There is a sign at my local tube station that reads something like:

“Walk carefully on the escalators – last month 34 serious injuries, 1 fatality.”

I don’t know if I should be more cautious of the evidently lethal metal stairs or the apparent hordes of retards surrounding me that are using them.

I met my first lacrosse douche the other day having only ever seen them in American teen coming of age movies. This specimen was stretching before boarding a train? I guess they are all douches.

Things i hate:

• Denim dan’s. Not cool unless you’re from a hick town that has banned dancing and you’re going to attempt to remedy the situation by playing chicken on a tractor…
• Sitting across from a coffee drinker on the bus in a morning.
• When the aforementioned coffee drinker also smokes.
• People that have headphones on while sitting with their friends…who also smoke and drink coffee.

Things I like:

• Critiquing the prawn sitting opposite to me on the bus on my blackberry and occasionally looking past him ‘out the window’ for inspiration to finish my ‘email’…
• Reading the instructions on things which are fairly intuitive to use, just see how close to the mark I am.
• Finding out I have been using dishwashing liquid correctly.
• That wave of air that follows a girl a second or so after she walks past you that carries her perfume.

You don’t need to be a genius to figure out who this song reminds me of.

Do you remember, nothing stopped us on the field in our day…

Again, my concept of that movie is fairly limited…she just misses a train and the movie splits in two – how her life is by not making the train and how her life would have been if she had of made it? Pretty weak premise for a movie but i guess you don’t really find mindfucks in the romantic drama genre. Anyway, i kind of wonder sometimes if the letters i write are better off left unsent.

The majority of them are never read by anyone other than myself but occasionally when push comes to shove i will have to send them. I can’t say that it has entirely worked out for the good on most of those times.In fact sometimes i wonder just what life would be like had i not sent them. Still, you live and learn. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger…One in the hand is worth two in the bush…hung for a lamb, hung for a sheep….too many cook spoil the broth…

I don’t think the intention of this song is to make people sad. I actually really like the song, particularly the Nouvelle Vague cover of it. But every time after i hear this i can’t help going over and over in my head every failed relationship i’ve had…what went wrong and then the inevitable retaliatory apathy towards the girl, followed by numbness, followed by some pre-meditated feeling of contempt towards her for not choosing me, followed by a rolling wave of regret and self-pity followed by a (usually false) feeling of superiority and realisation that she was never worth it to begin with and i shouldn’t have ever felt anything for her. Yeah it’s cathartic…

More things that piss me off at the moment

- Frodo
- Tim Burton’s Planet of the Apes
- When a shitty song that you didn’t even know you had on your ipod comes on and appears to be 3 decibels louder than anything else you have on your ipod and  there are too many people on the bus preventing you from pulling your ipod out of your pocket and pressing skip. So now Johnny random next to me thinks i’m  into Kylie Minogue…
- Going to sleep when the sun is still up
- TV shows like CSI and such that can ‘zoom in’ and ‘clear up’ cctv footage. Why then are we still looking at blurry pictures on crimewatch?
- When people answer an either/or question with ‘yes’. Which one dickhead?
- Men’s clothes. I went shopping recently to get some trousers for a party and the only two styles the stores seemed to have was one called ‘Skinny Carrot’,  and some other style that is only suitable for a skinny bow-legged jockey.

A song that makes you happy…I think this might be the toughest one for me to decide. Happiness is not something i can relate to, it’s too abstract. I can think of song’s that make me smile or laugh but is that really happiness? I need something tangible…Euphoric? Sure i could come up with a song that elicits a drug-like response, but happiness? Happy like what?

Even if i think how other people might answer this i struggle. Say some do-gooder out there thinks of Louis Armstrong’s Wonderful world for example. I don’t think that song makes me happy. If anything it makes me think of the all the shitty things going on that don’t match up to the illusion of the song. If i think of a song to remind me of someone or something good, invariably it is back home in Oz and it saddens me that i’m not there.

So i began making a shortlist of songs. Blind Melon, No rain? Hardly a happiness inspiring song, though quite a happy melody. Sneaker Pimps 6 underground? Doesn’t really invoke overwhelming joy, though a sarcastic nod of towards a common train of thought can bring a wry smile to the corner of my mouth. Bob Dylan’s it ain’t me babe? Similarly cynical though not really what i would call happy. I was going to say Brian Jonestown Massacre – Sue in that i always feel calm and tend to drift away when listening to that song. I guess that is the closest i could say i get to happiness…calm and not thinking about anything in particular.

But then i figured i’m just thinking about it too much and instead i’ve gone for the positivity machine that is Mr Rudd. A song that makes you happy or a song that is supposed to make you happy…

Maybe i’ll start with some things that amused me recently however. I’m certainly on my way to proving that quality > quantity…

If you install Microsoft Outlook and set it up to receive your private mail, it will send a test email to your account with subject ‘Microsoft Outlook Test Message’ to make sure you are receiving mail….i found it in the Junk Mail folder. Well done Microsoft.

I was walking to work this morning and passed this girl who’s arm movement was no longer in pace with her walk. It’s like she’d had a right strop on at some point but then got slowed down by other people or something, but her arm just kept just kept pumping away like a demon. It made me smile.

Some more things that piss me off.

- WordPress
- WordPress updates.
- Browser-specific layout problems.
- Manchester City’s Pozman celebration.
- Every commentator who commentates – as commentators tend to do – on Manchester City games and uses the phrase ‘and here go the city fans with the absolutely unique Pozman celebration’…absolutely unique except for the team they stole it off. Murray Walker anyone?
- The poor coordination and memories of charity collectors – I leave the station and there is one just outside the ticket gates collecting for Red cross or something. I throw in a few coins, more than i should have cause i accidentally pulled out gold coins and the chick saw them so i couldn’t exactly take them back and look for something smaller. Then i walk around the corner and there is another one from the same charity and he asks as well. I try to intimate that i just paid his mate and he just looks at me like i’m the lowest of the low. And if it’s not two of them, it’s walking passed the same one twice. They ask you the second time and you try to acknowledge them with recognition and they stonewall you. What are you a fucking goldfish? I was here like two minutes ago…

Anyway this song is just awful. From start to finish, terrible. Lyrics? Atrocious!

I’ll be there till the stars don’t shine…Yes ladies, Jon will stick around till the morning, then it’s splitsville.
Till the heavens burst….till the first sign of rain….
and the words don’t rhyme…. they never rhyme you douche! You know what does rhyme? Rhyme and shine. Why not, time? Lime? Dime? Grime? Crime? Mime? How about mime? I’ll be there till the heavens burst and i become a mime? Doesn’t make any sense does it Jon? Well neither does till the words don’t rhyme you fucking tool!!!!

18.5 million hits! This is what is wrong with this world!

So i thought, I’ll make some posts out of them. I’ll pad it out with things that piss me off at the moment or observation’s I’ve made today and see how i go. Then i can always crap on about that day’s song for a bit of extra padding. There’s also a special treat as i have recently unearthed two word documents on my hard-drive dated sometime in 2007 that i may or may not have published. Again, i don’t have the inclination to go and look to see if i have in fact published these already. What do you call someone who lacks inclination? Flat? Horizontal? Inclinatedly challenged?

How come, if – not that i want to but just hypothetically speaking, if – i wanted to take a poo in the middle of the street…again I’m not saying i think about doing this but just for the sake of the argument…how come i would more than likely be arrested, but it is ok for a police horse to just walk up a road and shit all over a perfectly good pedestrianised street? Is this because they are animals? Like dogs? How come the police don’t have to get down off their horses with big bags to pick up their horsey doo doo? Here’s a thin napkin. Smell that copper? Smell’s like servitude…

Things that piss me off at the moment:

- Buying a widescreen tv and still having to watch things with the fucking black bars at the top and bottom of the screen.

- Tv commercials for Amazon Kindle. So it’s a digital version of a book right? Well they don’t show people gathering in parks with 5 or 6 people hovering over the latest Dan Brown novel or a young couple falling over each other flipping through the next Patricia Cornwell novel. Since when were books a sociable thing? I imagine Patricia Cornwell’s novels are a big money spinner for the kindle. You basically just have the shell of the novel written and use a random word generator to come up with a new title, location and victim’s name. Well it’s a battle between her and John Grisham for least overheads…

So I don’t really like the questions of the 30 days song challenge…I basically just want to force my music on other people for a month. Deal with it.

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..