Reformation of The Groover

I have my own place now. For approximately the last year I’ve lived in a fairly reasonable situation in a granny flat titled Pixieland. I’m glad to get out of there, though. The name Pixie is a sour reminder of a sexual happiness I’ll never get to access again and living under a roof with that title constantly brought it home to me. It was like driving a car with a muffler leak. The carbon monoxide will make you feel tired but you won’t realise why. It’s my own fault that I have not taken this step earlier, completely.

Now I have a far larger place of my own. It’s eight in the morning and there’s sun spilling across my entire living area. The kitchen is filled with marble and stainless steel sexiness. I actually have a built-in closet that almost fits all my clothes. Once again I have a room to set up as a studio for music, editing and photography. Life is looking up.

On the list to aid in the reformation of the Groover of previous times:
- more bizarre kitchen adventures
- random road trips
- MAILBOXES!!!
- far more adventures in learning weird and wonderful things

Come along if you dare, but I’m going anyway.

Rearing Up My Ugly Head

I'm back. Same old Vic, farts and all.

Expect drivel, pictures, music, more drivel and the occasional illustration.

Continue at your own risk.

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?

Wonders of Technology

Technology amazes me constantly.

For example:

I am currently connected to the internet, on a laptop with no cables attached to it. No biggie, that sort of thing has been around for quite a while. Sure. But how cool is it that you can blog while you're taking a shit?!!

Bored, Broke

Over to the world in general:

When you're bored and broke, what do you do with your time?

Insight would be much appreciated.

What Is It Called? Revisited

Just over a week ago I posted a challenge of sorts. Guess the name of the machine correctly, or make me laugh enough with your guess, and you can have a prize. As a recap of sorts, this is the bucket that it lifts and loads dirt into waiting dump trucks with.



There were a few answers. All are worthy of mention, so here goes...

Ms. Avarice thought it was a giant dump truck. This thing loads into the rear dump trucks, and is pretty stationary comparatively. A rear dumper will drive off with a load somewhere, back up and dump it off an edge before driving away for the next load. This machine is the step before that happens. Nice try, though.

Jude says It must be called "the big fuckin dipper" or maybe "the big fuckin bucket" or how about just "the big fucker". The dipper is the reference more for the bucket pictured above, and the two "sticks" that it operates upon. It is an immense machine for the type it is - I've been told it's the largest in the world that does what it does. There are, however, plenty bigger different machines out there.

missjoestar deserves a highly commended for calling it a digger. Some do, so you're right in a way. But digger refers to excavators, loaders and other similar machines, too.

Now onto the prize-winners.

The person(s) masquerading as alannah actually incorporates two winning answers from two people who've featured long term on this blog.

kelsuperstarsinger with Im the big fuck-off truck... Honey, you're miles off by calling it a truck but since you've given it it's own theme song and matching dance I can't resist. For you I'll bring a guitar along when we meet up for Ani Difranco and I'll play whatever you want me to.

Zac, better known to long-term readers here as IcePick answered the question with Zac's DICK. Impressive, honey. Still doesn't do anything for me except inspire a little jealousy, though. For your impressive... answer I will honour you with a prize of Jaegermeister and Red Bull, because obviously you need to keep your circulation rate pretty high.

And finally, the answer that had me laughing for days.

Dive says That's gotta be called Miffy.
Winner!
What do you want, Dive? Let me know.

As for what this thing is really called: It's an electric face shovel but most commonly referred to as just a shovel. Shovels work with a completely different action to excavators, and take a lot more in the bucket - meaning far less time to load a dump truck, but far more stresses on the machine. The one I posted pictures of, I've been told, is the largest electric face shovel in the world. The thing is about twenty years old and nearing the end of it's life. It's machine number at that particular mine is 331. No longer. Thanks to Dive, it will always be known to me as Miffy.

More evil than ever before

"The Gematriculator is a service that uses the infallible methods of Gematria developed by Mr. Ivan Panin to determine how good or evil a web site or a text passage is.

Basically, Gematria is searching for different patterns through the text, such as the amount of words beginning with a vowel. If the amount of these matches is divisible by a certain number, such as 7 (which is said to be God's number), there is an incontestable argument that the Spirit of God is ever present in the text. Another important aspect in gematria are the numerical values of letters: A=1, B=2 ... I=9, J=10, K=20 and so on. The Gematriculator uses Finnish alphabet, in which Y is a vowel.

Experts consider the mathematical patterns in the text of the Holy Bible as God's watermark of authenticity. Thus, the Gematriculator provides only results that are absolutely correct."

The results I got are based on the posts I've made this year. Last year's posts got me a rating of 33% evil, whereas the year before got me a 34% evil rating. My conclusion from that is that last year was pretty under the weather for me, and I've bounced back in more than fine form this year.

Making Music

Dear Dive,

I first started reading you back around the time when I had a solo date with my laptop and anything alcoholic I could lay my hands on for National Drunk Blogging Day. That's coming close to two years ago now.

What really sold me was almost wetting myself while reading a post you wrote on playing New Year's Eve gigs. In the ranty viciously humourous fashion I love to see from you, that piece hit all the right points. While trying to avoid urinal disaster and gasping for air, I just had to keeping saying Bugger it, you're so right! I was sold.

You're amazingly supportive. You comment all the time even if I seem to never answer. It was you who gave me the name Groover. From such a distance you would not believe how much of a positive impact that contact with you has made in my life.

It's important to step back occasionally and think of the positive. You have people who have never met you who love you to pieces - how cool is that?!

I've been meaning to join in your Let's Make a Racket Thursday series since you started it. Yes, it's been an embarrassingly long time, but I'm here now. Just like a drummer I've turned up for the gig eventually.

This is one of my pieces - not a racket as such, but it's here. It's a classical guitar trio written in my first year of Uni (there'll be a few of the Uni days posts coming up - brace yourself). Citrus Twist, performed by myself, Stephen Tafra and Stephen Thorneycroft [aka EphenStephen] in a loungeroom. For performance identification we were usually known as Totally Plucked.

Glad to see you couldn't keep away from Blogville for too long!

Cheers,
Vic

p.s. Eat plenty of curry. If life ever tries to bite you on the arse again at least you can fart back.

Hell yeah!

I'm back, finally.

Before we moved I had a crappy internet connection, not much space, mental health issues and neighbours who would drive even the most tolerant of people toward thoughts of chainsaw massacre.

Now, I have a seperate flat of my own with space enough for a studio. Here I can practise without the fear of putting anybody off classical guitar forever. I have access to a wetland reserve virtually outside the back gate and the only neighbour I've had a chat with so far has cows and has lived here all his life. I moved to Planet Newy to enjoy the benefits of a city, but struggled with immersing myself in it considering I've come from a town that has two traffic lights and four escalators. Where we are now living feels like a compromise between city and country life, and I'm so much happier this way.

So where the hell do I start? Mailboxes? Some of the bizarre conversation I have at work? How about home science experiments? Half-Nekkid Thursday really needs to come back also.

I'm back and it feels good.

If I do not blog daily the entire world has permission to kick my arse.

Back on the Wagon

Meet the King of Lounge Slumber.

This shot mirrors how I feel I have been treating blogging. I look back at what I've written over the past couple of months and it's... nothing. I seem to have lost my words and my ability to spit them out coherently. It's not that there's nothing to say, it's that the ability to flesh it out into a full-blown post from a thought has up and walked away from me. Even the prospect of posting a half-naked picture seems to be uninspiring lately.

Thinking back to where I started blogging it was much the same. I wanted to be part of this community, but really had nothing that I felt was important to say. I started posting daily anyway, and it became such an important part of my life. Fuck, it's through blogging I've met my girlfriend. It's been a fucking HUGE part of my life. So why have I lost the drive?

Possibly I'm wrapped up in my new surrounds. Possibly I'm a little more captivated by the prospect of stealing a kiss from somebody I love. Possibly there's so much going on in my surrounds that is unfamiliar to me that I haven't find a zone to concentrate in yet. But I think the solution is far more simple than these excuses. Life has gotten in the way? No. Pure and simple, I'm out of practise.

So the self-imposed challenge to post daily is back. There might be pictures. There might be blurts and rants. There will be drivel and plenty of it.

Hell, one day I might even be funny.

For now, back on the wagon.