| MFTV 2 |
[Jan. 25th, 2007|03:03 pm] |
I write a lot in many notepads and scraps of paper, don't tell anyone but I often think my writing is awesome, sometimes I re-read it and feel all smug about how great I am. Of course I never show anybody anything I have ever written... They might say it's crap and then I will feel really silly. I remember my bro and I used to listen to the songs he had made when we we're at high school and we'd say "man this is good enough for radio!" They were actually crap, but Clayton's music eventually got quite good, but it is still embarrassing to think how awesome we used to think we were. This might be a good time to talk about MFTV, a short video we made with some friends that was horrifically bad but I really don't ever want to talk about that ever.
My website is down at the moment because I haven't paid the bills, I don't even have internet access, I'm using a friends account at the moment so it looks like I won't post any of this awesome shit I've been writing ever. |
|
|
| Sleepy |
[Dec. 13th, 2006|12:48 am] |
I've been up since 2pm Monday in an attempt to correct my sleep patterns and to feel again the strange joy I get from the creative and intense thoughts I get from sleep deprivation. I strangely become more creative, clever and funny, simply by not sleeping! I got report from Laura this morning that she has indeed been married over in Vanuatu in a kustom ceremony, probably a few pigs killed for a feast. Hooray! She has been good to me and I know that it was very brave to tell me in the frank and honest way she has, I myself am a firm believer in running with love and making bold decisions based on it, I myself did as that dickhead Ben Lee told me and "gambled everything for love" when I sent myself in to absurd debt to go over and visit Laura, so maybe it would be a bit harsh for me to be too critical. Mostly though I must admit I feel relieved as had Laura not have got married to David; it could have been me instead and I may have not have picked up on the glaringly obvious fact that is shown by her actions in getting married on a whim, and that is that Laura must obviously be an utter idiot. By no means do I want to be married to an idiot.
Tonight Claire came over and we went to the pub and had our regular Lansdowne five dollar feed, but this time Kate piked. Strangely we decided that we would meet up with the guy that is Kate's friend, Tully at another pub. I don't know if Tully was too happy to see us as he was talking to a very pretty girl and we ruined everything, mu ha ha ha ha! Well I think they didn't mind our conversations, I was flirtatious to the girl he was with, Sarah, but Christ I am only human, she was very interesting. Actually I don't think I was hitting on her, I think I only wanted to. Who is Tully? I believe he appeared at a party at Emma Zappia's place; a party that Laura invited me to and where I invited Kate and Claire. There Tully became Kate's friend. He should go with Kate I reckon, and as I "provided" her in a roundabout way... fair is fair and I should be able to see the lovely girl I met tonight... no this doesn't work as you can't actually swap females around they tend to make decisions on there own. Well I'm tired, depressed and looking pathetically desperate. |
|
|
| It's my right to have "mentals" god damn it! |
[Dec. 12th, 2006|05:50 am] |
It has been a few years since I last wrote in this silly live journal thingo, I almost forgot I even had one. Why I'd write here I don't know, but I am writing now so I might as well keep going, I might buck my trend of my not doing things as I don't see the point in doing anything. Just doing for the sake of doing is fine. The magic hole in the wall that would spit money at me long after the limit had been breached has come to an end. My girl in Vanuatu whom is coming back to Sydney next week I hear has got married, it would have been nice if she told me herself instead of hearing it second hand. My computer has been broken for a few weeks but seems to be working now, but may turn off at any minute. I have been reading more lately since I realised that the fancy pocket pc my bro gave me wasn't broken at all... I have no idea why he gave it to me, maybe I should accept that he is a nice person, always giving me he's old gizmos that are often still worth quite a bit. He gave me his pocket pc over a year ago and I've just left it in its box, all she needed was a new backup battery (a cheap $3 watch battery.) I always make out that Clay my bro is an arsehole, but he isn't, I think he actually cares about me.
This weekend's highlight was being frisked by a gang of police officers; the fuckers even read my diary! I thought I was going to be taken off to the police station and be left to rot in some cell accused of some heinous double murder or something. I had just come from my brother's place it was two thirty in the morning, I was a little drunk and I was going to catch the nightride bus in Summerhill.
Walking along deep in thought about my life and I pass a street where there are police cars everywhere and a really bright spot-light, I tried to see what was going on for a little while but continued my journey walked a little further then for no good damn reason; totally forgetting the crime scene I burst in to a little run - a skip almost - like I always do when I'm by myself deep in a crazed day dream about some kind of grand plan or story I'm writing in my head - actually I was thinking about the craziness of this whole tribal Vanuatuan wedding thing that my Laura had with that bloody hairy American that talked too much and to whom I gave my thongs; whether or not this wedding actually happened and if it didn't how would a rumour like that start; if it was an act of radical idealism or indulgence to experience such a ceremony and be able to fuck in that crazed backward ultra conservative shit hole without anyone being stoned to death or maybe calm stable Laura has caught some exotic disease that has made her brutally mentally retarded and she actually wants to be married! I really hope that it was radical indulgence! So I'm running thinking about my girl engulfed with some demented brain disease, thinking about my cheap thongs that the hairy loud mouth American fucker has, repeating continually through my head my dumb joke I keep thinking "Give them ya thongs and they'll take your girlfriend." I was thinking of the 3d application tutorial video I'd just strangely watched at Clay's place while we got drunk. The videos created by nerdy fat unshaven black man who talked funny - wondering what his life is like comparing him to the previous nerd that presented the tutorials of a different 3d application we watched the previous week he used the word "noonie" incessantly. I wasn't in a depressed or in an angry mood in my crazed run - it all seemed so overwhelmingly absurd this world of endless noonies, the world always strikes as utterly ridiculous. I was in an excited state almost howling at the moon, untill a fat shaven head cop, a god damn bullfrog he was, ran up the stairs of the station tunnel to the bus stop that I was peacefully waiting by, I think I was clinking my fingers pacing up and down maybe, clearly I wasn't running from anyone - clearly I was and am just a strange human being that is a tad mental. The bullfrog came up and told me to turn around and put my hands on the railings he pat me down and took everything out of my pockets. He asked me where I was going, where I'd been. I answered honestly and politely a bit confused and startled and he radioed his police buddies "Yeah... I've got one of them now." Police cars came flying in from every where all confirming the absurdity of the world to me.
A female officer came along she said "we saw this guy walking past looking pretty innocent just before" I tell the bullfrog that I have come from my brothers house, I tell him where he lives, that we were just having a few quiet bevies all the while I have my hands on the railings and a copper clenching the back of my shirt. The female officer starts reading my notebook that was in my pocket I tell her that it is private but old matey the fucking Bullfrog says "it was 'till you ran." What a fucking smart arse fucking Bullfrog. At this stage I'm feeling like a real idiot, why the fuck did I start running? What kind of commie/anti-society/whiney emo ramblings have I got in my book? My book is passed around to another officer, one of them eventually calls my brother to confirm my story. I apologise to the arseholes for running then they disappear into the night. Hopefully my distraction, gave a chance to the guys they were after to adequately flea.
What a strange experience, they said something about stolen goods from cars; that is ridiculous, this level of policing is a bit heavy for something like that; it had to be something more serious... didn't it? What would have happened if there wasn't the female officer saying I looked innocent? What if I wasn't a slimy apologetic weasel that can seem to talk my way out of everything? My notepad was a new one and didn't have anything too personal or anything that'd get me in trouble -just some whining about my twitching eye and my insatiable urge to be pissed. Why did I apologise? it may be a little strange but I am allowed by law to run around skipping and flailing like a mad man! I didn't run from anyone! No one told me to stop, and if I was running I assure you that even unfit scrawny me could out run the ol' bullfrog. He must have felt so smug for finally being able to catch someone!
The bus soon arrived and when I got back to the city I was to excited to go home, even though the shock of my little run in had sobered me up. I couldn't resist the temptation of my vice that is the nightclub Purple Sneakers. I had a story and I had energy, I wanted to get a girl and take her back to my dirty little roach infested apartment. My success rate is rather high at this establishment, I can usually get a hot little alternative girl to pash me and give me her number, only occasionally have I got them into my bed in the first instance. There wasn't any success in my dirty little sex crazed flirting on this night, I spoke for a while to a cute German girl, whose friend was getting with some other guy. I really wanted her friend, my precious little ego didn't really put too much effort in the German girl even though she was certainly worth it, based I think on being not "the target." How silly of me, I am really quite shallow aren't I. Picking up women is becoming even more of a stretch now that I am teetering on bankruptcy and the last time I had any employment was a distant memory... Idealism can only get you so far.
The ridiculous French girl Céliné was there at Purple Sneakers; I tried telling her my story of police harassment but she was too French to hear all of my story and walked away bored. She is a very interesting character; an utterly horrible human being but that is somehow refreshing or is it that she is just attractive and can get away with biting and burning people with cigarette lighters and being downright rude and arrogant for no good reason. |
|
|
| Narcisist! |
[Dec. 15th, 2004|08:05 pm] |
I'm not crazy damn it! She does have Narcissistic Personality Disorder! After a brake of three seconds from her amazing eternal soul mate, she again is in a state of ideal love. Aww, she's in love, so what if she falls in love easily? No, damn it, it's that her victim's believe it, and dedicate every waking hour to please her, everything they can afford (or rather can not) they give her, but it always is such a pleasure to please her, she is always so grateful. You think it's just vulnerable nerdy guys like me? No, she can control anyone. If you can provide something she needs, she'll use you, destroy you, and crumble away all your connections to the outside world until there is only her. All her boyfriends have worshipped her, not in a metaphorical sense either. She is about 7 males in now, following an identical procedure to destroy them. IT IS ALWAYS IDEAL AND TRUE LOVE.
This is not an anti-woman statement, I personally don't agree with the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. Girls are often degraded to being nothing more then a trophy in relationships. This is a BEWARE OF NARCISISTS statement.
Well, Micro Mini Man, the latest victim is a fucking wanker DJ, so I don't really care about his welfare. |
|
|
| No life |
[Oct. 25th, 2004|06:16 am] |
I'm sick of being on the dole, I need to be able to buy things like an internet connection and a phone line. I'd like to be able to spend $5 on something without worrying about my budget. I want to buy books. I want to make very large prints of my works. I want to buy a video camera, being a video artist without a camera is rather pathetic! Though my observations of working life appears to be that working becomes your life, stealing your time, creating stressors, limiting your actions and creating an addiction to money. No matter how much money you earn, your expenditure meets it as you compete for social status, and before you know it your married with 2.3 kids.
I'm lonely and I want to have love in my life again, I can't see a point in doing anything, there is no joy in the things I used to enjoy. Loneliness and depression take the pleasure out of everything. |
|
|
| No phone, No net |
[Sep. 27th, 2004|05:15 pm] |
My phone will be dissconected at 7. This also means no more internet! I am hoping Clay will let me do all my netty things at his house on Fridays untill I get wireless broadband.
I went in the retro vinnies on Abercrombie St in Chippendale (I always thought that side of Cleveland St was Redfern or maybe Darlington) they had awesome shit, heaps cheap! I will even be able to actually buy stuff now that I've been sticking to my strict budget! So exciting, I ain't bought any clothes in years (I'm become a crazy bum)!
The plan is to have my website back online on Friday, I've gotta make some cool little flash movies to go on it, it'll be sweeeeeeeet mate! |
|
|
| Finger in the Bum |
[Sep. 23rd, 2004|03:23 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  crappy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Jay and the Doctor on Tripple J | ] |
Maybe I was getting over woried about that cancer business, the doc still put his finger in my bum, but said there is very little chance of it being bowel cancer. I've been given three trays to shit in, infact I just shat in one then, I had the pleasure of scooping up a little crap on a paddle pop stick and putting it in a container. My crap hasn't been as weird as normal, no mucous or blood, and it was almost solid!
I got a voip account, my number is 02 82315778, or if you too have a sip account 2176@gw1.austechpartnerships.com give me a call! |
|
|
| It's fun to worry |
[Sep. 20th, 2004|12:31 pm] |
I disconnected my website, but it it will be back up in a month or so... Assuming I am still alive! For the last few months I've been plagued by many of the symptoms of bowel cancer, I'm going to a specialist this Wednesday to check it out. I just found out last night that both my grandparents on my mothers side died of bowel cancer and my Auntie has a pre-cancerous cist in her bowel.
Before I first went to the doctors about this a month ago I wasn't really worried, the cancer thought wasn't really there. When the doctor started talking about bowel cancer, I was quite surprised. I kind of romanticized this idea, looking forward to getting sympathy, I didn't know that their was a history of bowel cancer in my family. Now I have read about living with a colostomy, about the 50% mortality rate, now I'm scared. |
|
|
| A splendid meal |
[Sep. 13th, 2004|07:36 am] |
Funds have dried up long ago...
A shit load of Jimmy Gunk
Boil 1 cup of rice in one and a half cups of water (absorbtion method).
When rice is almost cooked and water is low add 3 table spoons of tomato paste.
Add a table spoon of curry powder.
Add chili powder to taste.
Add an egg.
Add more water.
Stir occasionally.
Serve on cruskits with slices of fresh tomato, olives and pepper. Nice with soy sauce.
using non-generic ingredients is strictly prohibited in making Jimmy Gunk |
|
|
| Popularity Contest |
[Sep. 13th, 2004|05:34 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  depressed | ] |
Why on earth would I do a live-journal when I don't even bloody know anyone who uses it? Maybe one day I will be loved! Memories of the year 12 slave auction, are creeping back; the sporty wankers were bought for the maximum $20, while Muller and I were eventually sold for $2. I'll just keep the "miss-understood artist" nonsense idea to keep me happy :)
I must say I'm having a rather quirky existence lately, not much interaction with any of the humans. Thats o.k. though, I can sit around all day and make pretty pictures to my hearts content!
My friend Claire has moved to the city, like me she's living alone, unlike me she has an awesome view of the harbor, I'm yet to inform her that New years is at her house.
This is kooky, I'm writing as though I have friends who'll read this and reply, but they won't!
I wonder if Sarah, remembers who I am still?
This is me, I'm sexy. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
wormal's journal