I swear I was at home with the missus, on the date you mentioned...

So I have court this week.

Flips up his collar and flips off the "man"

Not for my car crash (I still haven't heard anything about that), but for land tax. It's not even a cool crime too pick up chicks with.

Hey babee. I'm wanted for non payments of land tax. How bout some skullduggery in bed?

It has all stemmed from inept council workers, not properly flagging my name. I owed a certain amount of land tax, so I went in to organise a payment plan. All was fine and there was handshakes all around. We did the ol' we should do lunch sometime. Get your people to talk to my people. Anyway the stupid lady there didn't record our agreement properly. Which meant my account was still flagged for full payment of said owed amount. Which means I'm wanted by fumbling upholders of law who need to ask me a couple of questions. 'ang on, ang on sonny, what'z all dis den? (must be read aloud in a thick cockney accent).

My mind has been on this appointment all week. Distracting and stressing me out. It was great to hang out with my friends these last couple of weeks. It's kinda hard to keep your mind on such things when people are asking, nay ordering, you to dance and party.

I.Am.Scared.Shitless.

But in true male brew ha ha, I am loathe to admit it. I don't like asking for help. Other people shouldn't have to be dragged down with me. I've been selling my personal things at an accelerated rate. My fine china collection. My garage full of original mustangs. My lock of Bruce Lee hair (it smells like real kung fu), My original cassette album of Michael Bolton...

It's time for me to go underground. My new tag is Joe Flow Stang, the traveling bogan troubadour, minstrel of the big block V8 masses. Rrrrr Rrrmmmmm indeed

Btw, if I go missing for a couple of months, it means I'm either A) in jail or B) on the run :D If answer is A, please break me out in the exact same way as prison break

You can sleep in my doona Thao! *flutter*flutter*

Oh bugger

Oh misunderstanding and drunken minds. Oh confusion and gestures. Oh bugger.

I went out last night to a place called "Comfortable chair". It had a lot of chairs, but not all of them were comfortable :( Or rather, using my superior gut feeling, I managed to pick the worst chair in the estalishment. We sang the praises of Coopers sparkling ale (it was on tap too), while Flyboy and Fista were announcing their intentions for the brunette sitting next to a police officer. The words her boyfriend isn't here gotta them properly riled up. There was ribbing of the Thao and his almost tryst(is tryst the proper word?my brain is farting) with a certain someone (attached no less). The inevitable back slapping that men give each other when matters of testosterone pop up. Or more specifically, our beastial manly roar at last weeks almost fight, when we were about to pewpewpew(laser sounds) gatecrashers with our bottles. Becc and Fista were born to be in photos...together. The cumulative sexy points reachs the high billions. Billion trillion. Mel professed her love for the Jordo. One point that's needed to be stressed, nay bolded:

Silent submarine sex should be used more. The final meaning rests at - Someone who has sexual relations in the same room while 3rd parties abound.

(Fista's silent submarine sex sound is abysmal)

Oh, we had a giant man discussion about girls, breast sizes, cars and bottleings in a room with brick walls that might or might not have been soundproof. I really hope the people in the house did not hear what was said there harr harr harr. Fista made the worst alcoholic drink ever.

Flyboy's job is: Car, DVD's
Fista's is: YOU SAID YOU HAD COMMANDO2! But it will be predator
My job: DVD player and antenna. We have a problem though. That TV is ancient. No AV connections for the DVD player :(

Hmm. this post has roots in confusion. Maybe I should have put it in dot point form?

K, mike check...Mike Czech (the Czech rapper)

When I die, my tombstone will say "Here lies the bones of a fricken genius. He died batteling giant brains", cause...cause, check this shit:

When I am rich, instead of buying an awesome surround sound system, I will hire opera singers and aussie rappers to stand in each corner of my room and make the noises for me. They will memorize the script and make sounds that fit what is supposed to be happening, while I'll be watching the DVD on mute. And an orchestra will be installed behind the walls. My human speakers.

Slavery is fine, when it comes to surround sound yeah?

This goes with my other rich decadent ideas. Instead of mirrors, I will have a HD camera filming me and streaming me onto a HD large screen TV. The other is, I will buy an extremely expensive car, park it on the back of a truck and pay the truck driver to drive me around while I sit in my car. Man, do I know how to live or what?

Bandits have taken my daughter and all the gold in the village!

So I woke up this morning in an empty house, with a slinky in my right hand. Not my house. I had questions, but there was no one to give me answers. I wondered aimlessly around the streets till I found a shop that was not closed. Bought chips and overpriced non-cold orange juice, and trundled back. My hair did one of those freak out things, when it just doesn't want stay cool, and everyone's saying "take a chill pill". I looked like I had been wrestling with pure fucken electricity. Vague memories passed in an out. Some guy I don't remember told me to lock the back door. But I didn't? cardboard masks were strewn around the floor. Enough beer bottles to sink the titanic. Portishead, relentlessly playing in the background. More vague memories. A cowboy that could've been a cowgirl. Some kind of intervention for Rick and the girl who denied him. Trying to sneak in to urinate in the vegetable garden. Random people running in looking to start a fight. Me, crackers and flyboy chugging all our beer and assuming the ol "I-am-going-to-bottle-yous" pose. Jesse exclaiming that she was a "wog" and that she knew how to handle these "wogs", then proceeding to tell them to piss off. Me, wearing the glasses of a sex god. Dancing, oh so much dancing. The lesbian handbook (with step 1 being: you must like girls).

Then it came back to me, like a thunderstorm in the backseat.

Tequila

Never end the night on Tequila shots.

VIDEO:AUX

There used to be an old TV series in the 80's called "Prisoner". I never realized how ahead it was for it's time. It was a drama about female prisoners at Wentworth Detention Centre, and dealt with issues like rape, homosexuality and murder. Quite risque for a country that was churning out eye bursting stuff like "The Young Doctors"... 8 years, it lasted. Didn't even realize. Right now as I apply my sockage to my feetage, I am rocking out to the theme song of "Prisoner", as covered by The Living End. Go here and download the song, ya mongcats!

On the inside

He used to give me roses
I wish he could again
But that was on the outside
And things were different then

We build our world together
With a love so clear and strong
But that was on the outside
Where did I go wrong?

On the inside the sun still shines
And the rain falls down
But the sun and rain are prisoners too
When morning comes around

Last night I dreamed we were together
Sharing all the love we've known
Till I had to face the nightmare
Of waking up alone

On the inside the sun still shines
And the rain falls down
But the sun and rain are prisoners too
When morning comes around

On the inside the roses grow
They don't mind the stony ground
But the roses here are prisoners too
When morning comes around

He used to give me roses
I wish he could again
But that was on the outside
And things were different then

My valentines day was spent with a young girl that kept saying "Uncle Thao! Why are you wearing glasses?". Everytime I answered "Cause Uncle Thao can't see far", I was met with a wall of "Why?". Repeat ad nauseum

Oh and back to back viewing of a Spiderman cartoon DVD.

Sexy

I left you in that room, where the palindromes reside. I ran and I ran, and I never looked back...

Funky...rooms

Typical, I won't admit I like you

When is valentines day? Shall I start filling my front pocket with red roses? Should I start practicing my sweet nothings? Cashing in my free meal coupons? Stealing stuff from my sister to present to potential kindred spirits? I have cards! Oh how I have cards. Try this on:



or




I swear you're the only one!!!

(I now wish I made good on those potential girl-mates, my parents have been trying to set up for me)

I choose you, Huey!!

Dear Mr Huey

I've been a long time fan of your delectable adventures within the culinary battlefield. My friend Rick especially is fond of your Beef-Tortilla-for-one. A tour de force of form and function, that I too have a soft spot for. When you cook, I hear bells of joy, like silent lightning flashing in-line to an old Army bugle player. You seem to revel in the act of sculpturing god-like substances in strange and exotic surroundings. You are always on the move, almost as if you are on the run. And yes, I do know the first rule of survival:

Always keep on the move.

Now I beseech you. You must rise above the others. Look to the east for the coming of the Iron chef's wrath! You must challenge them. Now is the time to strike. With spatula in one hand, and cooking pan in the other, you must show these paupers of cooking royalty what for! I know you will not let me down.

Your eternal fan,

T.N


(Brain Fart. I hope I get a reply)

15cc's of Wombat laughter, STAT!

I need something. Something amazing and colourful. Something to excite me. I need sweet smells and unicorn giggles. I need, vital fucken nutrients. Everythings getting me down.

Clown.

(All I have to eat right now is left over battered banana. Bah! So hungry)

Adopt your local sicko

Oh no! You poor, poor sickos. What will you do now? Human, animal inter-relations will never be the same. Why can't you like BDSM like normal people!?

(note the history of the bill. ho ho ho)

Phone charger, attacked by wild vampires!!!

My phone charger died. Technology is fighting back!
(My mobile phone will be non-operational for awhile)

Yahoo and Google's alarming stance with China is scary. Yahoo seems to have provided personal details about this guy, who has been sent to jail for 10 years. And Google's censorship in China is pure hogwash! Tibet related websites are censored.

The interrogator! no, the instigator! no, the invigorator!

Going to the BDO on no sleep wasn't so bad. Except for when I was watching Sleater Kinney, where I actually fell asleep (for a second), standin up in a mosh. I dunno if they were boring or I was tired. How rock and roll is that? Highlights:

The Grates - Fun music that got me up and crazy. Was the first band I saw. Lead singer Patience goes crazy too, in her white dress.

The Subways - A 3 piece band that gave a great live show. The Bassist, Charlotte, was possessed by rock demons. Sensual. Very sensual. Their show made me want to dive into the crowd and kneecap everyone.

Edan - Calls himself "The Humble Magnificent". A tight rapper with an affinity for the kazoo. Pleasantly suprised with this show.

Hilltop Hoods - Simply the illest. 'nuff said. Aussie hip hop makes life good babeee

The Mars Volta - Insane live show. Lead singer moves like an epileptic man in a dance off against the Lord of the Dance (wait, maybe that was me dancing?)

Iggy Pop & the Stooges - The reigning godfather of rock. Man of muscle and no fat. Pillar of oldschool mayhem. He is still going strong that guy. He threatened to come down to fuck us all. Somehow it seemed believable...

Common - Great show to cap off the night. Smooth jazz hip hop, and crazy scratching. I got a ticket to riiiiide!!!

Too bad I lost some of my friends during the day.