Temper, Temper !!!

Bad things happen when you repeatedly beat me at Chess- be warned.

Yeah, I'm in a foul mood, and i don't have the slightest idea why. Must be having my man-period, or maybe a sympathy-period with my girlfriend. That sounds good, except she's not having hers, and aren't blogs great how we can smash brand new computers and talk about menstruating...even other people's menstruation?

That's what blogs are all about for me anyway.

And don't worry, I feel a lot better after my tanty. Might need a new computer though. Luckily, i keep a backup at all times, because I learned in Scouts how to be prepared and organised, and also how to get molested by my Arkhala, and get my leg caught in a gin trap while running away in terror through the forests of New Zealand.

All in all, Scouts was pretty kickass, coz you'll never know when you might need to quickly cook some beans over a fire made in a cut-out Milo tin, or to...um...get molested.

Hey, you Americans...do you have Milo over there?

And where the Hell is Bou? Posting feels so empty without knowing she's over there in the big city with one hand down her pants, reading all about how obnoxious and egotistical I am.

Come back and post rude things again, you *beautiful loser!

I went to a gallery opening tonight. i wore my new outfit, which consists of an awesome vintage white Terylene/Cotton collared shirt, with these thoroughly Empire-building green stripes sewn into the Glo-weave, a 'several shades of brown' 70/30 Wool/Acrylic Argyle sweater-vest from par Four (circa 1971), and some black Levi's engineered jeans I got for free from Levi's Superstore in Pitt Street Mall in Sydney, when I walked in at the right time and they assumed I was part of the band they were sponsoring, and gave me $1200 worth of stuff for nuthin'.

In fact, here's a couple of pics of it on my floor...just to give you an intimate feel, so to speak.


"Wow!"


"Knifey, do me NOW!"

You can pretend they're on your floor if you like, and that we just finished up making sweet love down by the fire. Even if you're a guy. Just don't tell me about it if you are a guy. That would be amazing.

Anyway, this gallery opening was so dull and contrived I'm not entirely sure i didn't crap my pants just for something to do.

As it happened, the main focus of attention for everyone involved was the fact I was wearing these fresh duds, instead of a ripped Motorhead tee shirt and jeans I found by the side of the Hume Highway in 1989.

No-one paid the artist or his work any mind whatsoever, which dissapointed me greatly, as i felt the least we owed him was a good stoning and maybe a beating with sticks, for being so boring.

One guy I barely know, and have barely known for about 5 years now said i looked "hirsute". I was about to start wailing on his face when my friend who drove me there and back said "It's true, you DO look hirsute!"

I have no idea what it means, but I do know how to spell it anyway. I have standards.

Anyway, after listening to Gwen Stefani's 'Holla- back Girl' on repeat for about 60-gazillion hours, we all decided it was time to get horrendously, and irreversibly drunk.

This might not strike you as weird, but seeing as I don't drink, and haven't for maybe 10 years or more, it struck us as weird.

But then we were all horrendously and irreversibly drunk, so it didn't matter.

My tipple of choice was fruity punch, much to the delight of my crew, who are all of the opinion that if I drank all the time, I'd be ordering 'girlie drinks' at bars and getting embarassed around all the 'real men', drinking straight shots of Satan's Spermatazoa. I was offended by this, as they are 100% on the money.

I must have had all of, I dunno, two...before I stopped remembering, and gave in to full-on intoxication.

Que Fuerte!!!

I'd like to tell you something suitably rock and roll, like, I woke up in the dumpster out the back at 3 in the morning, so i will.

That's what happened, right there.

Then i went back inside, found my friend (who hadn't drunk anything, and therefore cheated), and got a lift home (where I played chess, lost 5 times, and smashed my computer).

And here we are.

I'm gonna go finish installing pickups on my new-guitar-of-the-week, so i can play it and get signed by Sony and be a big rock and roll star one day.



This is knifey, from 'the internet'.











*In-joke, not an insult. So get fucked immediately.