Thursday, September 29, 2005 me muck 'ole...

Soundtrack: Digger and the Pussycats / Fashion Victim

Last night I went to something I thought would look a little like this:

But in reality actually looked a lot like this:

There was however one particular highlight. One of the models was incredible. The second sexiest woman I have ever seen in my life. I was a little drunk. I was sitting perched on my seat drinking in her raw sensuality. I turned to my friend, The Bean and talking loudly so I could be heard over the pulsating techno exclaimed:

"I'd LOVE to fuck her up the arse Bean"

You know those times when the music stops and your voice rings out across the entire Atrium and all sorts of dolled up, cokey fashionista types just breath sharply inward and turn and glare at you...and it all happens in a split second and then the music starts again...and then you feel a tap tap tap on your shoulder and it's a middle aged woman and she leans close enough to whisper, that's my daughter you know...

And The Bean fell on the floor in Historic Hysterics.

But the model. She looked me right in the eye and smiled and winked, did her turn and shimmyed that yummy bummy back down the catwalk and out of sight.

And the hours that followed...well, getting drunk and dancing on a couch hasn't felt that good in a long time.

It's Fashion Dahling.



Monday, September 26, 2005


In the end
All we've got
Are the rules
We choose to play by

I choose Love no matter what the Truth. I choose to look you all in the eye as I drip with knowledge and still smile right back. I choose to talk straight and do so in the Light of Day. I choose to meet you in the Field of Battle and throw roses at you, perhaps a fart bomb if the whim takes me. I choose to stick to a religion of my own making, whereby I will Perceive and Investigate, and I will Understand and Laugh It Off. I will do my fucking damndest to hold my knowledge sacred and never mount a High Horse, though fuck me...look out when I'm pissed. I've been known to get a little Dark. And I will write strange blog posts and forever strive for language and meaning far beyond my capacity, but well within reach.

Fear? I know not fear. There are only moments of confusion.

Everything I have feared this past year has come to pass, and yet here I sit smiling. For Hunter was right. There is no fear, only confusion. Confusion, Mr Frank Herbert, is the mind killer, not fear. Lately, I have watched confusion all around me. People circling themselves and each other, blinded and hooded and unwilling, unable to breath, slow the play, take stock, exhale confusion. And armed with anthropological curiousity I have taken my own lessons from this and found my own way through and you know what? There is no confusion really either, not once you look around at what is REAL. Brains are powerful and dangerous things. But they are not hearts, they just wish they were and act accordingly.

The only things that really matter in a hotel are privacy, fresh oysters and a telephone.

Stop what you are doing please. Find yourself a sanctuary where you no longer know anything but your own needs. Just for a little while. Don't do anything rash. Pick up the phone, order some oysters and allow yourself a little fucking luxury and a truck-fuck-load of privacy. Now believe whatever it is you want to believe, but calculate Fact vs. Fiction vs. Daydreaming vs. Hope. Have some more oysters and get pissed. Wait for the brick to hit you, then open the door to the outside world.

The too much fun club is back in business. Let us rumble.

Let the light settle. Remember that no matter what, Freedom comes first. Then happiness. But let us quantify freedom for a moment then we can start on the shots. Freedom is not, "I do what I want!" Freedom is being able to stand alone or together or in a group of people and never have to worry about the Weight. Whether it is introspection or dealing with another, Freedom allows you to be one hundred percent READY. You are ready. Freedom means you do not carry in your heart, a knot, a hole, a hurt. For if you do, then how will we be able to laugh freely together at the bar? How will you be able to look me in the eye? Freedom is not Anarchy, taking what you think is yours for you are free and Fuck The World, Fuck The Rules. Freedom means, no lies, only truth. That my fellow troubled souls, is motherfucking liberating. THEN comes happiness.

*pours shot*

*opens door*

*smiles at Life*

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Make word from pitcha coz brain is woolly. Fully.

I was the only person in the cafe at 6.30 Sunday Morning. I wasn't there to buy a latte, but I did.

This what I looked like on Sunday when I went into the pub next to my house to buy Pain Killing Alcohol. I didn't realise there were Actors in the pub. Of course they would notice my bottom. That is what actors do. Notice bottoms.

I won a Silver Medal. Second comes right after FIRST!

Someone spewed into a bucket full of pee in my bedroom yesterday. Here I have recreated that scene using a pumpkin and seeds. Createrrific.

I have felt like this since 7.00pm Saturday.

Please advise.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

If a man foofs in his office does he still make a sound?

Sometimes, the right song, the right day.

Fuck I love this band.

Soundtrack: Les Savy Fav / We'll make a lover of you.

(Find it, turn it up, pull your pants down and pretend to be me. It'll be fun. I promise...)


They say, "Once you've found love and it's rarer than gold.
You stake your claim- it's so hard to hold."
I say, "We've struck a vein and it's wide as a road!"

Have we got love enough to go around?
Why don't you get a piece and pass it down?
Even a hundred million years from now
The love we make will still be putting out

We filled up our pockets till they would explode
and called the whole world here so they could behold
the light of our love beats the dark and the cold

Have we got love enough to go around?
Why don't you get a piece and pass it down?
Even a hundred million years from now
The love we make will still be putting out

I get the best of you, you get the best of me.
You know I come to you across the broadest sea.
For just a speck of you I'd trade the whole of me.
I wish each peck from you would last eternity.

Where the skin's thin and where the skin gathers.
When you're moving in and see it's all that matters.
Records left skipping, clothing all scattered,
a kiss in the kitchen, the dishes all shattered

We'll make a lover of you.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Friendship Troopers

Soundtrack: Billy Bragg & Wilco / Airplane to Heaven

The universe has a way of knowing when you are vulnerable. And I must say, it's not always a kind, gentle universe we live in. Sometimes it waits until you have nothing left, stripped bare of your protective layers before laying its fucking boots in. And when that happens, there is no respite, no relief, only a "fucking Hell...what the fuck else do you want to throw at me, throw me a fricken bone here!" attitude.

The thing is, it's at these moments, that you get a chance to show what you're made of. To show the universe that you're made of the good, strong stuff, and you laugh and pick yourself up and become twice the person you were.

And the universe, kind and caring after all, but motherfucking filled with tough love, lets go of you and smiles warmly, satisfied with a job well done.

There are people in this world who do not get to learn these lessons. There are people who aren't interested in Love or Peace or Happiness.

That's their fucking problem.

As an old friend of mine with a fucking annoying habit of impersonating Ali G always said to me...

Increase the peace.

Today, Love is all around.

Grab the fuck onto it wherever you can.




Sunday, September 11, 2005

Don Quixotic

Soundtrack: Bright Eyes / At the bottom of everything

8:50 - 9:00

It is impossible to find happiness in the arms of another if you cannot find it within yourself. But should you find yourself wrapped in someone's arms, it should not be seen as escape. It should be seen as respite. One brief moment in time. One blink of an eye.. One moment to breath and close your eyes and feel...just feel.

There goes my home. Receding like tide waters behind me as my coach pulls out and onward goes The B. And my home does not move, just hands-in-pockets watches as I turn and face forward.

And I know the feeling.

9:00 - 9:15

Outside the window I stare and spread my heart across the countryside. I take everything inside me. I take the trees, the hills, the creeks, the farmhouses. I take the sky. I take it all in and I give myself over to loving it, because I know the man sitting next to me is buried in his Business News and has no idea that I encompass him as well. I free myself and love the world, because, if you have these feelings, it is your duty to do so.

9:15 - 9:30

I play the game I have played since I was four years old. Outside the window I ride my hovering skateboard, dodging trees, skimming dams and sending white cold spray flying skyward in my wake. We hit the forest and I lower my centre of gravity. It is difficult now, fast and dangerous, in, out, over logs and under branches, faster, faster, faster, ducking, weaving, speeding until BANG the forest breaks open and the hills explode space as far as the horizon and on my board I hold my hands out and my head tilts to the sky and I scream WOOHOO!

And inside the coach, I laugh. I laugh with my own joy. And the Business News man shifts across the aisle to the newly vacated seat beside us.

9:30 - 9:45

I search the ache inside. I puzzle over it as though it is a multi-coloured cube all chaos and formless. Click. Click. I turn it in my hands until it takes shape. Until it is not an ache. It is a BEAT. BEAT. BEAT. It is a living fucking beating heart. And it continues to beat. And it will continue to beat for every one of these 650,00 hours I am here.

Tick. Tick.

9:45 - 10:02

Underdressed and overfed. It's cold in Ballarat, so I find a corner and light up.

10:02 - 11:00

At a dinner party, or out with friends at a restaurant. I am the guy who walks outside alone and smokes. So I am the last to jump the train as yes, the whistle blows and the doors close and my frozen nose...drips. Heh.

I find a seat, the only one that comes in pairs and marvel at my luck, until beside my chairs a door opens and a man emerges all flushed and I know exactly what he had for dinner the night before and it's not pretty.

I am a reader. Especially on a trip like this. But this time I show my other side. I am a starer. I am a ponderer and a daydreamer and it's just so fucking beautiful out there I choose that over Editorials and Don't You Hate It Whens...And the view rewards me, though I could never describe how.

My thoughts turn to home. Not the one I have left. Behind. But the one in front of me. And it is though I am standing in a shower of revelation. For it begins to trickle slowly over my scalp, tickling my ears, dripping over my naked shoulders before wrapping the rest of me in its warm embrace.

I have no home.

This is not a sad statement.

On the contrary.

Right NOW. Watching houses, hills, mountains, dams, forests scream past me...I feel more at home right now than I ever have. In between places. I am the in-between man. And I laugh at myself again, but this time there is only the toilet door beside me, and thankfully, it remains close lipped.

I do have a house, that is lit in blue the way approaching light takes that hue. It is a nice house. In fact, it is as close to a physical representation of home as I have ever had. But home is a place deep inside, and that is either a hundred miles behind me, or a hundred years in front.

And the first of two coincidences takes place as we shoot past Sunshine Station and out of the clouds it comes and if Business News man is on this train I hope he looks out the window at that moment because if you think you're missing out on finding happiness or missing out on the world's events...THEN TAKE A FUCKING LOOK AT THAT! That, my friend, is an event.


Witness says he was too busy doing crossword to notice Nature's Beauty.


And the second comes as I light my next cigarette. Huddled out of the wind under canvas back in the city. On the half built Platform lies a gigantic Yellow Machine. Its purpose eluding me but painted in huge black letters on its side the word: Allight.

And I smile and draw back my sweet toxic friend. Because kids, today...I feel Allllight.

Cue Haddaway's: What Is love.

Friday, September 9, 2005

When...the....moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie....

Not being a Bill Bryson-esque genius able to woo you with HILARIOUS (while I was asleep) Travel anecdotes, I never really went into any detail describing my mid-year tropicana sojourn in the South Pacific. Sun, sand, alcohol. The end.

I got to meet some truly wonderful people and over copious cocktails we all pledged to remain forever friends after we returned to our home countries. CHEESY!

The thing is, you never really know if the people you drink pina coladas with on the beach watching the sunset and surreptitiously sneak a look at the wives' boozies, actually like you as much as you like them. I tend to gush (....ahem...) about how great they are behind their backs and how coool it is to make new friends blah blah blah.

This morning, I received an email from Ambrogio and Germania an Italian couple we broke bread with in Fiji.


(Secret Aside: You may notice an alarmingly recurrent use of the word Mark. This is one of those in jokes that was of course hilarious at the time but is impossible to explain. Just chuckle knowingly every time you see the word)

So, without further Apu...

Hi guys!

How are you? We hope everything is fine in Melbourne.
We often think at our honeymoon with a big pleasure (of course) and we appreciated very much to meet you in that beautiful place called Vatulele...we had such a good time together! (MARK!)
Some days ago we remembered that you should have been visiting Europe this month, and we wondered if you would pass also through would be really nice to meet you again!
Hope to hear good news from our Aussie friends
Ambro & Ge

<Funny Version>
HEY! How are you doing, Marks?
There are a lot of things we have to tell you since we met in Vatulele Disco Dancing Club!
First of all we were wondering if you'll pass through Italy during your rave party tour in Europe this month...we hope the answer is MARK, of course!
After our travel back to Italy we decided to take advantage of Ambro's skills in opening coconuts and we founded a new company called I.C.O.V.S.P. (Italian Coconuts Openers Vatulele Style Plant), so everything is going really really fine here in Milan! We're looking for a distributor in Oceania, please think about it...
We hope to see you again before dying...but FIRST, a little bit of BOOMBA BOOMBA!
Ambro & Ge

<Angry version>
Oh! We're talking with you guys!
Why the hell didn't you write any bloody news from your side???
Maybe we are not enough for you, f***ing snobs?
We hate you so much that we punch and kick each other everyday to do some training for the f***ing moment when we'll meet you during your f***ing european loss of time...
Please come and meet us, the only thing we ask is to warn us with some days of advance so that we can invite all our friends in order to make you a appropriated welcome...MWHUAHUAHAUAHUAHAUAHAUHAHHHHH!!!!
"Chainsaw" Ambro & "Ripper" Ge

<Short version>
How are you?
Are you coming to Italy?

<morse version>

If you are really reading this final part of the message you could realize some of the following things:
a) you have some friends in Milan (Italy) that miss you very much and really look forward to meet you again, better if in Italy, in front of a good REAL Parmisan dish...
b) you have some friends in Milan (Italy) that are very silly and write you stupid annoying emails...
c) you have some friends in Milan (Italy).
d) when you were completely drunk in Vatulele (Fiji), you gave your email adresses to some really crazy guys and now you're seriously thinking at changing them.
e) I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! ARE YOU REALLY REALLY STILL READING SUCH A STUPID MESSAGE??? That make you able to read the following point:
f) you are a person in Melbourne (Australia) with big mental problems.
g) you are a person in Melbourne (Australia) with big mental problems and some really strange friends in Milan (Italy).
h) you are a person in Melbourne (Australia) with big mental problems and some really strange friends in Milan (Italy) and YOU'RE GOING TO REPLY TO THIS EMAIL AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!

Sunday, September 4, 2005

Brian Told Me

Soundtrack: Son Volt / Let The Wind Take Your Troubles Away

I was four hours in to my nine hour Bar Fly session on Saturday when I was approached by a gentleman about 50 years of age. He introduced himself as Brian, and as I was in a jovial mood, I was happy to shoot the shit with him at the end of the bar.

Ten minutes later Brian was in tears as he relayed to me the story of his family, his coming out as a homosexual at the age of 48, his failed two marriages, his bad back etc etc...

Five minutes after that 50 year old Brian grabbed my face, proceeded to fail at sticking his tongue in my mouth and told me, "I want to fuck you so hard Boy..."

Five minutes after that Brain told me he was leaving to go to a place called Steamworks and then proceeded to show the International Sign for Headjobs.

Then I got very, very drunk.

End exciting Monday Blog Post.



Thursday, September 1, 2005

Ladies and Gentlemen

Soundtrack: John Lennon & Plastic Ono Band / Whatever gets you through the night

To be honest, it amazes me how shallow seduction has become with the invention of the internet. Like text messages sending your heart leaping and quickening your pulse. I am a fan of words and have had a number of cyber affairs, some consumated, others not.

Some consumated in very bizarre circumstances, but I won't go into that now.

Sometimes, I try and give the impression that I am a modern man, but this is false, and false does naught but set you back. So if I admit to my myself that I am in fact old fashioned I feel a Hell of a lot better about myself.

I am no swinger, though I have swung.

It's okay to believe in old fashioned romance. Candlelight dinners. Flowers. Love letters.

Fuck it! I really dig those things. And I think they are so much more real than a hot, breathless email, or a flirtatious text relationship. Though those things carry such power.

But, I'd like to sit in a park today, eating cheese and drinking champagne and staring and laughing and rolling in the grass down a hill, toasting one another and wrapping myself in romance and warmth. And love.

Yes. That would be nice.

I believe in forever. Though forever does not believe in me.

Though I am not yet one of them, I believe it is time for the return of the old fashioned Gent.

*starts growing moustache*

*twirls it*

I think it would be nice if once courtship begun, emails and texts were banned. Bringing romance and reality to the fore, reminding people of the here and now. Her, breathless and waiting. Him, arriving with flowers and opening doors.

Did I turn Ghey today?

Maybe baby. But I'm in a good mood, and I look forward to when opportunity next affords me the chance to get my Gent on.

I really forget these things sometimes. But they're nice to remember. Being nice to people is so fucking easy and so fucking beautiful. But we should do it in person more.

In person RULES.

*drapes jacket over her shoulder*

Let's get out into the sunshine.




Soundtrack: Goldfrapp / Ooh La La

I AM...




Can't type, hungover. Best. Interview / Drinking session. EVER.

Penis unable to move from painfully erect position.

Please advise.