I don’t have time to post and now I have to find time to fix up your shitty css updates!

Sincerely,

Tomi

I spend half my time feeling sorry for myself because of the way i see this world..the other half i spend feeling sorry for those who can’t see it this way…

1117 comments….4 updates….3 plugin updates….Sorry for keeping you up dude….

Two ‘revelations’ about myself that people don’t like me saying and always try to come up with alternative explanations that are invariably weak and nothing more than a more wordy version of ‘no you’re not’…

1. I don’t like people…but i can get along with people if need be. There was a point when i couldn’t get along with anyone and struggled, but i worked at it. Now i can and i don’t think i’m any better off for it.
2. I don’t think i present my true self. It’s a tangent to point 1, but in working out how to get along with people i had to become something a bit different, and now i think i do it subconsciously when meeting people…moulding myself to their needs, or what is lacking in the situation. It is not deceptive – i just don’t think i have a true self anymore. Quite liberating if i get to choose i guess. Just how long i’ve felt/known this i don’t know.

From my song book circa 2001:

I don’t know who that i am
I don’t know who i should be
Which version do i show you?
Which one do i believe?

Uncomfortable yet? Even as you read it you are thinking of reassuring things to say. Why? If i said the same things above about someone else you would merely think if those statements apply to that person and evaluate them on their merit…Why not when they are self-describing?

Moving on swiftly…so gang-rape songs…

Actually, the title refers to a conversation with Boychild about the Kenny Rogers song Coward of the County but i’m going to talk about one of his other songs…so it really bares no significance to this post at all. Disappointed? Did you end up here on a google search for gang-rape? Weirdo.

Have you ever listened to the words of the Gambler? I was told by a Kiwi guy i shared a room with when i moved to London who first introduced me to it. Apparently it’s like the unofficial national anthem of New Zealand. Anyway…fairly catchy bonfire, too many beers, sing-along type chorus, but the actual content matter is pure bollocks. Have a look.

On a warm summer’s evenin’ on a train bound for nowhere

Seem’s an odd train to catch really. I mean you can’t help but feeling this is where his troubles started

I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.

Apparently only insomniacs board destinationless trains…people that have slept can read the schedule and wait for the right one

So we took turns at starin’ out the window at the darkness

Destinationless trains tend to have really tiny windows…

’til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.

Kenny was obviously still captivated by the darkness through the tiny window and was ready to hold out for a bit longer

He said, “Son, I’ve made a life out of readin’ people’s faces,

I’m not your kid…i’m freaking 50 years old…check my beard out…it’s all grey and shit.

and knowin’ what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.

Seriously, i’m probably closer to 100…unless you’re the emperor from Star Wars i think you have to respect me biatch

And if you don’t mind my sayin’, I can see you’re out of aces.

Thanks captain obvious, i’m on a train going nowhere apparently with only a little bit of whiskey and a really tiny window

For a taste of your whiskey I’ll give you some advice.”

Yeah seems like a fair deal…

So I handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.

Cunt.

Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.

Anything else you want there chief…my first born?

And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.

You say Whiskey, i say Rufies…

Said, “If you’re gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

My rufies…my rules….boy

You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em,
know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you’re sittin’ at the table.
There’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done.

For the last of my whiskey i was kind of hoping you would tell me when to hold, fold and run? No?

Ev’ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin’
is knowin’ what to throw away and knowing what to keep.

Yeah i understood that part in the chorus, but i clearly don’t know. So are you going to tell me or you just want more of my shit?

‘Cause ev’ry hand’s a winner and ev’ry hand’s a loser,
and the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep.”

I’m not much of a gambler but i’ve got to say it doesn’t sound much of a hobby. I whittle. The best i hope for is a nice piece of wood really.

And when he’d finished speakin’, he turned back towards the window

That’s it? That’s the end of your advice? I want my Whiskey back.

crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.

…my cigarette….

And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.

What do you mean somewhere in the darkness…how big is this cabin? and why does it have such tiny windows if it’s so big? Who dies right after a story? Did he look sick Kenny? Did you just sit there and watch the man die? Too much rufalin?

But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep.

Whiskey/Rufies, cigarettes and a light…Kenny gets a second chorus..

You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em,
know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you’re sittin’ at the table.
There’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done.

And the only person who knew when to hold, fold and run just died. This is the worst train trip ever!

Have you ever watched old people? I mean not just watching them as they walk at an ever decreasing pace in front of you. I mean i walk slow but i’ve seen retarded, one-legged ants cover a greater distance than some of them. They would probably be able to move faster if they just jumped and let the earth’s rotation move underneath them. But i mean proper watched them from some vantage point? waiting for a train or something like that? Sooner or later they will stop and check what they’re doing…as if they are not 100% sure they should be doing it. Like when they randomly stop everyone around you at the airport to get their bag swabbed and you’re not really sure if you are allowed to walk through or they are going to call in special ops to hunt you down…

I watched this guy today, walking along carrying a bag. After about 10 metres he stopped looked down at the bag…brought it up towards his face a little for closer inspection…obviously was happy that it was in fact a bag…then lowered it again, this time trailing his eyes from his hand up past his wrist, via the elbow and then into his chest as if to say…will you look at that…it’s me holding that, that is. Should i be holding it? I don’t know. But i am…and then continued to walk on. Either this was his first successful attempt at carrying a bag, or he was merely confirming his own actions. Like he may have just forgotten that he was walking carrying a bag.

I shouldn’t take the piss out of old people, being all senile and stuff. Could happen to anyone i guess. I’ve always found the best present to give older people are memories. I mean they are 100 years old and stuff so probably have everything by now anyway…so give them a memory. The classy thing is, that if they do have a bit of the senile about them, you don’t even have to give them their own memories…or yours. Just make shit up. Remember that time when we went to Antarctica together? That was grouse. Yeah remember the camera froze over so we lost all our photos. You were so funny…what you did to that eskimo…sorry Inuit. We certainly learn’t that one the hard way didn’t we… ha ha ha. Well, see you next Christmas!

You may have noticed i tend to swear a lot. To quote my Mum’s words:

“It’s ok, i won’t stop you writing like that cause i don’t have time to read it anyway.”

I mean with those sorts of glowing references you can see why i like writing.

“But you know…girls don’t really like…you know…THAT word…”

It’s kind of cute that my Mum assumes this is the way i’m pulling chicks. Kind of cute but somewhat alarming…

But see what i don’t get is people that swear in print, but they do it with like weird characters replacing the letters but so you still know what they are saying. The ONLY reason to do this is to avoid swear filters at work and that sort of thing. I understand that. That’s when umlauts and special characters come in handy.

Sh!t Fück Cünt Ärse P€nis Lädyb!ts etc.

But why do it on other mediums…texts, wastebook etc? What is the purpose. Do these people think that actually seeing the word is worse than the meaning behind it? Who are these cretins? How did the world end up this way?

Sally Spastic is f%&ked off at her sl&tty friends!

We clearly know what you are saying, so just say it you retard. Is this like some weird way of saying, look don’t get me wrong…and then berating someone?

I hope people don’t think i’m rude but… Tomi Hendrix f%&king hates you. Hates that you breathe the same air as him and wishes you to choke and die you f$%king c#%k-stain c%&t!

Going back to that bag-swabbing bit at the airport, i’ve been flying a lot recently and so have gotten used to the routine of security check-in and what have you. I’ve even bought a little netbook thingy for when i’m waiting at airports. So anyway i went to check-in the other day at Frankfurt and took my laptop out and they pulled me over to the side and said we’re just going to need to test your laptop for a bit. I’m like fine. But as we’re walking over i started thinking…i wonder what my last webpage was… if they open it up it’s just going to come up with the browser…fuck i hope it’s not Stella’s Lesbian Adventures…

How successful is this test anyway? Who is making bombs and says, hang on a minute…i might just go check Facebook?

John Smith became a fan of over-the-counter fertilizer, Hydrogen Peroxide, and Sixteen other pages.

What, John Smith can’t be a terrorist too? Racist pricks!

Speaking of stereotypes, took my seat on the plane the other night on the way to London. 24B if i’m not mistaken. Watching this blonde surfie chick walking down the aisle looking at the row numbers. She stops in the row ahead of me and says to the girl by the window – ummm i think you’re in my seat? – and shows the girl her boarding pass.

“Your seat is 10C. 23A is the gate…”

Bless.

As much as i’d like to write right now i just want to sleep to be honest and the temptation of stretching out across the 4 seats is too much for me to bear with. I’m going to watch a bit of Shrek Forever After while i wait for them to collect the trays..i didn’t see the second one but i trust it doesn’t rely too much on an ongoing storyline. It’s about Wayne Rooney being married to that Belgian tennis player right? That’s the problem with flying so much with the one airline in the same month…i’ve seen just about every one of their movies worth seeing. On the way from Perth i watched two movies…um…Iron Man 2…again…and some other one that slips my mind at the moment…must have been special.

Old Soundgarden was pretty good…i wonder if we could all chip in and pay for Chris to get his head surgically reduced so that we can get it out of his arse…

Perth was pretty good in the end…though i wish i had a bit longer. We had breakfast slash lunch on the beach…im not calling it brunch cause i would have to punch myself in the throat if i said we had brunch…pretentious fucks! AND..we even got to see some whales…not every day you see some whales while you’re having lunch…possibly while having brunch though…AND we were greeted by a Ukulele quartet playing Richie Valens or something…today was a good day.

So i slept about 6 hours i guess? Watched the second half of Shrek…Shrek dies.

Oh yeah, spoiler alert…Sorry my bad.

I hate fuckers wearing scarves, but i hate fuckers even more who wear scarves and t-shirts…

People were a lot happier back home than here. A lot friendlier and helpful as well. It’s not this prescribed friendliness either…you know where you are expected to say hello and good morning when entering and leaving an elevator, doctor’s surgery etc…That’s why i won’t go to doctors over here. I’d rather be sick than be forced to speak to people i ordinarily wouldn’t be talking to, just because i’m in the same room as them. It’s like running into Aussies overseas, or worse, someone that you went to school with. I was watching this Aussie band doing an acoustic set in some pub in London once and went to the jacks. This fella behind me just says “Tomi Hendrix.”
I turn around, “Ahh yeah..”
“You don’t know me but i know you. I was at your school a few years below you.”
“Fucking awesome. Now if you don’t mind i have my cock in my hand and it sounds like you may have even been stalking me at some point so i’d kind of like to go now.”
“We should catch up sometime and have a beer?”
“Yeah that’d be swell.”

Tossbag. I mean if i didn’t know you, let alone speak to you at school, what makes you think i want to speak to you now?

But at home it just felt nicer. It wasn’t forced. People just helped you, had little jokes with you. Were friendly. Were aware of their space. I miss that. I don’t want to be here any more.

I can not watch this enough..

So i just picked up a copy of Drum Media…for the non-Aussies (my entire audience) it’s a free newspaper in pubs and cafe’s and music stores etc that just covers live music and cd releases etc…i’d forgotten how good it is. They should take this shit global. I’m on about page three and they have a half page advert for Manning Bar which was one of the shitty bars at my uni..it was full of pretentious wankers, but not the poncy type…the other type…the professional student hippy save the seahorses vegan neo-political fuckwits. I probably should have put post-something in there as well…Professional student hippy save the seahorses vegan neo-political post-anarchic fuckwits. Them.

Anyway apparently now they have pretty decent bands. According to this ad they will showcase Regurgitator, the New Pornographers, and the Misfits, plus a whole heap of other American and Swedish bands…wtf? I would never have passed uni if the bar had bands every night. I did get to see Screaming Jets..well two songs before i got kicked out at a uni party. Apparently you shouldn’t tell the supporting act that they are shit and should play some pilots…repeatedly..

Hah Club Blink is opening again…wonder how long it will last this time…that’s the first place i ever danced!

Anyway back to my post..

31 songs…Is this the Hornby book you were reading Squires? I read the book but didn’t really take much from it. It kind of suggested to me that he wanted to paint himself as a music snob – which im all for – and i can see from his other books that he is very knowledgeable and opinionated on the topic, but it just didn’t really go anywhere. I just don’t remember coming away with an overriding feeling from the book of…oh that’s what it was about, it Kind of just meanders on. Maybe i should read it again, it has been some years since i put the book down for the last time. I think i bought it at the airport when i left Australia for the first time.

From memory he was linking some songs throughout his childhood / experiences to key moments? Like i said i could be way off there, but that’s the theme i am going to run with today so let’s just pretend. You see i seem to have associated various songs with different girls / women who have had an impact on my life. Some good, some bad, but an impact all the same. The girls themselves have a different amount of significance, sometimes they get a song, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they get two songs. Deal with it.

Mostly the connection seems to be some sort of imaginary scenario in my head where i am called upon to woo them in some penultimate scene of a movie – when the chips were down, in a last ditch effort..he grabbed his axe and strode toward the stage….. You know something cheesy like that. Like an 8-mile make-or-break kind of deal. For other’s it is more a chance to unleash the rage built up inside of me, to give my 2 cents. Sometimes the lyrics just make me think of them, and if i were to perform the song live i would need to give them that dedication introduction that messes with the bootleggers…do i cut off the previous track at the start of the song, or before the introduction? If i leave it at the end it’s going to piss off a lot of shuffle listeners…

For anonymity reasons i’m not going to mention the names of the girls, though the more astute of you will probably be able to pick out some of them. Like i said, some people get two songs and the temptation is to write about them together but that might provide more clues as to the identity of the person. Plus if i stretch it out it looks like i have had more relationships with chicks…play-yer…

Love Song – The Cure

A song as obvious as this can’t really be tied down to one individual, yet there is a depth to the opacity of the lyrics which kind of strikes me. I never really liked the Cure till i heard the acoustic supplement to their Greatest Hits album which made me appreciate them a little bit more. I sit here at the moment without Internet, and my iPod is at my sister’s place, so when i try to remember the lyrics all i keep getting is A Perfect Circle’s mash of it with Diary of a Madman which is perhaps even more poignant..

Sanity now is beyond me, I will always love you, there’s no choice.

Raconteurs – Old Enough

There’s not much really i could explain about this one that the lyrics don’t already.

You look pretty in your fancy dress, but i detect unhappiness.
You don’t speak so i have to guess, you’re not free.
Maybe when you’re old enough. You’ll realise you’re not so tough.
Sometimes the seas get rough, you’ll see.

I hope you do see.

Trouble – Todd Snider

A woman like you walks in a place like this, You can almost hear the promises break.
You’re gonna make me do something, That I’m afraid I won’t regret.

It says it all really. Some people are just made to affect those around them…whether the affected likes it or not.

Welcome Home – Coheed and Cambria

You could have been all i wanted, but you weren’t honest, now get in the ground!
You choked off the surest of favours, but if you really loved me you would have endured my world.
Well if you’re just as I presumed, A whore in sheep’s clothing Fucking up all I do
And if so, here we stop. Then never again Will you see this in your life…

Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t've) – The Buzzcocks

You spurn my natural emotions, You make me feel like dirt And I’m hurt
And if I start a commotion, I run the risk of losing you And that’s worse.

I ran the risk. I can’t believe someone can die twice…

Want You Bad – The Offspring

Your one vice, Is you’re too nice

Either i’m going to have to dramatically change, or she will. We get on pretty good, but just opposite ends of the spectrum. You’re just too good for me. It’s not right. Dye your hair, eat a pizza, get drunk and we’ll talk!

It’s Been a While – Staind

It’s been a while since i’ve gone and fucked things up, just like i always do.
It’s been a while and i can still remember just the way you taste

I think she liked this song more than i did, but it still makes me think of her every time i hear it…ergo, it makes the list.

Can’t Change Me – Chris Cornell

I’m almost ashamed to put a Chris Cornell song in the list since he’s turned out to be an utter cockstain…but if i was ever to be performing a gig somewhere and noticed this girl in the crowd i would have to play this song and ‘dedicate it to someone who is here tonight…good luck with being you. I used to like who you are, not who you try to be…’

But wait, just one minute here i can see that she’s trying to read me.
Suddenly i know, she’s going to change the world, but she can’t change me.

Talking to a Brick Wall – Cooper Temple Clause

small things about you excite me, but then i’d hate to spoil the tone

Sometimes you know it’s wrong…you know it probably shouldn’t happen, you know you really shouldn’t even try…but deep down inside you can’t help but wonder what it might turn out like. It’s fine just the way it is. Just leave it. Don’t rock the boat. But…

I’m Lonely (But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet) – The White Stripes

This one goes out to a whole bunch of people really…i think it makes me think of a whole bunch of people and not necessarily just my Mum and Sister who are explicitly mentioned.

I roll over in bed, Looking for someone to touch
There’s a girl that I know of that don’t ask for much
She’s homely, and she’s cranky And her hair’s in a mess
And I’m lonely, but I ain’t that lonely yet

On a side note, I love Odette Yustman. Just saying…

Ok the clip below is something my sister just showed me. It’s got a fair bit of an introduction so either skip to when they are in the van or just put up with it. It’s well worth it. I wee’d a little. No idea if that needs an apostrophe or not but it looks really wrong when i take it out…it’s probably not even a real word.

Is it dangerous?
No ma’am, just bothersome…
What does it do?
You will feel eternally tired

I sort of have this recurring dream/premonition before i go to concerts of bands that i like. It doesn’t happen before every concert just some of them. I know Silk has had a similar dream so i’m probably not alone here. The dream is that something happens where i am called upon to finish off one of the band’s songs or the rest of their set or something like that. The closest i got to it becoming true was – believe it or not – at a Greenday concert…now this was before the eye make-up and generational, anthemic, politics-for-dummy’s dribble they are releasing now…but pretty fucking close to it all the same.

Anyways i’d taken this girl who i was silly enough to have a crush on for 10 years and her friend and we had gotten split up at some point after the first few minutes. Midway through the gig a crowdsurfer landed on my head from behind. I must have been mid-way through singing about the myth of Masturbation sending you blind my mouth slammed shut and bit through my tongue. Two teeth on either side went completely through my tongue and touched in the middle. The next two teeth went in top and bottom and almost touched, and then the next one’s just went in at the top i think. Needless to say my mouth completely filled with blood. But stuck in a moshpit there was naff-all that i could really do. Except swallow. So i kept swallowing.

Anyway i decided that i didn’t really fancy the show that much that i wanted to keep getting hit so i started making my way back far enough that i could watch in peace. Two song’s later they have one of those break down moments when the drummer and bassist just keep playing some melody and the guitarist/frontman felates his own ego. I think this one even included a sing-along with refrain and some joke about an Ozzy Osbourne song leading into a rant about all rock song’s being just G, C and D chords. Anyway at the end of said rant a powerdrunk Billie Joe asked the audience if anyone out there played guitar?

Of course we do dipshit…doesn’t everyone?

Alarm bells were ringing though so i began making my way forward, sensing this could be my time. Then he said the immortal words ‘well, we’re looking for someone to come up and finish off this next song for us!’ And that was it…the push was on. I flung women and children out of the way. Knocked down cripples…they didn’t put up much of a fight. I was maybe 20 metres from stage which is a fair amount in a crowd by the time he pulled up Sally or Kate or whatever this bint’s name was. The aforementioned bint gets on stage and they go through the motions of introductions. Anyway bint has allegedly played guitar for 5 years. So he tells her the chords as he drapes his BJ Fender Squier or whatever it is over her shoulder. The tension mounts as she drops the ball on a G-Chord. Seriously it’s like the first one you learn! To a chorus of boos she is unceremoniously ejected from the stage.

I think i realised a second or two before everyone else which helped me get the drop on the masses as i had gained another 5 meters or so when he said ‘ok we’ll give this one more go’… This time i was just scything people down to get closer to the stage. Enter Shayno from the central coast. Now everyone knows an area near where they lived which is just full of deadshits. Well the Central Coast is Sydney’s version. So Shayno gets up and makes some ridiculous hand gesture as he proudly states his place of origin before Billie again drapes the guitar over him. Crushingly, Shayno knows the required 3 or 4 power chords to finish the song. Billie sends him stage-diving off into Andy Warhol super-stardom…

Why that could have been me!

Anyway i guess the overriding theme to take from that story is that people have dreams of one day fulfilling the roles of the people they go to see performances of…would be the main jist of that story to take home with you.

Do you think then, that people who attend bullfights in Spain are thinking…you know what…i’d really like to get up there and give it a go…you know if that matador guy gets injured and they need someone to finish the show…i reckon i could do it?

Now’s your chance Pedro..

Full credit to the guy who was holding on to his tail though. Respect.

That was quite a build up wasn’t it. I give it a 7.

Two days ago i was in London, for a one night stopover for work to learn some stuff that i need to teach some people in Hong Kong next month. What happened? We went out for a few drinks and the person who was supposed to teach me never made it in the next day. I should be fine right? So i had a normal day at work and was supposed to meet a mate for a beer then hang out in the business class lounge just to see how the other side live. Fast forward to when i’m waiting for the aforementioned friend and i decide to double-check my printout to see how much time we have to drink. Turns out i’d been looking at the arrival time. Time to get the fuck out of dodge.

Fast forward a bit further an i’m scrambling for sleep at home with the promise of a late shift the following day beckoning, and only two more days till my Mum arrives for three weeks of travel through the Scottish Highlands and visiting the relo’s in Austria. I awake to a phone call from my Sister to say that Mum has broken her leg on a train and the doctors are refusing to let her travel.

My mind goes into overdrive. I have three main options. A) Cancel my holidays and go into work to help out the guys with their new roll-out plans… B) Keep my holidays and do the things i had booked with Mum anyway and fill in the gaps with some trips to Old Trafford or something…or C) Cancel everything and high-tail it to Oz…

No-brainer!

So now i’m sitting on a plane with the sudden realisation that i will be home in a day or so… Was there a board meeting at Qantas at some stage where some young upstart thought it would be a good idea to enrich the on-board entertainment radio channels with intermittent static to give the effect of Vinyl? If so it appears he was overruled by some geriatric who decided the gramophone needed a comeback…seriously..what the fuck? The movie channels are fine.

I have to warn you about my writing style at the moment though. I’m easily influenced by what i do, read, write and see, when it comes to creating my own work. Look at my accent…this is not a conscious effort on my part..this is just how it happens…like a Lufthansa cancellation policy…this is just how it is. Whatever i read or watch seems to influence how i tend to write. So keep in mind i’ve been watching mainly Family Guy every night before falling asleep. Anyone who gets a chance to read my journal can probably pick the time-frame when i was reading Kurdt’s journals.

After 5 beers and two red wines, Hot Tub Time Machine is a great movie. Only time will tell if i was swayed by the bottle…John Cusack is good. Good. The best adjective i have at my disposal at this time. Now I’m watching the A-team and keeping the people to my left and right awake with my ultra-backlit screen.

I’m finding myself increasingly sympathising with the fat nerdy characters in movies…Alan from The Hangover is my idol..but the fat kid from Hot Tub Time Machine and Kick Ass is holding his own in the stakes for my undying partiality. Third movie in a row…The Green Zone. Seriously..currency plates? Haven’t i seen this before? I don’t even think this was a movie…it may have just been an episode of Jag or something…

This is my first time flying standby by myself…usually i have Phong to guide me and run with the ball. I’m not ungrateful for the discount from Leish…far from it…i just don’t think i’m cut out for the standby game. It’s why i’m not cut out for the contracting game. Sure the financial benefits of both are great, but the positives don’t outweigh the negatives for someone who puts very little worth on fiscal buoyancy.

Phong had a good theory today as to why i am perennially late for flights. When other people are involved, i’m like an hour early and everything organised…to compensate. When i’m left up to my own devices i just don’t care enough what happens to divert the resources towards the goal…if it doesn’t work for me it doesn’t work and was probably not meant to be. It’s fatalism with a splash of indifference.

So speaking as someone who is perennially late to flights i don’t think i’ve ever been more pissed off at late-comers than watching the smarmy bastards walking through security to the gate tonight with 20 minutes to go before take-off. It’s a fucking International flight! One of the longest flights you can possibly take. Where were the Heathrow Terminal 5 tyrant fuckers when you need them? Fucks sake i went and bought another ticket and still made it through check in and they wouldn’t let me in and these fuckers just waltz through like its the Wigan defence on one of the days that they don’t pull a victory out of their arse.

By the way..the plan is to stay awake for the entire Frankfurt Singapore Leg…in the hope that i can sleep the second leg and wake up on Australian time. Stay tuned for more sleep deprived hilarity. I’ve been up for 21 hours as it stands….

Of course this could all go tit’s up if i don’t get the next flight. Then i have to wait up till the following morning or shell out for a hotel in Singland. Exactly how respectable do i have to look to get on these Standby flights? Stay tuned…

So i just completed a master-course in cinematic endurance. My word i’ve seen some bad movies but having just persevered through Russell Crowe’s Robin Hood i feel am capable of withstanding anything. Surely this is one of the levels of hell. Seriously, this is the most fetid, pompous tripe i have ever seen on the screen. Russ must have been sitting there with his other Kiwi buddies watching a Marathon of 300, Gladiator – probably more than once – and Braveheart and thought…why can’t i make a movie like this? But you can Russ! I don’t know though…seems like a lot of work. Remember Gladiator? That took fucking forever. Alright, let’s save some time then and just redo a movie that’s already been done….several times….and use the cinematic experience from all these other movies that have also been done…many times over. Ok i’m warming to the project…do we have to do anything to it? I don’t know…maybe we just change it up a bit…make a few changes here and there. OK like what? Well….what parts do people like of 300? Well the fights scene’s Russ. Well let’s just have a lot of fight scenes. Fuck it, make Maid Marion fight. And that fat cunt Tuck. He can fight too. I like it Russ…but what makes that different from Kevin Costner’s one? Besides the lack of a Brian Adam’s soundtrack? Not a whole lot…hmmm. Ok what about….bare with me….what about…we make him hardly ever use a bow and arrow throughout the movie. Seriously…we can have him kill people with swords and spears and axes and shit like that.

Then it’s Gladiator you dickhead.

I think the only way this movie experience could have been worse is had i been watching it on a Ryanair flight into or out of Germany so that clap-happy audience could clap all the way through every time Russ delivers a load of wank speech in the stylee of Mel…what is it with all the Australian wannabe’s trying to make epic films? The only surprise was that he didn’t try to write the score for the film or include a few tracks from 30 Odd foot of grunt on the soundtrack…

Me to old biddy #1 to my left: That baby has not made a sound all flight…it’s incredible
Old biddy #1: Apparently it’s done like 30 flights or so.
Amazed me: Fuck off!
Old biddy #2: She’s 13 months old…*Turns to father/Son in law* How many flights has she done?
Father of the year: This is her 52nd flight… She’s clocked over 140,000 air miles
Aussie lad in row behind: Fuck, that’s child abuse…

Father of the year didn’t get it….

So i finally land after 23 hours in the air. Do the rounds to the parents houses and a bit of shopping as i only bought one pair of pants and managed to get chocolate on them during the flight. We have Father’s day lunch at some schmick restaurant on the water before heading back to my sister’s gaff. The 18th wind has kicked in now as we head to the pub to watch the mighty dragons slay the rabbitohs. Minor premier’s this year…still even diehard fans are trying to work out if it will be the first or second round when the inevitable choke occurs.

Roughly 50 hours awake in total…

What i might do, is try to remember some stories here and there from June and beyond…whenever the last time i wrote was, and just try to serialize them in shortened form, rather than my usual long drawn out flowery monologues. How does that work? To be honest i had the urge to write a novel while i was away in South Africa and actually came up with a fairly decent storyline, but lacking paper or a laptop it has descended further into the grey airy mist of my head. Something i’ve never done, write fiction that is. Definitely on my list of things to do, but when i don’t have the time to write a paragraph on here then i’m not sure when that will actually happen. Watch this space…indefinitely.

Alright i better go have a quick peek at what i wrote last time…for the sake of continuity and all.

Well i renewed my website as you can tell…money well spent i say. This post has set me back about €20.

Shit! It was all the way back in May?? I can’t even remember last week let alone a few months ago. That’s just not going to work. Ok scrap May and let me think of something i did in June that was humorous…

Well at the beginning of the month i went to Budapest for Murphy’s stag do. I was a bit hesitant to go at first…until i read the email from the guy organising it…then i was really hesitant! (Edit: A ‘contributor’ of mine reworded the email slightly and i had intended pasting it here for you viewing pleasure, but wussed out at the last minute in case any others of the attendees found my page via wastebook. Email me if you’d like to read it.)

But i’m glad that i went in the end. I had a good time and i think Murph did. There are a few things that will stay in Budapest as the old adage goes, but then i guess it wouldn’t be much of a stag do if they was nothing to be ashamed of.

I did however manage to break my camera which was not ideal timing considering i was heading to the World cup in South Africa in three days’ time.

I also managed to maintain my loving relationship with insect bites. On the final day we were lying in a park killing some time before heading out to the airport. I was bitten by something on the arm. Now i reckon it may have been a spider in the end but the doctor’s official wisdom said it was a mosquito carrying an infection. Some infection! My arm swelled up like popeye! So i ended up getting fairly hard antibiotics/antihistamines to bring the swelling down. So all in all i was set up well for the debauchery that would take place in a few days’ time in South Africa….

Tune in sometime in 2012 when i find the time to continue with that story!

So here are some random points from my blog.txt that i can’t be bothered expanding on:

More Denglish past-tense words that annoy me: Getoasted. Toasted is already past tense. You have re-past-ed it.

If we’re not supposed to judge a book by it’s cover, why do people spend so much time designing covers and making them look attractive?

Lyrics taken out of context: After that shit got sour – I’m not sure we should be using adjectives of taste to describe fecal matter.

ummm how am i doing on length here? Do you feel cheated yet? Ok let me finish off with something with a bit more thought put into it.

In some ways the meaning of this song may have been spoilt by me having grown up in a city as large as Sydney. I mean the meaning is still there, especially having left my city, but I think the real striking thing of this song is the familiarity of a small town, especially coupled with the memories of a person. Squires might get this, but i don’t know how big bum-fuck is/was till i have been there. Next year?

The first time i heard this version of the song i cried. Not because of the movie, i think just the version of the song used in the movie. I’d always known the song, and that it is my Dad’s favourite, but never really connected to it until now. To hear it sung by a children’s choir and still have the same relation to the meaning of the song gave it a sense of timelessness.

I’m not going to post the lyrics here but you can read through them here: http://www.coldchisel.com.au/l1_flametress.html

Annoyingly, they’ve disabled the embedding feature for the Little Fish version but please watch it here first: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_dMhnsatKrM

Non-Australian’s probably won’t like the original which i have put below. Picture the Boss’ ‘Glory Days’ and substitute Australiana for Americana.

I hate people that spell loser as looser! You sir are a loser! Courtney Love is looser. Actually Courtney Love is a looser loser.

What’s a foot doctor called? Podiatrist or Paediatrician? I need one, and i want to be sure i’m getting the right person. My feet are awful…one of them in particular. It has this kind of growth thing over the heel. i need about 3 months in flip-flops i think and am hoping to get a subscription for it. Havianas as a tax write-off…nice.

I’ve noticed i subconsciously manage to find reasons to justify my unjustifiable hatred of people. Example. The other morning i walked to the train station and there was a geezer standing in my spot. I’m not OCD or anything, but i am a creature of habit. So here’s this LOSER standing exactly where i stand every morning…surely he has seen me before? Anyway whilst i was forced to stand in my backup spot – which is nowhere near as cool as my usual spot – i noticed i just began singling out things about him which annoyed me. At one point he got out his blackberry and i had to really concentrate to figure out if i really did hate all blackberry users, or, if i had suddenly just developed this hatred on the spot to vindicate my hatred for him standing in my spot?

My mind wandered off before i could fully explore this conundrum but if i had to take a 50/50 for the television viewers even though i’ve already taken the cash i’d have to say i hate all blackberry users….

Then there was this guy to my left who was just pacing…i mean proper walking in circles of about a 2 meter radius and at a decent pace mind you. He was just plain weird. I decided not to hate him just in case he wasn’t all there. You have to be careful throwing your hate around willy nilly as people tend to judge you when you openly hate ‘disadvantaged people’. They have this universal immunity, kind of like Seth Efricans…

People like that last guy though intrigue me, as does anything that doesn’t add up. I find i get bogged down on little trivial things, just because they don’t add up, or fit the pattern. As soon as something makes sense to me, i put it to the back of my mind and find something else to normalise. Like at lunch the other day, we walked past a smart car with an Opel sticker on the back. That just didn’t make sense to me so i couldn’t let it slide. I found myself running through different scenarios of how or why this might have happened. It’s not like i cared…if i came across the answer i probably wouldn’t give it a second thought. until then though it just bothers me. I’m the same with people. If their words don’t add up to their actions i start theorizing. I’m not suspicious i just want to know how things work. I’m not as bad as a Psych degree pigeonholing people who stray away from the norm, but i do want to know why? Once i know why i couldn’t care less if they stayed that way or not.

I think this idiosyncrasy of mine would come in handy if me and Squires fully develop out Bourne-Stylee training. Do you remember in the Bourne movies how Matt Damon bangs on about all the things he notices when he walks into a room, like the exits, how many cars are in the parking lot, how many miles he could run flat out at this altitude etc… well we think there can be a practical application of such a skill. Imagine using the ‘Bourne Method’ (patent pending) when entering your local bar.

One could tell you instantly:

• Where the exits are
• Closest methods of transport away from the pub
• Areas where it might be possible to smoke inside the pub
• Areas outside the pub where the smoking of both legal and/or illegal substances is likely to take place
• Who i could bum a cigarette off if needed to impress a girl
• Which girls i fancy in the room, in order of preference / attainability
• Who i could probably go home with if i was drunk enough and needed a place to stay
• Which lads are likely to kick off in a fight
• Which lads are likely to back you up if a fight kicks off which involves me
• Where the toilets are, and the approximate amount of time it would take to get there pending an explosion from either end.

I’m sure we came up with more but i can’t think of them now and have already given too much time to this already. If you can remember any more, comments form below!

I hate how at work every day, some of the lights don’t come on properly in the morning, so it is really only half bright – not that you can really notice mind you, until the missing ones gradually kick in several hours later….every day….which is met by sarcastic cheers from the traders….every day. Never get tired of that one….

Handy tip for you. When you are working in a German office and the air conditioners suddenly come on at full power and your colleague jokes that someone has just requested air, do not reply with “either that or we are being gassed….”. The innocence and naivety with which it was said may be misinterpreted.

You know when bands put a little short introduction to a song on their albums but they keep this as a separate track from the actual track itself? Ordinarily this does not have any impact and will blend in seamlessly…unless you have your ipod on shuffle and it puts one of the aforementioned introductions from, say, Body Count, leading into a completely different song from, say, Simon & Garfunkel…

“The problem isn’t the lyrics on the records,
its the fear of the white kids likin’ a black artist.
But the real problem is the fear of the white girl
fallin in love with the black man.
And here’s to you Mrs Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know…“

I cant believe how many Germans ride bikes with headphones on…for a people so anal about sticking to the rules you’d think they might pay attention the the ones where you don’t die if you get it wrong.

So, probably the reason why people love Coheed and Cambria and hate them at the same time…find below one of their song’s off the Neverender cd’s with everything from duelling Guitars, a talk box, singing into the pickups, a theremin, drum and bass solos etc… enjoy!