25 foot penis doesn't get in the way?


Vic smells

A lot of people didn’t think it was possible for Vic to get his comeuppance
Including Vic.
Vic smelt a trap, apparently.

"You smell like Vic.", He made a face. "Or Vic smells like me."
well, if we all wear Rexona Men's deodorant and smoke, that's possible.

Vic smells the freedom of anarchy once more
Always. It's in the air down here.

Vic eats

Vic eats filth for breakfast
Hey!
There's no need to be like that!
Typically I don't eat anything for breakfast. Don't even think about piping up about balanced meals and all that shit. Coffee will do.

Vic eats!
... is the title of a picture of some asian man taking a great gobful of chicken into his mouth from a bone he is holding. Congratulations, bud. You look like an idiot. And a pig.

Vic tastes

Vic tastes a "Belgian". Vic is a great sport.
Vic tastes a belgian beer? When it comes to beer tasting, I will always be a great sport.
Bring it on!

Vic realises

Victoria realises that there will be parents who have more than one rider in the family
Yes. It's a revelation, really.
It will change my life one day, I'm sure.

Vic realises ambition but needs big plate of chips
Google, how did you know?

Stolen from Terroni

Where is your cell phone? Underneath my pillow. It functions as my alarm clock (with a couple of hits of the snooze button…)

Vehicle? Under a stand of trees, being neglected and shat on by galahs and magpies.

Hair? Sonic the Hedgehog revisited.

Father? Not a welcome part of my life any more.

Your favorite thing? Kisses, along the line of my neck near my collarbone. Particularly on the left side.

Dream last night? Pears, picking pears with sweat rolling into my eyes.

Favorite drink? Cold water in the hot sun.

Room you are in? Bulk accommodation on an orchard. The rooms are concrete cells with a door that has a solid lower half and mesh or the upper half. It’s like a stable without the straw.

Your ex? Which one? The scary anti-bi drag king? The verbally abusive drunk idiot? Or the boxassed homewrecking child of the devil?

You are? Bored. What do you do in the middle of nowhere in a stable cell in the rain?

What do you want to be in ten years? A human.

Who did you hang out with today? The person I talked to most was the slow-arse tractor driver – in an attempt to make friends so that he would look after me and make sure he moved my produce bin a little faster. Oh and the gang boss, because she likes me enough not to bother checking my work too closely.

What you're not? I’m not impressed with the rotting dead snake smell from the bins across the road from my stable room.

Muffins? It’s been a while, but alright.

One of your wish list items? A bedside table. Any sort of table.

Where is the ____? Bottle shop.

The last thing you did? Looked up weatherzone to see when the hell the rain was going to end.

What are you wearing? Bare feet and a jumper.

Your pet(s)? A couple of bull ants in the shower. They are there to greet me daily.

Your computer? Can’t live without it. I have a coathanger wireless connection – a complex little arrangement where I winch my wireless card into the air and jerk it a little higher every time the connection cuts out.

Your life? Expect nothing: Experience everything.

Your mood? Bored.

Missing? Being curled on my girl’s lounge, watching the must see DVDs with her beside me.

What are you thinking about right now? The flock of galahs I can see outside my stable door.

Your shoes? Caked in mud from the orchard. They were near new a week ago, but they’ll be stuffed in another month.

Your work? Hard, sweaty, lonely.

Your summer? 82% humidity, 34 degrees celcius. What do you reckon?

Your favorite color? It depends on the mood. I think I like most colours. Except peach. And stupid fluffy faffy washed out pastel pink. Oh and also light green.