There's Not Much Time Left in the World

I'm getting older. Once upon a time, I didn't think about it too much, but my fiancee thinks about it a little too much. She's vocalised her concerns enough that now, I worry about it too. Thanks, hon ;)

When I was young I wanted to do a hell of a lot. All sorts of shit. I wanted to write computer games, write books, make art, write music, direct movies, discover extrasolar planets, restore old motorcycles, learn how to snap guns in half with my mind, successfully compete in bodybuilding competitions, invent molecular nanotechnology, figure out how to travel faster than light using a single nine volt battery and many more things. As arrogant as this may sound, I'm sure I could be successful at many of these, provided I had the time. I think the same goes for every other person on this planet.

The thing is, I'm mortal. I'm not going to live forever, so I have to make decisions on what I can do with that time while I am still as a conscious thing-a-ma-jig walking about, being productive. I work full time, and then some. The time I have left I have to devote to other passtimes, preferably productive ones (I have to abstain from buying that XBOX!). I have to choose what I'm best at. I've come up with bodybuilding and most importantly, writing.

So, there is your reason why I haven't posted as much as I could have on this pathetic blog of mine. I've been writing. Quite a bit, in fact. I have so many ideas for stories, but most would end up being giant one thousand page novels rather than short stories which I should stick to if I'm going to get any reasonable practice for a future career. Practice with short stories seems to be the obvious step before tackling my grandiose ambitions.

My first serious 'short story' ended up being eleven thousand words long. The one I am working on at present (a teenage science fiction fantasy) will probably be longer.

I've talked to another writer, and he is enthusiastic about undertaking a joint effort to write a novel. He has a brilliantly creative mind, so writing with him should be an absolute pleasure. We keep in contact regularly. We can learn a lot from each other. He's already published literature.

If you're wondering on what I write, my interests are broad, but would probably come under the heading of science fiction, because it embraces so many writing styles from horror to romance. I'd like to try all of them! Of course, I don't want to tell you too many details about my writing ambitions because it may reveal my identity, and lets face it, there are many net loonies out there who would like to delete this blog, find out where I live and photograph my willy whilst I do wee-wees.

One day, while looking in the second hand book store, you may come across a cheesy book of which you like. Who knows... You could be reading the contents of my imagination!

Anyway, enough drunken Christmas rantings for now.

Sprog.

I Am Stupid Part II

Hello there, you bloody fools!

I noticed that the blog entry that grabbed the most attention was the one entitled 'I am stupid'. Why the fuck is that? I is not a sputid!

This entry is a blatant advertisement for all the OTHER fucking articles on this blog. Please read them and be stunned by my wit, you mindless plebeian rabble.

Sprog.

PS: Is it just me or does John Howard look like a pedophile?

Merry Northern Hemisphere Winter Solstice!

...Or as our Christian buddies would probably prefer me to say, 'Merry Christmas!'

I tell you what, the best Christmas you can possibly have is the Christmas in which you don't have to have Christmas! Like I'm having, today! While everybody else is going out to visit relatives that they dislike out of some sense of obligation, I slept in until 3:00 pm! Hurray!

Tonight I am going to get completely smashed with my fiancee.

See you later.

Hold on to your past!

I've drunk a little too much right now. That's why I feel like posting on my stupid blog.

As I get steadily drunker and drunker my thoughts begin to wander towards a 'friend' of mine. My Fiancée and I were bitching about him tonight. He lives in the past, way back. And I mean way back.

Let me tell you some of his most notable foibles.

Firstly, he has the most appalling sense of humour. Every attempt at a joke that emerges from his gob makes you cringe so hard that I fear I'll snap the vertebrae in my neck. Now, when I go out with my circle of friends, I'll crack the odd joke or two, mostly to amuse myself more than anyone else. He sees this as an opportunity to be 'Mr Funny Man!', and wants to start some sort of comedy dialogue with me. It is absolutely horrible. He manages to offend just about everybody. At one point an African man crossed the road, and he said out loud in his obnoxious voice, 'HEY LOOK, HE'S A N****R!'. Now, in Australia, the 'N' word isn't used very often and is heard mostly on US television programmes. The man being observed simply looked at Mr Comedy with pity, rather than offence. I'll get more to his 'humour' in a moment...

He's stuck in the eighties. Not only that, he's stuck in some of the worst of the eighties. Yes, that's right, I'm referring to hard rock and glam metal. Oh, the belt buckles, long hair, Harley Davidson merchandise, the Metallica T-Shirts, the big boots, the bogan lifestyle. Oh, the indignity! Recently, he had the audacity to refer to me by the antiquated term of 'yuppie', simply because I wasn't wearing all black. I was simply dressed in neat summer wear, nothing particularly fashionable or unfashionable. In other words, I was simply dressing my age. This was one of his 'jokes', or rather thinly veiled jealousy.

And yes, he's jealous. Like a lot of dumb people, he thinks he's smart and that we wont be able to pick up his 'subtle' mocking through his 'hilarious jokes'. He's jealous of my fiancees incredible artistic skills, good looks and her car. He's jealous of my physical fitness, my job, my intellect (hey, it's true! I am intelligent! I have a note from my mother!) and my appreciation of pretty much every form of art outside the tiny sphere of eighties metal. He is growing to be so fucking annoying.

He's jealous of my friends car. First my friend had a big Ford, which Mr Comedy referred to as a 'shit heap'. My friend tolerated this, simply regarding it as the ranting of a simpleton. Now, my friend has bought a new car, a Mitsubishi. Mr Comedy Genius now refers to it as a 'Mitsushitsi'. How very fucking funny. If you saw comedy-man's car, you'd wonder. It is one of the sorriest pieces of shit I have ever seen in my life. Learn to budget, Mr Comedy, and buy something that you can actually be proud of.

When I first met him, I quite liked the man. He was friendly, though a little simple. Levels of intelligence certainly don't make people better or worse than another. But as the years have progressed my opinion of him have dropped to somewhere far below sea level. Once in town, he pointed at a gay couple and announced to the world, 'LOOK! F*GGOTS!'. I told him to leave them alone and let them live their lives the way they liked. His response was that they were 'unnatural'. I asked him to define 'unnatural' to me (in simple words that he could understand). His reply was, simply, 'I just think they're unnatural!'. Fucking genius. It's a shame opinions don't require thought.

Did I mention he is also a drunk driver?

Now my friend, who owns the Mitsubishi is far less forgiving than me. I put his irritating behaviour down to the fact that he isn't the brightest spark. My friend simply wants to beat him up and flush his head down the toilet. But what can I do? Unfortunately, I know I'm going to explode at this idiot one of these days and then I'll have an enemy. Despite what you may think, I actually dislike confrontation, but like my mortality, the days are ticking by to the inevitable.

If there were a god, then he'd give this guy some functioning brain cells. The universe is a cruel place.

If he knew I were listening to Aphex Twin right now, he'd most certainly call me a 'yuppie'. A fucking yuppie? I stopped using that term when I was sixteen! (that was many years ago, I might add, to my distress)

Sprog.

Hannibal Rising

Well, I just finished Hannibal Rising by Thomas Harris. I'm not usually a fan of horror and thriller novels, but Hannibal is among the most deliciously evil and amusing characters ever created. So vicious and villainous, like the Master (from Doctor Who), but both simultaneously well meaning and insanely evil.

To tell the truth, I didn't expect much. The book 'Hannibal' was not that impressive. I've enjoyed Harris' other books, except Black Sunday which I haven't yet read. This book is, however, better.

It seem that Harris has simultaneously written the book and the screenplay to the up and coming movie. As a result, I found the story a little linear, but still entertaining. Linear stories can still be a great read (an example is Non Stop by Brian Aldiss). I was expecting explicit violence but didn't seem to receive as much as my sick stomach would have liked. This isn't, however, to say that Hannibals gruesome exploits weren't entertaining in the least. They had me chuckling enough for my workmates to raise a few eyebrows.

The greatest attraction to this book is, naturally enough, the exposition of Hannibals past. You are allowed to witness the growth of his personality and pathology as the book progresses. Starting off as a unusually smart, sensitive and even endearing child, he becomes through personal torment and torture a disturbed individual, and at last a cold and bloody murderer with a mind that only has a passing resemblance to that of a human being.

I'm not saying that this book is fantastic. If you're looking for another Red Dragon, then you're going to be disappointed. Harris is more than likely in it solely for the megabucks now (which is fair enough - how often can one make lots of money with a clear conscience?). The book was, however, worth buying for myself and I look forward to the movie release next February.

Why is it that villains are so much more amusing than good guys?

Sprog.

Borat

Hi! It's me! I thought I'd add another blog entry to this tiresome shitheap on the net.

First of all, Merry Christmas to all of you. I may not believe in gods but I do appreciate a good holiday and party. Suggestions for presents... Richard Dawkins 'The God Delusion'. (I just had to chuck in my opinions on religion there *wink wink*)

I finally had the opportunity to see the Borat movie tonight. Fuck me! I actually had an asthma attack in the theatre because I was laughing so fucking hard. I don't want to spoil the adventure for anyone who has not seen the film, but apparently Sacha Baron Cohen was speaking in Hebrew instead of Khazakh, with many 'in jokes'. Does anyone know what he was saying, apart from the frugal bits and pieces released by the press?

In any case, I recommend you go see this film and give this 'shape shifting Jew' more money! (See the movie to get the joke)

Sprog

Real estate agents are fucking turds.

Hi. It's me!

My fiancee and I are currently looking for a house to call our own. Our loan has been approved and our cash situation is more or less in order. Unfortunately, we've had to deal with the A-grade dickheads of the universe, fucking real estate agents.

You have to be some sort of compulsive lying fucknut conperson to be a REA (Yeah, can't be bothered writing the full name). I mean, the absolute bullshit I've seen flying out of their gobs is unfuckingbelievable. The one that shits me most is when you are in an overpriced dump and the REA says, 'We've already had an offer of $450,000' when we both know it is a lie. Do they think I am that stupid? I don't bother to contain my contempt, and simply snigger in their face. I usually tell them what the place is really worth and leave.

I had some guy tell me the same thing in a house whose walls had cracks you could see through. Not only that, but one of the walls was bent so far out of shape that a door had been bent into the shape of Gumbys head (the cartoon character, I mean). I now refer to that piece of shit as The Gumby House. Pokeys barn is out the back.

Ever read the real estate pages in the paper? What a load of shite. They will use any 'clever' wording in order to sell whatever pile of shit has been slapped on their desks. Here are some examples, and their true meaning...

Great starter!... Too tiny and in a shitty neighbourhood full of bogans.
Full of potential!... Requires at least $50K in repairs and basic renovations.
Cosy little home!... One fucking room and a kitchen.
A renovators dream!... See 'full of potential!' and add another $50K.
Stunning view!... You can see the power station between those two dead trees.
Location! Location! Location!... Four kilometers from the nearest bus stop, in which you can catch a bus every hour to the local shops, which takes forty five minutes to reach.
Bargain!... A fibro house, falling to bits, air conditioner stolen, walls kicked in, cock and balls sprayed on front door, pit bull terriers for dogs next door, and the neighbours brawl 24 hours a day (and sometimes shoot each other).

It is so damn hard to find a decent place!

It's all too hard

Goddamn I am sick of blogging. My own attempt is pathetic, but less so than most. I cant be bothered to come up with any important, original or even slightly funny posts because it is all such a waste of time, especially considering that we're all going to grow old and die someday (if we're lucky).

I can't pretend that blogging is important unlike some. Perhaps I should do the pretentious thing and cut/paste poems from around the net on here. At least I could give you some excuse to read here.

I should probably get involved in some sort of flame war. They're always funny.

(addition: I should be careful what I wish for)

Sins of the Blogosphere.

One of the primary sins of the blogosphere is lack of new posts. Given my nature to procrastinate, and simply grow bored with things, I hope you can forgive me here. However, this time I have an excuse. My internet provider had a seizure. You see, their wholesale provider was Veridas Communications. I wish I knew what the hell happened there.

I give you this post as a pitiful atonement for this one sin.

I Am Stupid

I can't figure out how to edit those links to the right of the page! It's a pain in the arse. It must be something incredibly obvious otherwise I wouldn't miss it.

Radio Rentals

Bad publicity is exactly what Radio Rentals is getting, and what it deserves. There is something everybody hears when they start working in the service industry and it goes like this...

Every satisfied customer tells three others about how good your store is, but every dissatisfied customer tells nine people how bad your store is.

Throwing ordinary working people out on the penniless shitheap for a month, and having it reported on the news cannot be good for business. I hope the upper management gets what they deserve from this. Unfortunately, all the normal Radio Rentals employees will suffer the consequences of the thoughtless and callous idiots that pretend to run things there.

I think it would be a good time for all Radio Rentals staff to strike. They'll be next on the list to be shafted, one way or another.

I Was A Weird Kid

I was weird when I was a kid. Fortunately for me, my parents encouraged my weirdness. For one thing, when my fellow schoolmates were idolising Sylvester Stallone, I was idolising Carl Sagan. And what's more, while my friends were restricted to watching films between the PG and M rating, I was allowed (after much initial nagging) to watch all the gory rated R films of my choosing! A spoilt childhood for sure.

I got my first taste for gore when I saw Aliens in the picture theatre. After that, I had to see Alien. For the first time, I noticed the ratings on the video boxes. I thought, if rated 'M' films would give me cool nightmares, what would rated 'R' films do?!?

So I hired as many as I could. Most were, of course, really crap and included nudity of which at that young age I didn't care to, and was not able to appreciate. But I got a good dosage of blood and guts, cannibalism and bloodletting to get me chuckling and my friends throwing up barbecue flavoured crisp remnants. Most, at first, were Alien ripoffs of the worst kind. For some reason I liked a film with Jack Palance and Martin Landau called Without Warning. Very ominous sounding title for a kid with a single digit age. It involved, you guessed it, a creepy monster out on the hunt, killing a bunch of teenagers. I have purchased a copy for nostalgia value, and was not disappointed (an interesting bit of trivia - the guy who played the creature in this film played the Predator in both the films of the same title and similar theme.)

This started to bore me, so delved more into the classical horror themes. Vampires bored me, and the whole demon possession satan shit I found straight out unscary, even at that age. Ghost movies entertained me somewhat, especially late at night. But the thing that really tickled my gore bone was all the zombie movies out there.

I got my first whiff of the aroma of reanimated dead with Return of the Living Dead. Oh boy did I love this film! Although not completely meeting my stringent requirements (an R rating) the concept of corpses coming out of the ground to munch on my brain was a scary one, and its comedy content only increased its appeal. I even bought the damn book. It must be amongst the first reasonable sized novels I ever read (I think the first was The Hobbit).

From then onwards I discovered Dawn of the Dead. Ooooo! I loved that bit where the frankenstein dude gets his head chopped off by the helicopter blades. The blood was most unconvincing in colour, but it made me want to pleasantly puke all the more. And the sounds of the zombies were gorgeous. All that distorted low growling and moaning really brought home that Zombie image. The idea of a diseased corpse with no mind and no soul wandering around being generally belligerent was fantastic! It truly scared that absolute shit out of me.

I tried my best to get hold of Day of the Dead but never found it until my teenage years. Funnily enough I did, unknowingly, find a copy in a store at Yankalilla, labeled Zombie II. When I saw it I wanted to buy it then and there but my meagre allowance wouldn't allow for it. I would have been even more insistent if I realised that Zombie II was the release name in Europe for Day Of the Dead.

Years after, I was still a zombie fan. My interest even continued when we had a brief revival of the genre a few years ago. I managed to get a book called The Zombie Survival Guide, a spoof on survivalist manuals, written by Max Brooks (Mel Brooks son). It was a good laugh, and my work colleages would ask weird questions about my choice of reading while in the lunch room.

Anyway, bye now.

Todays Gene Ray Timecube Quote!

I just love this quote. Gene Ray is a man who knows just how to get your attention. I'll keep it looking just as big and as eye catching as it is on timecube.com.

DOG BRAIN STUDENTS

Singularity "education" inflicts a dog brain upon Students - ability to be taught servitude - but an inability to ever think opposite of brainwashing and indoctrination - very unlikely to ever recover to acknowledge Nature's Harmonic Simultaneous Rotating 4 Corner 24 Hr. Days in 1 Earth Rotation.

Dr. Gene Ray, Cubic and Wise Above God.
********************************************

Daniel Perez of the Terminator Fame

Like Gene Ray of the Time Cube fame, there once was an absolutely hilarious kook site out there written by one Daniel Lee Perez, called t3armageddon.com. Last time I checked, there was nothing there, but I have to say it was some of the funniest stuff I've ever read. However, one can find a lot of his stuff at archive.org.

http://web.archive.org/web/20001009174731/www.
geocities.com/Hollywood/2900/index.html

and

http://web.archive.org/web/20030805014651/www.
t3armageddon.com/conspira.html

Notice how he has quotes of himself on his pages. Here is one which stands out as particularly hilarious.

Conspiracy Theories are as American as Mom, the Flag and Apple Pie - Daniel Perez

Here is a counter-quote of my own...

I am so damn important that I have to quote myself! - Sprogoloficus Van Dickinyde

Unfortunately, much of the fun material isn't available for viewing anymore so you may not appreciate the amusement he brought the web community with his ongoing battle against the dark forces of Hollywood to have his amateurish script made into Terminator 3 - Armageddon. I came across his 'work' sometime in 1996, typing 'Terminator 3' into one of the early search engines. I was a newbie to the net so I actually spent the time reading his script. At the end of it I couldn't believe that I had wasted valuable minutes of my life reading it. It was terrible. I wrote as much on his guestbook.

Time wore on, and newer updated drafts were placed on the net, each just as silly as the last. The page also blossomed from a mildly nutty HTML joke to an unbelievable festival of madness, obsession and poorly drawn web art. Flashing screens would dazzle your eyes with statements to the effect of 'YOUR MIND IS BEING UPLOADED!' and 'PREPARE FOR THY DOOM!' - statements of that variety. I'm sure kids everywhere had epileptic seizures just at that little intro sequence. I had seizures of laughter all the way through every page.

The page was divided into sections, and each section could be accessed though 'buttons' on a very badly drawn 'computer' (see for yourself). You could laugh at his script, but that was just the beginning. Infact, if the site had nothing more than the script posted, it would not have received nearly as many hits as it did (although how many hits it actually received is debatable as Mr. Perez changed the counter from time to time, perhaps to cunningly fool Hollywood as to the scripts popularity). The fun came from his raving and ranting, and the guestbook comments which people left for him. Sadly, the guestbook is no longer available for viewing but the commentary was absolutely hilarious! I wonder if he actually read them.

Hitting the 'EXPLAIN' button led you to an immensely long, self-obsessed text larger than any yet produced by any blogger anywhere I know of. Daniel refers to himself in the third person yet again as D. L. P. (what a great trade name, Dan! You sounded like one of the real pros!). He sites with his insight into B grade time travel stories how a third movie could be made. In essence, it's the sort of argument my friends young kids came up with - 'If Skynet gotted killed by Sarah Connor in der past, den it diddint eckzist in der future to go and kill Sarah Connor so she couldn't know abbowt it!'. But that isn't such a big deal - the IMDB is the Internet dustbin for shit like that.

The fun begins when he speaks about how he started harassing James Cameron (director of the first two movies) and eventually is told to cease and desist. This 'crushes' him and people start flaming him (a great read if you want to experience a bit of schadenfreude). At one point he is sent some mail, obviously by accident by someone from Lightstorm Entertainment which he states 'subconsciously affected him', encouraging him to buy an Apple Mac to write his crappy script on.

I could spend hours and hours writing about the fun of his old site, but would not have the room. However, I will mention the 'HUMOUR' section. In it is a link to a Terminator 3 Macarena parody, written by, yes, Daniel Perez (referred to in the third person again). In true Internet nut fashion, he marks his scent.

Written by Daniel Perez
Copyright -- October 24th, 1996

Don't want this work of genius to be stolen do we! After all, look at some of the lines in this comedic gem...

I was crushed by Sarah Connor
I came back in the next movie
A good cyborg
Made this way
with the help of James Cameron

and

Daniel Perez will help the Terminator
he wrote Terminator 3 Armageddon
he put it on the Net
and now everyone sees it.

and

The old draft includes the Terminator
and the new script is a lot better
more excitement
more paranoid
Hollywood can't ignore it.
it's coming on all fronts
There's no fate but what we make for ourselves

and finally...

Sent back in time cause he's a Terminator
On a mission to help Dan Perez
Sent back in time cause he's a Termianator
Ehhhh, Terminator

It goes on and on like this. He copyrighted this shit?!? It doesn't even go with the rhythm of the old tune. Fortunately for those who like to laugh at the intellectual misfortunes of others, it is archived at...

http://web.archive.org/web/20030921163738/
www.t3armageddon.com/termmaca.html

Isn't it sad that the actual Terminator 3 was worse than the script by 'D. L. P.'? Predictably enough, Daniel has posted his intent on suing just about everybody involved in the Terminator franchise for plagiarism on the hunt for billions of dollars. You can find it around the net.

I won't even begin with his looney conspiracy theories. If you have the time and patience, read them. And if you really want to scramble your brain, read his Middle East Peace Plan!

I'd love to know what he is doing now. Anyone know, leave a comment!

ADDITION September 14th

I have found a URL with all the DLP Terminator material, even the guestbook.

Click here to read.

Another word for the day - Poppycock.

I bought myself a second hand book once. It was Authur C. Clarke's 'Songs of Distant Earth'. Not a bad read. Someone had scrawled on the inside cover, 'this is simple minded poppycock!'. A brilliant and meaningful critique if I have ever read one.

Sarcasm aside, I thought what sort of dick would use the word poppycock?

I looked into the words origin. Apparently it came from the Dutch word pappekak which translates to SOFT SHIT! Now the word is so much funnier. Those funny funny lovable Dutch.

God god god god god god

I've been away sick from work of late and have had the opportunity to watch crappy midday television. I have come to the conclusion that a big chunk of Americans are crazy.

I watched Oprah and was driven insane by the overuse of the word 'god'. The majoraty of them actually seem to be hard core believers over there. In this day and age! The shows theme was regarding people who have overcome disasters, etc, the usual bullshit. Almost all the guests sited god (the Christian one) as their divine protector, mentioning his great plan for them, and how they pray and actually talk to god. Now in Australia, it is generally regarded than a person who talks to god is a crazy person. They come to your door, knock, and mumble on about bible verses and theocracy. Everybody here just slams the door on them (except for, I assume, their fellow assorted nuts).

At the end of the show, an Australian mountain climber and his friend talked about how one was trapped under a boulder, while the other went for help. Absolutely none of them mentioned god, not even once. The guy trapped under the rock lost both legs, and mentioned the ability of people to be so unbelievably tenacious. I think his words were to the effect that 'people really don't know how strong they really are'. Oprah tried to put a spiritual spin on this, of course, and started interjecting the words 'strength of spirit' as much as possible. He didn't change his stance one bit - there was no god talk from him. Good on him.

Maybe Australians aren't so fucking stupid after all. Now all we have to do is get rid of this idiot, John Howard.

Looking for old schoolfriends

Upon a whim, I decided to see if I could find some old school friends on the internet. Unfortunately, it seems, only the wankers post on the net, and all the normal people (like me!) prefer anonymity. Every site I came across demanded a registration, in which I had to divulge information about myself for the world at large. I didn't particularly want to fill this out, but as I found out, the wanker community were more than willing to post here.

I refused to register. However, my fiancee has more guts and put one up. We had a laugh scanning through some old names. People lie, and the lie is in direct proportion to the level of wankerhood in which they had attained in High School.

I live in Adelaide, as you may know. Adelaide is not a huge city. It is just small enough so that people can tell via the grapevine what you are really doing. So if you are going to tell a lie, you have to lie about employment and achievements outside of South Australia. Unfortunately, the liars aren't very imaginative, and they always seem to opt for 'Sydney'.

In the magical city of Sydney, people have become great architects, authors and CEOs of the entire galaxy. Unfortunately, since I still live relatively near the area of my childhood, and the fact that the hub of Adelaides public transit system, the O-Bahn is right near me, I still see these people every now and again. At the times in which their little fabricated lives are have supposed to have launched off into the world of superachievement.

One famous case lives a few streets down from me. He is still stuck in the nineties, wearing old tattered clothes, with his hair tied back behind his head in some post eighties kind of modern man look. He shambles up to the shops every now and again to buy something when I have a day off. He studiously avoids talking to me, probably to avoid telling me about his employment situation. Now I'm not the type that likes to laugh at other peoples misfortunes in life, but you have to remember, these people were the ultra fashion snobs in my school. Any opportunity to put anyone down was taken by them in order to heighten their social status. They were convinced that they were on the road to stardom in their adulthood. This character was one of the worst, let me tell you.

While he skulked the streets of my neighbourhood, looking bored, he claimed to be the CEO of a computer game company. I might mention that I knew someone indirectly that actually worked for this company (which now doesn't exist), and they had never heard of him. Of course, all this happened in Sydney, at the times in which he was just 'hanging around' my local neighbourhood.

I still see him and his gang every now and again in the city and whatnot. It's actually sad. Each and every one of them, with their thinning hair and sagging skin, dresses in a fashion more or less the same as what they did in high school. They hold on to their glory days of popularity desperately, denying the cold harsh present as much as they possibly can. This happens a lot - people hanging on to their long gone teenage past. Why else would people still drive Toranas and sport mullets in 2006? Time to move on, people.

Enough bullshit. Bye bye.

Gear Grinding

It's weird. I just watched Family Guy and Peter had his own television segment called 'Do You Know What Really Grinds My Gears'. I promise I didn't write the first post becasue of that.

Religious nuts would probably see this as a sign. I wonder what sort?

Word for the day

The word for today is one of my favourites.

Diarrhea


Who says I have to grow up?

Do you know what really grinds my gears?

Empty blogs, that's what.

This blog will probably turn out to be a long catalogue of all my petty hates and slightly inconvenient occurrences that occur throughout my daily life. I don't know how often I post, but it is likely to be in great big blocks every now and again. Many subjects pop into my head right now, but I can't be bothered writing them down as I have a cold (yet again).