Tuesday, May 08, 2007


I mark every 17th word in your letters, hoping to find your hidden messages.

"Alert the Allies"

"They've taken the microfilm"

"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas"

"You lived and I didn't"

Monday, May 07, 2007

Sexy (also ....zzzzzzzzzzzzz or lack of it)

Sometimes I want to go back to blogging. But I don't know where to start. How much shall I reveal? How much shall I hold back? What subjects? Funny musings? Weekend party stories? Broken hearts and devastated dreams? Maybe even commentary on the current state of the world. How well did I do when I was blogging?

I guess people are tired of reading about my financial problems. Feeling the fabric of my fibre doesn't make for compelling reading. In fact, I haven't done much with my old posts. Slightly eccentric mind stamps about getting drunk and shouting catchphrases. Hardly sexy. I know you want sexy. I want sexy.

I will muse on it. I will set my Hello Kitty alarm clock, and hug my Ninja Turtles figurines.
GOSHNESS is not a word

Friday, April 06, 2007

Everybody hands on heads

I am the instigator, and it is time for some graceful tomfoolery. Our laughter will be like the ringing of bells. Kiss my rings, you beautiful jesters. Something wicked this way comes!


Happy Easter holidays everyone.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Head back, nodding to the gods of the world

If I were a drop of dew,
I could take refuge on a blade of grass.

But I am only

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

I am not a hot head. I may be a pornstar, an idiot, a fuckwit, a hot head; but I am NOT a communist!

I've always had a fascination with...well... violence (which is too strong a word but right now I can't think). Not in the sense that I get my rocks off on it or something fetish-ee like that. I don't particularly hate anyone. I'm not angry at the world. I abhor the idea of hurting anyone without cause. The fights I've been in can only just be counted on 2 hands. So what the fuck is wrong with me Oprah?

Some of my friends know about my pot stirring when it comes to pub and bar fights. Understandingly, they view me as something of a hothead. I am captivated with the visceral nature of fights and violence. When people are brawling in some dirty pub dive, it's real. I'm watching real anger flare up. Physical, bone crunching cluster fists are exchanged. In a world where people are hidden amongst their social restraint, it's refreshing to see a human being open up their inner walls and show real emotion. My view of laughter and humour is the same. When you watch someone truly laugh without inhibitions, it's a sight to behold. Their face screws up, they make strange sounds and tears roll down their cheeks. They might slap their thighs or just completely crumble into fits. They lose control. It's bloody beautiful. It's like when you smash a plate on the ground. Sometimes you feel the liberation behind the guilt. I smashed that plate and it's completely broken! Theirs nothing I can do about that and I don't care! I imagine adrenaline junkies feel the same way. Always looking for true fear to exhilirate them. It's something of a primal urge. To see true human fire. It is the age old flirtation with oblivion. To maybe lose control a little. To throw yourself head first. Sometimes I want to just hurl things across fields. Just to show myself that, gosh darn it, I'm alive and kicking. That's why it looks so fun when people do army rolls across car bonnets in action movies! No one does it anymore.

I buggered up explaining myself. And this may actually confuse people more. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like it because I like army rolling across car bonnets. Can I roll over yours?

Friday, February 23, 2007

I'd woo her tenderly and remain abstinent til marriage, if you know I mean.

This has to be one of the funniest party stories ever. It's not mine by the way. My stories would be filled with gods, flexing their muscles to the beat of footloose. 1000 reps atleast!

I wasn't going to unleash this little story, but here it is:

A couple of years ago my bros ex had her 18th which was a great party, save for a few unfortunate incidents.

1. I saw a guy I used to play soccer with about 5-6 years earlier who has since been confined to a wheelchair. We posed for a photo and because I was a huge metalhead at the time I gave the horns in the picture. I told him to give the horns too but he said no, so i bugged him for a bit and told him I wouldn't take the photo unless he did. Then he says "Sorry man I can't move my fingers like that". I felt so damn horrid, here I was bugging him and he doesn't even have the ability to do it with his minimal hand movements.

2. I was in the kitchen with some I dude I just met and he needed to take a leak. So he did out the door. So I thought I would go one better and do one in a glass on the counter. I filled it up nicely and turned it around and saw what was written on it: "Happy 18th Sarah". Here I was drinking this chicks free beer and I went and took a leak in her 18th glass her family gave her. Once again I felt terrible so I repeatedly washed it out with the kettle. Meanwhile my new friend was rolling around on the floor laughing.

3. I was talking to the birthday girl a little later and this woman walked over to us. She asked my name and I told her and she commented that I looked just like my father (not a fan of him), so I turned to the bday girl and said "Who's this bitch, I don't like her". She replied with, "That's my mum". Suprisingly they both found it funny but I was still embarrassed.

4. After the party ended we went back to the bday girls house. One of her distant friends whom I had only just met was there talking about how she could squirt milk as she'd just had a baby a month earlier. So of course by this stage (2 in the morning) I was egging her on to get one out and squirt it us. She told me that she couldn't do it anymore though. I said that that was crap and that she could because the kid was only one month old and she'd still be breast feeding him. Her reply: "I don't breastfeed anymore because my child died after a week". I kind of sputtered a bit and ran off.

5. So at this stage I just wanted to get home. Now something I neglected to mention earlier was just after I urinated in the bday girls glass my new found friend and I thought it'd be funny to hide in an empty freezer. This was great except I got a wet butt because I sat in it. When I jumped out I saw the oven and thought it'd be great to dry off. So I opened the oven which was heating some food (not cooking though so it wasnt overly hot) and stuck my butt in it. As I had a good 10 mins or so before it'd be a bit dryer I thought I'd munch into the lasagne that was in there. I ate so much of it but it wasn't ordinary lasagne, it was spicy as all hell.

So on the walk home karma caught up with me when I found myself feeling a bit "iffy" about 4 blocks from home. I started sprinting and got about 2 blocks before I had to rip my pants off right in the middle of the street and let fly with the nastiest liquid number 2 ever known to man. And because I do a number 1 and 2 simultaneously I had to hold my package with one hand (so I didn't urinate all over myself) and balance myself with the other. To this day I still don't know how I didn't fall back into my own crap.

So here I am going at it in the middle of the street laughing my face off. I got up and started running again and had to stop another two times before I got home. Once directly under a street light, and once in someones back yard (unoccupied house though).

I got home, threw my jocks out, had a shower and went to bed knowing that no matter what next weekend held for me, it couldn't have been worse than offending a cripple, offending a mother who'd lost her child, urinating in the hosts glass and spraying the road with brown paint!!

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Happy Monoclessssss

(from: http://www.whiteninjacomics.com)

Happy Monocle (valentines) day you beautiful poppette! You're the cannonball and chain around my ankles, my love.

Friday, February 09, 2007

Dude! Danish Centaurs!

And it’s been such a lovely day
Let’s not let it end this way

So it's a new year. Fresh faces blink out the time. And you lie in bed, occupying the time between lying awake knowing the alarm will go off, and the alarm actually going off. It's a peacful moment. A sliver of a second. A quiet time. Your time. And you map out your seconds, your minute, your days, your years and your lifetimes. You nod approvingly to your grand plans.

Today I'll whistle more. A small tune within my boundaries. Today I'll gesture more, and make elongated movements with my arm. Today I'll dance on powerlines and drink from the cradle of the sky. I won't apologize. People will understand. They'll wink, knowingly. "There he goes", they'll say, "there he goes. He has plans you see. Plans".

We'll share a stifled laugh under the old bridge. "Oh who put all those cares inside your head?". We'll join clubs and alliances. "We'll put it off for one more day". Don't look back in the years. Behind is the dancing shadows, leaping higher. The gaping chasm, like kissing the lips of your dead love. "No you're right, we'll put it off for just another day".

So how are you world? I'll bow and I'll grin. The possibilities are mounting and I'm ready. I'm swirling like a drunkard.


Wednesday, January 24, 2007

One simply can't just blog his way to Mordor

deshea27@bigpond.net.au has been added to the conversation.

grug17@hotmail.com has been added to the conversation.

Thaozee says:
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
oi troy
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
when you meet anne maries dad will he make you piss in a cup?
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
im hilarious
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
am i the only one talkin here or what?
Thaozee says:
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
your all assholes
Thaozee says:
one day im gonna slit all your throats. ever try luaghing while blood's coming out your throat? it's like you have 2 mouths and they're both dribbling. dribbling like a basketball player.maybe one day we'll stop lingering amongst the minefields. ol'johnson always tells us to scram
Thaozee says:
but i think he's looking out for us. he had children of our age

grug17@hotmail.com has left the conversation.

Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
you scared grug
Thaozee says:
maybe he even sees his murdered kids in our youthful faces. maybe there's a flicker of recognition in those cold eyes
Thaozee says:
i would like to tell him it's alright. but I have no guarantees.
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
ive lost some cds i hope they are around the house
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
someone cut troys toongue out
Boganmaster - merry christmas hos says:
he cant speak
Thaozee says:
cant stop the crawling in my skin! when will they let me be. can't stop the sighing in my fur'
Thaozee says:
haha i have a ben folds cover of "she don't use jelly"
Thaozee says:
Thaozee says:
the 7 point chakra crown, includes a line along your spine. if one were to apply enough "force" (not physical) into the points, life forced can be siphoned out. it's life lathcing on to life. do you see?
Thaozee says:
I stepped out of the bar, the fat baubles of rain, splattered thickly on my long coat. dark forms, flitted across my peripheral vision, like ghost ships. I coughed. blooded, escaping from my protective hand. was it the whiskey I lived on? or the countless cigarettes i sucked down? I looked up and winced with pain. Sunlight was a faraway myth. I stepped forward and thought "it has to start somehow"
Thaozee says:
I swung the gun around. it seemed too long. why didn't I practice this at home? villains rarely jumped to the front of you. he had come at me from nehind. it was awkward, suprising, my body protested the sharp movement I was willing it to do. my last thought...grim...silly...lazy... why didn't he jump from above? I had many years of practicing lifting my arm to my face, bottle on tow.
Thaozee says:
maybe I'll crack that black label out, If I made it out alive.
Thaozee says:
I watched her form in the darkness. the dark cleft of her female sex. the perk breasts, rising into peaks. The softness of her skin that showed through the near dark. I was afraid to go close, to smell her hair, to taste her neck. A red, passionate dress, laid haphazardly at the end of the bed. On any other day, I might have laughed at the way her arms lay, like she ointing out treasure.
Thaozee says:
but she was dead, and there was not enough whiskey in the world to change that.
jordo... says:
are u talking to anyone?
Thaozee says:
jordo... says:
i don't want to talk to you
Thaozee says:
Thaozee says:
I leaned back on the wall. My stomach flipped. then flipped again. the bile and disgust was willing itself up. up. up. and out. I ran to the toiletm and threw up.
jordo... says:
leave me alone
jordo... says:
Thaozee says:
hahaha it's my noir, private eye novel
Thaozee says:
someone just framed jonesy, by leaving a dead girl in his bed
jordo... says:
a very subtle framing
Thaozee says:
everyone saw them eating at smoking joes at 8pm. no one will believe he left alone
jordo... says:
he's in trouble
Thaozee says:
so he escapes into a wardrobe that his grandfather left him, and it takes him to antoher world....
Troy says:
I am currently idle.
jordo... says:
isn't that narnia?
Thaozee says:
i never steal ideas!!!!
jordo... says:
download "cold war boys" of mininova
jordo... says:
really good
Thaozee says:
better not be gay russian porn...
jordo... says:
cold war kids
jordo... says:
sorry, cold war boys is russian porn
jordo... says:
with midgets
Thaozee says:
gay underage russina porn...if the FBI come..I swear man..
jordo... says:
on ice skates
Thaozee says:

Monday, November 06, 2006

Drunk, high, and discussing Buddhist philosophies with 2 American rappers...

...is how Becc's and Tadd's engagement party ended for me. It was a fun night. I wore a suit (pinstripe, gangsta number) because I wanted to look a bit more special for their special moment, and I thought everyone else was going to be dressed up. Not so. But atleast I looked completely boss.

I nearly didn't make it though. I had some kind of sickness that was jamming my motor functions. I couldn't concentrate for most of the night. My eyes wanted to vomit things that were not tears. Things were leaking in the back of my mind. I had to maintain, but all I wanted to do was shout and clap my hands.

Now I have to go hire action movies for my parents

You don't mind Thao, but you don't like the idea of the Thao

Thursday, November 02, 2006

No really does mean no

What the shit? Blogger works now. They must have trained new monkeys to run the treadmills. Go monkey go! Here's a banana.


Friday, October 27, 2006


In the last couple of weeks I've been helping my cousin pick her children up from school. She's been stuck at the doctor's or the hospital a lot. I'm the only person that doesn't work 5 days a week and can easily skip work, so it fell to me.

The first couple of times were pretty interesting. I would walk down to the school, putting on my best non-vagabond face. If anyone talked to me I was prepared to answer them in a heavy british accent. All toffy like ol chap. I was trying my darn best to appear nothing like a drug dealer or child pervert. Or both. It all fell to shit when I appeared behind the fence and was greeted with Bianca bursting into tears shouting "I want mummy!". Now I know these kids. They come around sunday morning to punch Uncle Thao in the balls while he is asleep and hung over. That's why the first time picking up Brandon was worse. I Jumped through the door with a hearty BRANDON! and my arms outspread. The teacher came up and asked him if he knows me and the little shit shakes his head. So there I was feeling as awkward as a man with an erection in a giraffe cage. When I finally sorted it out (by calling his mum to confirm), and we walked out the door, the brat giggles and shouts at me "LET'S GO UNCLE THAO!".

These days it is better. I get greeted with an "UNCLE THAO! OVER HERE!" and when I stand there at the playground watching them play on the monkey bars, they tell the other kids that over there stands their Uncle Thao. Then they smile and wave. I can't help but feel fucking great. I'm soaring on the g-force of gods, man. It really is all worth it.


I've been having trouble posting on blogger. The fucking hag of a place throws out errors and refuses to comply with my demands. Damn you Blogger. I couldn't even leave a comment on my own blog. Shit sucks

Sometimes, someone gives you an offer you can't refuse...

I'm back, safe. Missed you.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

It's my unicorn riding face

It's nearly my birthday again. 14th of October. What do I have to show for 23 years of lounging on this planet? Well, this:

I promise you I'm doing the best I can.

Friday, September 29, 2006

:) :D One of us is different from the other

I stepped in. I had done this many times before. I extended my arm to push the button, displaying my uncanny ability to press the right floor number without even looking. Yes, I was in a lift and on my way to the 8th floor.
Up and up it went, a mechanical bullet barreling through the sky. I often would close my eyes and imagine myself as a secret agent, heading up to headquarters to celebrate my victory over evil terrorists…

The other day I got stuck inside a lift. One of the old lifts in the collingwood flats. I wasn't there too long though, only about 20 minutes at the most. It wasn't a defining moment like I hoped it would be. There was no blinding revelation. I didn't start calling a volley ball Wilson. There was little drama... Maybe there was panic. Some sprinkling of claustrophobia. Groucho Marx impersonations. Dying for a cigarette. Handstands (it's easy inside a mechanical beast). Kung Fu poses. Wailing air guitars.

…I heightened my senses to detect any sound or movement. What was that? A mouse? Cables snapping? Superman? Maybe this was a surprise party. Maybe my family and all my friends would jump out from their hiding positions and shout ‘SUPPLIES’ (in broken english) as the lights came on...

I love you all my lovelies. Let's all have mad sex. Together. Smiley face, grin.

Friday, September 22, 2006

I'm left numb, without the means of explanation

Would you understand when I say there's fire behind the mask?

Love takes you to the strangest places

But I never loved, I knew no better.

But you go willingly

Never willingly, oh never willingly. I never asked for this.

The gunshot and laughter is the last thing they remembered

I need mania. I need laughter and hammers. I need to see beautiful birds, wrestling in multi-coloured jelly. I need to hear small bells, sing lullaby's to the scared masses. I need the string section to play while I run on rooftops. I need to play the saxaphone like I'm putting in the Mortal Kombat blood code on the super nes. I need to throw electric guitars through buildings and taunt kids with guns. I need to be there for the crowning of the new prince of Bel-air. I need to explode onto the acting scene as a child in charming family movies, then a few years later fade from the public eye. I need to be shot into the sky to puncture the drums of the gods.

who is lost to the world, Stay Alive
January, February, March, April, May, I'm alive
June, July, August, September, October, I'm alive
November, December, yah all through the winter, I'm alive
I'm alive

I need help, but who will buy? And who will sell?

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Bring da rum! Thar be wenches

It be i'rnational talk like ye pirate day ya wenches an landlubbers! Ye be wantin scurvy? *places right hand and cutlass* Sparrow ain't got shit on me


Cheesy pirate jokes ahoy cap'n.

"What does a pirate keep his money in?"

A JARRRRrrrggh!!!!!!!!!!!!!


He did the mash
He did the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
He did the mash
It caught on in a flash
He did the mash
He did the monster mash

Oh I think I'm going crazy. The other day while walking on the track near Croydon swinny, I heard very loud opera singing. At first I though it was a doof head detox session, but it got louder and louder. Suddenly a giant man came over the hill singing opera songs at the tops of his lungs. I veered left to let him pass, in-case he started singing battle arias and wail on me with his battle axe. Man, I wish I was as happy as this guy. He was on top of his game. Had quite a good voice.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006


The other when I came home drunk, I made good on my promise to watch Finding Nemo before going to sleep. Only when I reached the credits, and wondered why the movie was over so fast, did I realize that I had been watching it at 2X fast forward with subtitles on.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

When the hounds come around, I go to the bottle

As I walked into my room, I had the odd sensation of not recognising anything in it. I could not get comfortable on my futon. No manner of leaning could dispell the feeling of discomfort. Feet up, feet down, twisting and turning... I had realized, too late, that I had lurched into a party where I knew no one. I had a strange feeling that the memories associated with the rooms contents were not my own. And that these past stories were created before I was even there. I was a mere apparition of these past tunes. A silhouette, lingering on at the behest of demanding memories. A change of socks fixed everything.

So I tried to embarrass Ol'Stuntcock in front of his workmates while not getting kicked out of the pub. A balance of Ying and Yang baby! Spring breeds mayhem. I nearly got into a biffo in the toilets (which was diffused with liberal doses of the phrase "fuck off mate!") and was scared everytime a security guard walked towards me. I swear someone spiked my drink or something...

Congratulations to my fruity lover in getting engaged. I thought I dreamt it up in a drunken haze. Too bad I didn't get to catch up with you, Crackers and Mel. Somehow I imagine you doing the Hosey as your wedding dance...

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Something like a phenomenon

Spring is here. And with it the good weather. And with the good weather, Thao gets the thirst. The overriding urge to slip into deck chairs, cut pants into shorts, spray paint vague slogans onto t-shirts, dust out the stubby holders, pop on Buena Vista Social Club and wolf whistle at pretty young things in polka dot dresses. We will sit around drinking port, smoke cigars and discuss Oscar Wilde. Oh the beautiful amber liquid will pour freely into glasses. Liquid sensual, raw and lively. Old ladies will be cheering my name from the 8 items or less line, throwing hands in the air like victims in a cop show.

Oh, I aim to get reckless.

But, most importantly, I finally get some proper work cranking.

Get your crunk on (that's right, I went there)

Friday, September 01, 2006

We were built to wah wah the empire

I've been meaning to post this.

I've started the ball rolling for my great escape. You can all start calling me the cooler king right now. Only time will reveal my subtle plan, or MI5 agents. Here's to not being here. Cheers yo!

Tuesday, August 29, 2006


I'm gonna go light some firecrackers down the road! I hope they work, cause I found them at the bottom of my closet. And if people come running out asking what I'm doing, I'll reply:

I'll do graffiti if you sing to me in french!

Sow that confusion in their minds. Let them know that I never forget....never...


Friday, August 25, 2006

Rolling with Jane Austen, foo

When I was younger, my sister used to force me to read Jane Austen books with her. So I am unfortunate enough to know a fuckload of those novels. I know to use 'Persuasion' to line my walls to keep in the heat, and Pride and Prejudice to get the fire started. 'Sense and Sensibility' should be used (instead of 'Emma') if you find yourself short on toilet paper, only because it is the only 18th century novel that feels like 3 ply. 'Emma' is only good for preserving meat, or maybe as a source for serial killers to cut out letters so they can write their creepy letters. After saying all that though, I don't mind the novels. Who doesn't like to read about smouldering glares from across the ball room? Pompous language that holds back the swelling of emotions that these protaganists try to hold back. Dry, "I-can-sand-the-edges-of-highschool-woodwork-projects", wit. Class-less women, hoisted by parents towards the Bingley's, and the Darcy's, and the Wick's... gentleman that fell asleep years ago.

When I first read these novels (or heard my sister read them) I, unfortunately, started to emulate the way of speaking. It still happens today (to an extent) when I read my 18th century mystery/thrillers. I get a desire to ride horses across fields, and call on eligible young women to join me at my castle. Ancient speech pops into my head. I really don't know why I'm writing this. Maybe it's because I just watched the most recent cinema adaption of Pride and Prejudice. The novel aped by Bridget Jones and her diarys. If I had to sum it up in a couple of seconds? Pretty good. I didn't even mind Keira 'Horse face neigh neigh' Knightly. Seriously, Knightly has 2 expressions. Her normal face, and her 'emotion' face, which consists of her looking like she just smelled her own flatulence.

Yes. I'm re-reading Pride and Prejudice right now. To balance it out, and regain some of my manliness mojo, I will leave my internet downloading porn in the background.

Damn you Mav the stealth, poker shark. Don't you know I'm God of Gambler? and possibly loco?