Oh knifey! you're sooo SILLY !!!

Yeah, my new fridge is awesome, thanks for asking!

Well, today, I did something I haven't done in more than a decade- I practiced the guitar.

I mean, sure, I have band rehearsals and do sessions all the time, but this was all playing scales and improving sloppy picking techniques, as well as working out how to hold my plectrum harder, while fingering softer (which believe me, has even U.S. Marines Helicopter pilots stumped).

I needn't have bothered though, coz I'm still AWESOME.

I'm not so awesome in the memory department though- I've been stumbling around in a daze for about a week.

Did you spike my drink? And if so, why didn't you fuck me?!

Case in point-

I had a blowout on my bike, and was pushing it the 7 or so kilometres home, when a car pulls up and asks for directions to the hospital.

The hospital is right next door to my house, so I gave this guy directions, and as he's driving away, I thought "I really should have asked him for a lift."

Here's another-

I was in Fitzroy the other day looking for Gertrude Street. Some hot British backpackers (is that an oxymoron?) asked me to show them directions to the nearest Post Office.

So I did, and as I walked away, I realised I totally should have checked out where the fuck Gertrude Street is.

Who names a street 'Gertrude Street' anyway?

If it was 'Fonzie Street', I'd totally know where it was, even from space.

I had a full body wax today (not my head, silly), and my cock looks fucking enormous(er).

It's like a smooth white sea monster, exploring the depths of your cervix, riding waves of pleasure, and...welll...throwing up a lot.

Out of its eye.

That didn't go so well.

I'm sure you've heard by now, but the Doctor is dead.

Hunter S Thompson took his own life in the kitchen with a firearm.

I hope Johnny Depp comes back and plays him in his life story.

It's such a beautiful night here tonight. It's cool, and all the stars are out, and the sky is clear, and it's all just screaming out for junk food and a big furry blanket on the grass at The Botanical Gardens, and sex of course, and lying back stroking whatever body part is nearest and talking about the universe, and if Britney is indeed getting fatter.

Where are you? And why haven't we met?

I have to go write some guitar solos for Disgraceland now, so you can all go "Holy shit! Did he really just play that?!", then shower all alone, and slip into my pure white sheets and sleep with a big smile on my face, and my cat on my arm..



G'nite.


This is knifey, from 'the internet', and the guitar player hall of fame.