I want to live in the 30's

Today I went to see the art deco exhibition with A Boy, and it was pretty awesome. They had a beautiful, red 30's Mercedes Convertible standing at the entrance that would gulp 30 liters of petrol per 100k's, which anyhow is about the same as the standard consumption for any aussie vehicle today so I can't see why they had to point that out. Wonderful to see how technology moves forward! Would have been pretty sweet to have lived in that era; jazz, foxtrot, zeppeliners and oppression.. Check out the sweet dance style The Big Apple from the 30's.

Yesterday I went walking with Doc D and Sunray's hyperactive and demanding dog that he was babysitting while Sunny was up in the country. Along the way we saw two things that I found pretty hilarious: a) male pram jogger with bad sloppy tights and twins, stacked in the pram b) gothers going to KFC in the afternoon.

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Today it is a whole new day, actually, it's already Monday night, and I haven't even bothered to finish off yesterday's posting. I'm such a lazy whore. Get my shit together. Go to the gym. Eat fresh. Have hot sex. Find the man of my dreams. Have great friends. Be succsessful. Have plenty of sparetime to relax and wander around the house in trackies and watch clueless and cook amazing meals. Life's such a contradicting bitch.

Didn't get to go to the gym tonight as I had to finish up some work, but went for dinner with Doc D and Sunray instead at my favourite Korean place, Goshen, on Smith street. Will try and get up fairly early tomorrow and go for a run before work. Local time now 1.55AM. T minus 5.05 and we have lift-off.

While doing this I have been dreaming of getting Flying Lotus' album Los Angeles which I listened to at the record store today while searching for a soundtrack. But now that I've heard more than the two, apparently, best tracks I'm a bit uncertain. Will have to read up on it before purchasing. Broadcast's "Haha Sounds" seems sweet though, and the same for the Midnight Juggernauts "Dystopia".

Lovely day

Last night I had a couple of revelations: a) I have no willpower b) I have no sound economical judgement c) I'm desperate when I'm drunk d) but not that desperate e) I must move to the burbs.

After seeing a couple of the vids on Losertube I'm having second thoughts about the last one. What was I thinking, really.

What not to do when at an architecture master's exhibition:

- Don't try to overintellectualize your conversation. They are always smarter and more sober than you, and you'll just end up inventing new words and slurring them in the process coming off as a drunk cunt, which you probably are anyhow

- Don't kick the models. It's tempting, but just suck your genitalia into your body cavity and have a nice tall champagne flute of keep on walking

- Don't hide the greasy chicken skewers you just devoured in the presentation model you're standing next to

- Don't lift small people onto the models. They won't fit even though they might appear to be at 1:25 scale

- Don't comment on the work to hot strangers, cause the project you just axed as naïve and unresh'olved is probably theirs. Be nice or you gets no booty rooty

- Don't stare at the hot guy in the tight red t-shirt commenting loudly to your friends 'I think he's G-A-Y'

- Don't take two bottles of red for the road. You'll end up being too drunk when you get to the next venue to get in. Swaying and pointing the bottle (bottles..?) at the bouncer to underline your sobriety does probably not improve your case.

Today I awoke to the sound of bird twitter and the sensation of a sandstorm having blown through my mouth. Then the Accompanist called who, if possible, sounded like he had had an even more massive night than me, ending up upstairs at Sircuit watching Kate Blanchett in the non-porn movie room. The poor thing was hung over and on the tram homewards (I think) when a freaking chinese marching band, horns chirping out of tune and drums outta control banging, walked past and held up the tram. What a nightmare that must have been for someone who's a professional musician. He hung up.

I just found a note in my back pocket from the DJ at the Workshop bar from last night with the address to his blog where they've posted some cool mixtapes and stuff. They do an awesome job live, and I think I actually tried a while ago to hook him up with my best friend.

Go away

Detox failed miserably tonight. I couldn't resist red wine, and after red wine, a Mojito and GTs came naturally. Later an aussie souvlaki went down. Not the healthies night, but hey, I've seen way worse. Here are today's shots.

What is it all about anyhow

Gonna keep it short and sweet today. Will meet A Boy again on Sunday, this time for a cultural date. I've decided life is too short not to enjoy it, and if nothing else, atleast we're building a friendship. And seeing an art deco exhibition.

Here's what the awesome protective glasses look like. Will try and make a shot inside the chamber the next time, being in there feels a bit like being in a Justin Timberlake video, minus the hot well coreographed background dancers. Note to self, bring ipod for enhanced experience.



Here's the cover of Para One's sweet hard electro album. Next time I go out I'm getting zink colours and doing that to my face. There's not enough self expression in the world.



Listening to Kanye West's "Drunk and hot girls" made me sort of depressed, so we jumped to Us3's Cantaloop (flip fantasia) from the Hand on the torch album for a little uplifting boogie before I realized I was in a sort of warm-cozy mood and landed on Khonnor's Handwriting album, and particularly the track "a little secret" and the magnificent, rich and dreamy "blindness bats". If it were a landscape it be Iceland relocated to Mars with the early morning sun shimmering in the vapor trails coming off lush hills and hitting crystal clear lakes with a thousand icebergs gently floating around. What else? Yes, Vaalia's Berry Blast yoghurt. Love Vaalia's yoghurt that actually has the taste and texture of what yoghurt is supposed to be. And now call your mum and tell her how much she means to you. And yoga in six hours... How about a relaxing lifestyle huh?

And how about some exploding whale? Check out the first related video. How ironic that should come up as the most related video to whale blubber.. When talking about whales, check out the poor beached Kiwi bro.

Holiday

After yesterday's massage session my body has just gone completely hiwire. I've been stupid fatigued and not of much use today. Woke up at 8.30, but wasn't really feeling like getting up and finally rocked up at work at 10.30. After work I had vietnamese chicken pho; soup, with a friend before choir practice, where I completely crashed. My friend drove me home half way through it, and I ended up soaking in the bath for 45 minutes. Haven't done that for a couple of years I think. While soaking I had two bixit wheat biscuits and sent two texts.

My plans of having a detox month after last nights session lasted about 15 hours. Hot chocolate is such a killer. To me, it's what bacon is to vegetarians; the one thing that makes them turn to the dark side. I was pretty good up until then though and had heaps of fruit (strawberries, pear, dried paw paw, mandarin, grapes and a grenadine apple), dark rye bread, nuts and water. Maybe not all is lost after all. I'll become a better person tomorrow.. (reminds me of one of Jurassic 5's tracks about change, but hell if I can remember the name.)

While doing this I've been listening to Billie Holiday's God bless the child, chatting to friends on MSN, browsing broocees bower's last snaps and getting a live report from a friend at home having his third in a couple of hours of my favourite ice cream. I usually enjoy the last bit the most, that and the very much anticipated first bite, while he enjoys the middle part more as it's just more of it. I get upset when I finish a chocolate bar, or whatever really, without realizing it's the last bit of it as I really savour that part. Anyhow, me feeling like a holiday somewhere warm.

Today's most awesome purchase: hot water flask in black and white checkered felt cover, $4.95.

Good day sunshine

Welcome to the blog that's 100% certified in your face (according to 1 voter; me. Just to test).

Today was a pretty uneventful day at the office; won't be getting into details as I think everybody in my office secretly follows and lives vicariously through my postings. Anyhow, I went to the dhermatologist this morning and got light treatment before work in this chamber that's basically a sunbed standing on its end. Isn't that ironic; the skin doctors warn you about going to the solarium because you'll get melanoma, but apparently it's quite alright as long as it's on the premises of professionals that aren't even present.. Anyhow, it's UVB, so I'll get a sweet tan. I don't complain about that fact. Quite a hilarious experience, it felt so provincial with the chick behind the counter (Aunt Margareth?) explaining the workings of the machine and all the rattling noizes it would make, and her knowing the first name of everybody who came in. And I got to wear awesome protective sunglasses that I will photo the next time I'm in there on Thursday.

For lunch I went to the gym and ran for a while and then did lower body at a ridiculously high tempo so that I could go and perv in the locker room. Really.. what do you think of me. It's still kind of hard NOT to look at others in there though, where are you supposed to look? Stare gloomily into the floor tiles like some depressed company whore or joyfully load things into your bag while humming a psalm planning the sunday youth group workshops in your head; I easily choose perving. Decently of course, it's not a sauna though they have two of them and probably 80% of the male patrons are queers.

Tonight I've had a two hour full body massage + Bowen therapy treatment, oh joy! Try it and weep. I have a pretty high pain threshold, but parts of that almost made me hyperventilate. A friend back home told me that we all have a given, finite number of breaths to breathe. That was his argument for not exercising. My argument for exercising is obviously the opportunity to perv.

I forgot my phone at home today, so didn't get to do any of the snaps I wanted to while swimming through rush traffic on my single speed.

Today I've been listening to Goldfrapp's latest and wonderfully relaxing album 'Seventh tree' while reading provincial news from North Yorkshire, watching the evil eye baby and dreaming of and missing the Norwegian summer. Let's adopt more happy babies.

Working 9 to 5

.. Would be oh so lovely every now and then. Anyhow, it's now 12.35 PM and I'm having tuna, pretty much out of the box for dinner. I left work at 9.45 after looking for my keys for about 20 minutes and pissing myself off for being so well together when it comes to where I live my kit (see Saturday morning's note on leaving MuscleKylie..). I stopped by Safeway to get trail mix and a banana to get my energy levels up a bit (whenever I'm grumpy, a banana does the trick... ;), and bumped into my german buddy whom I suspect was out browsing under the poor excuse of getting glad wrap. Then I had a real late night session at the gym until closing time at midnight and now I feel pretty good about myself. And tired.

Last night we had our concert, and even though I didn't have a goddamned black collared shirt it all went really well (I had on my awesome black Cheap Monday skinny jeans, now not featuring mysterious stains from trippy taco, and a black merino wool jumper). The service was in commemoration of Stonewall, which was a protest march in 1969 after the police gay bashing at the Stonewall Inn. It's been some time since I've been in a church, and I suddenly remembered why. It was still pretty entertaining to see the creativity they had come up with, having a projector playing videos of bears jumping in the water and tiger cubs play fighting, glorious neon rainbow coloured banners that make you wonder how gay people can be referred to as trendsetters and an acid trippy patterned cloth covering the altar table. It was so cute I almost shit myself. In retrospect I wish I had.

To get a bit of counterweight to the whole experience of the butch priestess we went to the Opium Den. There they had a karaoke night on, and all the crews from all of the shows that are currently running were there, including Mary fucking Poppins. In other words all professionals trying to impress other professionals and get laid. Instead of getting on stage we stood in the back and screamed a bit at the guy singing Maroon 5 in a nasal voice, discussed spiking the German's drink and how easy it was to get AIDS from licking toilet seats these days. It started dying down at the Den, so we left for Sircuit where I haven't been too many times before (ok, I'm lying through my teeth, but you don't know that). Feeling dead tired after a whole week of averaging no more than 3-5 hours of sleep a night and a pretty massive one the night before I didn't last too long. They were playing awesome music though, respect to the 'Jay for bringing out the sweet eighties electro classics! On the way home me and the Accompanist first honked the horn at the German, then at random girls in too short skirts with too high heels who were too drunk. At home I got electrocuted (in a sort of good way..) by a Malaysian machine that was supposed to do a mixture of massage and rape. Today my neck feels a lot better than what it has done the last week after last Saturday's frantic head tossing session.

While doing this I've been: having Sirena tuna in oil, italian style.

Ok, I've been listening to the Junior Boys 'So this is goodbye' album, and Para One's awesome, banging Dudun-dun from the 'Epiphanie' album. Wow I need some new sweet electro. Feel free to drop me some tips.