I know this is a cliched shot of a conductor but it's still probably better than any other photos of the Armidale Symphoney Orchrestra
Monday, December 7, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Reflection
I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't tell them to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Where's your shame
You've left us up to our necks in it
Time may change me
But you can't trace time
Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace I'm going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Oh, look out you rock 'n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Pretty soon you're gonna get a little older
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can't trace time
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Dogs are dangourous.
Let me set the scene.
I was going for a ride on my bike like the dandy that I am, trying to avoid all the women that were running towards me trying to give me their numbers or at least to touch me or stroke my mutton chops. I went for a ride along the creek lands and turned around and started heading back after I got into town. I was almost home after I beat Lance Armstrong in a sprint, the wager of which was his entire personal fortune, minus his predisposition to cancer. WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, a dog came running towards to me, evidently attracted to my animal-like musk (that probably better explains all the women running toward me).
To take a more true stance in my storytelling, The dog was actually chasing a ball across the bike path.
I swerved to avoid it.
Clipped it.
And rolled onto the ground and high speed.
Fortunately my iPhone took the brunt of the impact on the ground. Hopefully the mark left by it will develop a bit more so I can get a better photo of it.
It might be a little easier to see if I wasn't so hairy a.k.a manly.
Also you should check out what my hand and jacket looked like after the accident.
As I gasped for air, my first reaction was to ask if the dog was alright. The owners seemed to be either stunned that I was alright or didn't really care that I fell. A few women that were sitting in their group didn't even bother to get up. Probably because their maternal extincts were, at some point, directed towards dogs rather than children. Although they didn't get up to check on the dog I hit either so maybe I am being harsh.
I was going for a ride on my bike like the dandy that I am, trying to avoid all the women that were running towards me trying to give me their numbers or at least to touch me or stroke my mutton chops. I went for a ride along the creek lands and turned around and started heading back after I got into town. I was almost home after I beat Lance Armstrong in a sprint, the wager of which was his entire personal fortune, minus his predisposition to cancer. WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, a dog came running towards to me, evidently attracted to my animal-like musk (that probably better explains all the women running toward me).
To take a more true stance in my storytelling, The dog was actually chasing a ball across the bike path.
I swerved to avoid it.
Clipped it.
And rolled onto the ground and high speed.
Fortunately my iPhone took the brunt of the impact on the ground. Hopefully the mark left by it will develop a bit more so I can get a better photo of it.
It might be a little easier to see if I wasn't so hairy a.k.a manly.
Also you should check out what my hand and jacket looked like after the accident.
As I gasped for air, my first reaction was to ask if the dog was alright. The owners seemed to be either stunned that I was alright or didn't really care that I fell. A few women that were sitting in their group didn't even bother to get up. Probably because their maternal extincts were, at some point, directed towards dogs rather than children. Although they didn't get up to check on the dog I hit either so maybe I am being harsh.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Bike culture
Since I learnt how to ride I've always had a bicycle. However, I'd end up riding heaps for a few weeks (after I got a new/used bike as a gift) and then stop after that. I think I rode to school a couple of times but it seemed to be pretty pointless seeing as my sister was being dropped off via car and I could just go with her.
It's not until I started my graphic design course at the TAFE in Armadillo that I become interested in bicycles again. It's a really short ride along flat ground AND on a bike path to get to TAFE from my homestead.
Unfortunately, the bike I was riding would be, if it was a car, a Ford Explorer. Meaning that it was pretty hard to ride with it's huge frame and nobbely tires (much like my dick).
I got lazy and stopped riding.
I then made a chance discovery at a Lifeline Store. An old road bike with markings that seemed to indicate it was Speedwell Flash 500 (I've never heard of the brand let alone the model but what I found out was that Speedwell was an Australian company that probably went under when we realized we could get bicycles cheaper if they were built by political prisoners in China).
You’ve already seen a photo of it if you are one of the 1000’s of people that follow my blog but I’ll put in another photo of it just in case.
That cost 35 dollars plus 85 dollars for new tires and tubes and chain lube.
A pretty good deal I think.
Another topic I wanted to write about was this strange culture that surrounds bikes that have fixed gears (I’ll explain what that means later.). It’s really not so much a culture that surrounds the bikes but just a culture that picked up the bikes as the new cool thing that units them. Please remember I am using the word “culture” in a loose context here, I’m not comparing them to the Athenians or anything.
Now, the subculture thing that has picked up this riding of fixed gear bikes are known as hipsters. Like any contemporary subculture (i.e. people that buy certain things) having well defined lines that separate you from other subcultures is not rad at all, someone would never describe themselves as a hipster they just would be. I think the best way to experience what they are is to either watch the TV series "Skins"or look at this photo.
That's pretty much it
I'm sure there is a snarky definition of what a hipster is on Urban Dictionary, but you can look it up yourself!
Anyway, to relate this back to bicycles and end the post.
The bike he is holding is pretty much what the first bikes were. 2 wheels on a frame with pedals that connected to the bake wheel with a chain. That's it.
Chances are you probably learnt to ride a bike like that when you were little. And all BMX bikes are like this. But I just don't understand why you'd want to use a bike like that. Sure if you bought a bike like mine for hardly anything and you wanted to take off all the gears and the brakes then that'd be fine. But like any good fad people have to pay, sometimes 1000s of dollars for bikes that are already like that.
These bikes still actually exist within the world of the squares and posers......as track racing bikes......in velodromes. Is it meant to be ironic that people ride them on the streets (in skinny jeans.......that probably cost 150 dollars). I suppose I should describe the riding mechanics of a track/fixed gear bike, at least as how I have come to understand it. The pedals will be moving constantly while you are in motion because it doesn't have a freewheel (The thing on a geared bike that clicks when you stop pedaling) You can't brake unless you use your feet. You also only have one gear ratio, so unless you live in a city that is really flat, it would be a pain in the butt to ride.
But then again, being a dork with brakes and gears sucks balls. I HATE MYSELF.
It's not until I started my graphic design course at the TAFE in Armadillo that I become interested in bicycles again. It's a really short ride along flat ground AND on a bike path to get to TAFE from my homestead.
Unfortunately, the bike I was riding would be, if it was a car, a Ford Explorer. Meaning that it was pretty hard to ride with it's huge frame and nobbely tires (much like my dick).
I got lazy and stopped riding.
I then made a chance discovery at a Lifeline Store. An old road bike with markings that seemed to indicate it was Speedwell Flash 500 (I've never heard of the brand let alone the model but what I found out was that Speedwell was an Australian company that probably went under when we realized we could get bicycles cheaper if they were built by political prisoners in China).
You’ve already seen a photo of it if you are one of the 1000’s of people that follow my blog but I’ll put in another photo of it just in case.
That cost 35 dollars plus 85 dollars for new tires and tubes and chain lube.
A pretty good deal I think.
Another topic I wanted to write about was this strange culture that surrounds bikes that have fixed gears (I’ll explain what that means later.). It’s really not so much a culture that surrounds the bikes but just a culture that picked up the bikes as the new cool thing that units them. Please remember I am using the word “culture” in a loose context here, I’m not comparing them to the Athenians or anything.
Now, the subculture thing that has picked up this riding of fixed gear bikes are known as hipsters. Like any contemporary subculture (i.e. people that buy certain things) having well defined lines that separate you from other subcultures is not rad at all, someone would never describe themselves as a hipster they just would be. I think the best way to experience what they are is to either watch the TV series "Skins"or look at this photo.
That's pretty much itI'm sure there is a snarky definition of what a hipster is on Urban Dictionary, but you can look it up yourself!
Anyway, to relate this back to bicycles and end the post.
The bike he is holding is pretty much what the first bikes were. 2 wheels on a frame with pedals that connected to the bake wheel with a chain. That's it.
Chances are you probably learnt to ride a bike like that when you were little. And all BMX bikes are like this. But I just don't understand why you'd want to use a bike like that. Sure if you bought a bike like mine for hardly anything and you wanted to take off all the gears and the brakes then that'd be fine. But like any good fad people have to pay, sometimes 1000s of dollars for bikes that are already like that.
These bikes still actually exist within the world of the squares and posers......as track racing bikes......in velodromes. Is it meant to be ironic that people ride them on the streets (in skinny jeans.......that probably cost 150 dollars). I suppose I should describe the riding mechanics of a track/fixed gear bike, at least as how I have come to understand it. The pedals will be moving constantly while you are in motion because it doesn't have a freewheel (The thing on a geared bike that clicks when you stop pedaling) You can't brake unless you use your feet. You also only have one gear ratio, so unless you live in a city that is really flat, it would be a pain in the butt to ride.
But then again, being a dork with brakes and gears sucks balls. I HATE MYSELF.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Moment of clarity
I should probably start off this post telling you about my usually Tuesday night trivia. I can't say I'm a huge fan of trivia (because I never know the answers to most questions) but it's mainly the extremely slick company that comes along with it that I keep returning for. Chances are the only people reading this are the people that go to trivia with me so they should all pad there egos a little because I said they were slick and also very sexy.
This particular trivia night, basically the one I just got home from, was even better because of two people that have just got back from lands afar.
My network connection just timed out. What does that even mean? Does it mean I've been using it too long? The reason I'm writing this and halting the flow of consciousness is because when I clicked the "okay" button to reconnect to the network it showed a little thinking animation and then almost immediately said "connection timed out" and then I clicked it again and again and again, each time it said "connection timed out" a split second after I had pressed the okay button. THEN I clicked okay again and it started the little thinking animation for about 10 seconds, then said "connection timed out". WHY?! Is it mocking me?! Why did it take 10 seconds to figure out that the connection was timed out that time, but the other times it took a couple of milliseconds. I got my hopes up when I saw that it was taking longer to think. "Oh good, it should work seeing as it is taking longer to....What?!" Anyway, I've probably written too much about this incident and I wouldn't be surprised If I'd lost some readers along the way. NO MATTER!
Back to the story.
Basically, the group that was there that night was pretty much my Dream Team of friends (Missing one, of course. You know who you are) and it was an all around fun night. We even came 4th in the actual trivia part of the night, which is almost unheard of. 10th is usually the high water mark for us.
I could go into more detail about the laughs we had and the other fun times but it would pretty much only appeal to the people that went and I'm trying to broaden my "oh so sweet" writing abilities (i.e. broaden the appeal to a wider audience).
After people started to leave and the beer began to wear off, a trio I had formed walked down to a fast food place to enjoy the fine dining in Armidale.
The trio then became mono when I decided to walk home by myself. To any reader that lives outside of Armidale or a small rural town it's very strange walking home at almost midnight. It's sort of what I'd really love the town to be like but in the daylight.
Devoid of anything
You hear the odd car traveling by but the route I took meant that it was always in the distance. I walk along a bicycle path that follows a creek. I was JUST about to call the creek ugly but it's actually really nice when you get to the parts that aren't full of shopping carts and rubbish. You can climb down into these secret passages that are formed by trees and grass and then people walking throw them. Sort of the same way ants will carve out a little path from them walking along a path going back to there hive.
The bike path was built along the creek, first because it cuts straight through the town and second because no one would build houses or businesses or iron smelts there because it's a area that gets flooded at least once or twice a year.
This walk along the bike path was one of the best walks of my life. Everything just felt good. That alone wasn't the reason for it being the best walk of my life. It was also a great time to think things out, I didn't make any new breakthroughs in what I ponder (How did we get from a rock that was an optimal distance from an optimally large ball of hydrogen to living in little squares, traveling and making pointless things out of said rock. Wait, does this astronomical fluke mean that it can't be and that there must be a easy to understand meaning......or is that logical fallacy...I think it is.....damn, it's dark walking along this bike path)
Another thought that I was churning through my brain drain was about a certain blog post that I didn't know was intended for me but found out that it was for me because a trivia friend explained it to me. That was a lame sentence, they probably all are, no mind.
I was complaining about ANOTHER blog that was just this strange pining for a boy. The boy is nothing special, I suppose. He's a douche, but it works for him.
Alone I wouldn't mind the pining, I would HAPPILY read a 1000 word essay about why him ignoring this blogger is awful and how it should be different. But the real thing that annoys me is WHERE this is being blogged from.
8 Million people within a 40 minute train ride. Are you waiting for them to come to you?
To some people this may not be making much sense, but the bold part wasn't meant for you!
Ha, this fantastic song from HMS Pinafore just came on and I'm singing along to it.
This particular trivia night, basically the one I just got home from, was even better because of two people that have just got back from lands afar.
My network connection just timed out. What does that even mean? Does it mean I've been using it too long? The reason I'm writing this and halting the flow of consciousness is because when I clicked the "okay" button to reconnect to the network it showed a little thinking animation and then almost immediately said "connection timed out" and then I clicked it again and again and again, each time it said "connection timed out" a split second after I had pressed the okay button. THEN I clicked okay again and it started the little thinking animation for about 10 seconds, then said "connection timed out". WHY?! Is it mocking me?! Why did it take 10 seconds to figure out that the connection was timed out that time, but the other times it took a couple of milliseconds. I got my hopes up when I saw that it was taking longer to think. "Oh good, it should work seeing as it is taking longer to....What?!" Anyway, I've probably written too much about this incident and I wouldn't be surprised If I'd lost some readers along the way. NO MATTER!
Back to the story.
Basically, the group that was there that night was pretty much my Dream Team of friends (Missing one, of course. You know who you are) and it was an all around fun night. We even came 4th in the actual trivia part of the night, which is almost unheard of. 10th is usually the high water mark for us.
I could go into more detail about the laughs we had and the other fun times but it would pretty much only appeal to the people that went and I'm trying to broaden my "oh so sweet" writing abilities (i.e. broaden the appeal to a wider audience).
After people started to leave and the beer began to wear off, a trio I had formed walked down to a fast food place to enjoy the fine dining in Armidale.
The trio then became mono when I decided to walk home by myself. To any reader that lives outside of Armidale or a small rural town it's very strange walking home at almost midnight. It's sort of what I'd really love the town to be like but in the daylight.
Devoid of anything
You hear the odd car traveling by but the route I took meant that it was always in the distance. I walk along a bicycle path that follows a creek. I was JUST about to call the creek ugly but it's actually really nice when you get to the parts that aren't full of shopping carts and rubbish. You can climb down into these secret passages that are formed by trees and grass and then people walking throw them. Sort of the same way ants will carve out a little path from them walking along a path going back to there hive.
The bike path was built along the creek, first because it cuts straight through the town and second because no one would build houses or businesses or iron smelts there because it's a area that gets flooded at least once or twice a year.
This walk along the bike path was one of the best walks of my life. Everything just felt good. That alone wasn't the reason for it being the best walk of my life. It was also a great time to think things out, I didn't make any new breakthroughs in what I ponder (How did we get from a rock that was an optimal distance from an optimally large ball of hydrogen to living in little squares, traveling and making pointless things out of said rock. Wait, does this astronomical fluke mean that it can't be and that there must be a easy to understand meaning......or is that logical fallacy...I think it is.....damn, it's dark walking along this bike path)
Another thought that I was churning through my brain drain was about a certain blog post that I didn't know was intended for me but found out that it was for me because a trivia friend explained it to me. That was a lame sentence, they probably all are, no mind.
I was complaining about ANOTHER blog that was just this strange pining for a boy. The boy is nothing special, I suppose. He's a douche, but it works for him.
Alone I wouldn't mind the pining, I would HAPPILY read a 1000 word essay about why him ignoring this blogger is awful and how it should be different. But the real thing that annoys me is WHERE this is being blogged from.
8 Million people within a 40 minute train ride. Are you waiting for them to come to you?
To some people this may not be making much sense, but the bold part wasn't meant for you!
Ha, this fantastic song from HMS Pinafore just came on and I'm singing along to it.
A British tar is a soaring soul
As free as a mountain bird
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word
His nose should pant and his lip should curl
His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl
His bosom should heave and his heart should glow
And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow
His eyes should flash with an inborn fire
His brow with scorn be wrung
He never should bow down to a domineering frown
Or the tang of a tyrant tongue
His foot should stamp and his throat should growl
His hair should curl and his face should scowl
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude
And this should be his customary attitude
Oh god, timeless. But not really.
This blog was originally going to be me going "Why don't you do this? why don't you do that?"
but then I thought "Why don't YOU do that!?" and I decided "YES, I will do that!". So starting
tomorrow I shall start asking people to be interviewed by me for this blog. Writing that down,
It doesn't seem as exciting as when I first came up with the idea but the first impression is
usually the right one, so I'm going to run the pig skin into the end zone for a TOUCHDOWN.
As I was walking along my creeky bike path I decided I would start with my Graphic Design
classand see if anyone would be interested in talking to me and letting me record the
conversation and also my grandmother, who I KNOW will have some amazing stories.
After that I plan to just stand up in crowded areas and yell and tell people listen
(That sounds like a crazy plan but it's almost exactly the same as what politicians do).
After my walk I laid down in the middle of a football field and watched the stars.
Thinking about the night I had a shooting star streaked across the sky, the poetry
almost moved me to tears of joy, but I'm not a faggot, so I punched a kitten and went home.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Third time
I have a bricked Xbox 360 for the third time.
I hope to god they fix it for free like all the other times.
I've been bummed out lately about the fact that I suck at making girls jump my bones, so I thought....
"I know, I'll kill some cops on GTA 4 as revenge for them killing kangaroos in real life"
I get a 4 star wanted rating then BAM.
So, I sucked it up and went to the Xbox site and filled in the box that asks you to describe the problem with this.
"Third time! THIRD TIME! Started freezing in a very artsy mosaic of checkers then it red ringed on me. People still have Atari 2600s that work! My Nintendo 64 still works! Maybe I should not bother sending it in and just play some Mario Kart.
I'd be very appreciative if you could repair it for free like you did the other times. At least you can do that for me."
I hope to god they fix it for free like all the other times.
I've been bummed out lately about the fact that I suck at making girls jump my bones, so I thought....
"I know, I'll kill some cops on GTA 4 as revenge for them killing kangaroos in real life"
I get a 4 star wanted rating then BAM.
So, I sucked it up and went to the Xbox site and filled in the box that asks you to describe the problem with this.
"Third time! THIRD TIME! Started freezing in a very artsy mosaic of checkers then it red ringed on me. People still have Atari 2600s that work! My Nintendo 64 still works! Maybe I should not bother sending it in and just play some Mario Kart.
I'd be very appreciative if you could repair it for free like you did the other times. At least you can do that for me."
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Goon
Really really really early logo for TAFE project. I'm going to be creating the image for a vineyard that just focuses on getting young people smashed and hosting rave parties. (View it in "All sizes" to get ride of the black stripe, fucking flickr)
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Waldoof Part 1
I first heard of this event from a friend who wanted to go out to take photos. From what she told me about it, it sounded like it needed to be documented on film (or, in this case, JPEGs). What I gathered from the description of it was that it was a bunch of people getting high on whatever substance they could find that alters there state of mind and dancing around a bonfire in the middle of the pine forest. For anyone that doesn't know, Armidale has a State Forrest full of pine trees. I don't know why I mention this seeing as all my readers are probably well aware of that but I still like to make sure that any outsider (Hisssssssssss!) is up with the story.
The night was August the 1st. I twas dark because the Earth had rotated around and Armidale was facing away from the sun. I went to the bottle shop with my mum after deciding that experiencing this night sober would probably leave me disappointed and cold. I bought a hip flask of Southern Comfort and we proceeded towards the Good Ol' Pine Forrest. After much yelling about were we should turn off we pulled up next to a gate and I went over to read the sign that was posted up on it. I was a warning about the fact that a WW2 reenactment was taking place and that there would be people with fake guns patrolling the forest and firing blanks. I'd heard that this was happening but I didn't realise how intense it was. Someone pulled up behind us, a couple of guys hoped out and started wondering up to the car.
"Where's the Doof at!!?!"
"Not sure, We're trying to work that out, I think it's up a bit further past a bus stop"
"There aren't any bus stops out here!"
"Hang on I have to piss" *Turns around and starts pissing*
"I'll ring ----ey , he'll tell us where it is"
*Louder than before* "-----EY! Where the fuck is the Doof at........Yeah?.......sooo up past the bus stop? okay" *hangs up* "----ey says he will put some lights one for us to show us where to go"
"Okay, you guys can follow us if you want"
After that the speed off, going so fast that over as little as 300 meters we'd lost them. Fortunately it wasn't to hard to find seeing as there was all these tire marks turning off onto a dirt road and that there was a plume of dust leading down said road that made it almost impossible to see in front of you. The had stopped and got out of the car a few hundred meters down the road. The car they were in had turned around and sped off. I got out and decided to join them on there trek towards the where ever the Waldoof was happening. My mother wasn't too pleased with this idea but I set her mind at ease (somehow) and hoped out of the car.
This is where I will end part 1 because I start to get antsy when I write for too long and I need to eat breakfast. Part 2 will probably come out once Hanna starts bugging me about it.
The night was August the 1st. I twas dark because the Earth had rotated around and Armidale was facing away from the sun. I went to the bottle shop with my mum after deciding that experiencing this night sober would probably leave me disappointed and cold. I bought a hip flask of Southern Comfort and we proceeded towards the Good Ol' Pine Forrest. After much yelling about were we should turn off we pulled up next to a gate and I went over to read the sign that was posted up on it. I was a warning about the fact that a WW2 reenactment was taking place and that there would be people with fake guns patrolling the forest and firing blanks. I'd heard that this was happening but I didn't realise how intense it was. Someone pulled up behind us, a couple of guys hoped out and started wondering up to the car.
"Where's the Doof at!!?!"
"Not sure, We're trying to work that out, I think it's up a bit further past a bus stop"
"There aren't any bus stops out here!"
"Hang on I have to piss" *Turns around and starts pissing*
"I'll ring ----ey , he'll tell us where it is"
*Louder than before* "-----EY! Where the fuck is the Doof at........Yeah?.......sooo up past the bus stop? okay" *hangs up* "----ey says he will put some lights one for us to show us where to go"
"Okay, you guys can follow us if you want"
After that the speed off, going so fast that over as little as 300 meters we'd lost them. Fortunately it wasn't to hard to find seeing as there was all these tire marks turning off onto a dirt road and that there was a plume of dust leading down said road that made it almost impossible to see in front of you. The had stopped and got out of the car a few hundred meters down the road. The car they were in had turned around and sped off. I got out and decided to join them on there trek towards the where ever the Waldoof was happening. My mother wasn't too pleased with this idea but I set her mind at ease (somehow) and hoped out of the car.
This is where I will end part 1 because I start to get antsy when I write for too long and I need to eat breakfast. Part 2 will probably come out once Hanna starts bugging me about it.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Driving to Thunderbolts Cave
I decided that I was starting to go stir crazy inside my house, trapped like some kind of primitive ape man. So after I went and filled in some form regarding my recent acceptance into a TAFE course (more on that later) I left for Guyra because I'm all about the excitement of the spud capital of Australia. I was actually looking forward to going out on the highway for the first time in ages. I was, however, greeted not by a nice relaxing drive but with the usual thing you are greeted with in any populated part of the planet: idiots. If I'm going 100km/h why do you need to overtake me while there is oncoming traffic coming quickly towards you?! I mean, I don't care that it's breaking the law, I care that it's a stupid way to kill yourself and others. I read about a news reporter who, after a newsreel of a recent shooting said "I keeping with channel 5s promise to show you the latest blood and guts, and in living colour, I give you the first attempted suicide" and then shot herself in the head! Now THAT is a way to go out. She even left instruction on what the report that was going to cover should say, like giving her condition as critical. I don't really condone suicide but if you want to not only risk your life and the lives of people you don't even know, you should certainly think about it. Anyway what I'm trying to say is that you're a little bitch if you overtake/speed just so you can get to Joey Joe Joes Burger and Chip Emporium 5 minutes faster.
After I got to Guyra and drove through main street I promptly left to go to Thunderbolts Cave, having seen the sign earlier while I was approaching. For anyone reading this who is not familiar with New England folk lore, Thunderbolt was a full time professional bad ass gentlemen. He was a bushranger who would totally fuck your shit up if you crossed him and happened to have money. Anyway after the cops starting chasing him and lulz-killing he decided to hide it in cave. How he found this rock in the middle of no where is beyond me, he probably managed to find it because he was some kind of super human god-who-walks-among-men. I'm actually in a doctors surgery typing this on my phone, I shall add more of my story later.
The Next Day
I'm back at an actual computer and discovered all the spelling mistakes I made whilst typing on my phone. Anyway, After starting back from Guyra I turned off the highway and headed out to the cave. The road out there was pretty bad and once you got to the car park you started to realise this probably isn't part of a national park. It was a simply a part of land with no grass and a couple of try trunks designating where you should park. After getting out of the car I had no fucking idea where to go, I was just out in the middle of no where. So out of fear of getting lost I put a way point on my iPhone/GPS in case I became entrenched in guerrilla fighting and got lost.
Then a couple of seconds later I saw the sign telling me were to go.
Now feeling like a sweet he-man I trekked down a hill to this cave.
Finding it one of my first thoughts was "You could probably have some kind of sweet party in this hole" and seeing the broken glass in the dirt I assumed that it may have already been done, quite possibly only by lame yokels.
SO! My revelation means we should definitely have some kind of party out there.
THE END!
After I got to Guyra and drove through main street I promptly left to go to Thunderbolts Cave, having seen the sign earlier while I was approaching. For anyone reading this who is not familiar with New England folk lore, Thunderbolt was a full time professional bad ass gentlemen. He was a bushranger who would totally fuck your shit up if you crossed him and happened to have money. Anyway after the cops starting chasing him and lulz-killing he decided to hide it in cave. How he found this rock in the middle of no where is beyond me, he probably managed to find it because he was some kind of super human god-who-walks-among-men. I'm actually in a doctors surgery typing this on my phone, I shall add more of my story later.
The Next Day
I'm back at an actual computer and discovered all the spelling mistakes I made whilst typing on my phone. Anyway, After starting back from Guyra I turned off the highway and headed out to the cave. The road out there was pretty bad and once you got to the car park you started to realise this probably isn't part of a national park. It was a simply a part of land with no grass and a couple of try trunks designating where you should park. After getting out of the car I had no fucking idea where to go, I was just out in the middle of no where. So out of fear of getting lost I put a way point on my iPhone/GPS in case I became entrenched in guerrilla fighting and got lost.
Then a couple of seconds later I saw the sign telling me were to go.
Now feeling like a sweet he-man I trekked down a hill to this cave.
Finding it one of my first thoughts was "You could probably have some kind of sweet party in this hole" and seeing the broken glass in the dirt I assumed that it may have already been done, quite possibly only by lame yokels.
SO! My revelation means we should definitely have some kind of party out there.
THE END!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Hindsight
One of my first blog posts was about my plan to infiltrate the pub posing as a reporter. Having gone to the pubs in Armidale no more than 10 times I've pretty much seen everything there is to see in regards to that scene. Basically it's like God got sick of originality and just started drawing uninteresting caricatures with carbon paper, these endless copies that just assimilate into the environment they happen to be in and the people they are around. I am, of course, only judging people off there appearance and mannerisms and what they scream to each other when a new one arrives but after observing all these things the prognosis isn't all that good.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Did you find a card with this URL on it?
Chances are If you're on here and don't know me personally it's because you found a card with a URL on it that directed you to this page and my flickr account. Basically it's part of my efforts to try and reach out to a greater number of cunts than I had been doing before. Check out all the words I've said prior to this article. If you like them say so, If you hate them then make nice and just say you liked them.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tutorial: How to get email notification when someone comments on your blog so that you can respond and not have people make Voodoo dolls of you...
...because they thought you were ignoring them!
Okay, this should be the first of many tutorials relating to how not to offend Luke by ignoring nice shit he says! (Subsequently, I have in fact forgotten what I said)
First you should go and sign into your blog and do these four things IN ORDER. If you do it out of order it won't work!
Okay, this should be the first of many tutorials relating to how not to offend Luke by ignoring nice shit he says! (Subsequently, I have in fact forgotten what I said)
First you should go and sign into your blog and do these four things IN ORDER. If you do it out of order it won't work!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
People will print things for you if you give them money.
I changed the card slightly and made a sexier, higher resolution and more sensual copy of it.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
If I was ever to profit off the distribution of pirated movies.....
.....I'd only copy and sell movies that have unskippable anti-piracy ads before the DVD menu appears. And I'd copy twice as many movies if they used the ad that says "We all like seeing a good Aussie film" and I'd sell them for half price too. Just so when the Wanner brothers look at the piracy statistics for the third fiscal quarter, all they'll see, written in the middle of a piece of paper in big block letters is "YOU GUYS ARE FUCKING CUNTS AND NEED TO NOT PUT FUCKING ANNOYING ASS ANTI PIRACY ADS AT THE START OF YOUR FUCKING MOVIES, YOU CUNTS!"
Friday, May 8, 2009
Beating my little fists on the table to get attention, figuratively.
Do you like it!? My plan is to make these biz cards either myself or get a place to make them for me, then leave them around town and also hand them out to people when I take a picture of them. I'm slightly worried that those links are going to break though, the top one links to my Flickr and the bottom one links to this blog.
Hopefully I can generate some kind of a stir in the Armidale community and they will crown me King of New England and I'll get a hat with my name on it. It would also have a shotgun on it and a flashing neon light of a pole dancer. I might make a picture of it just in case someone wants to start working on it.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Xbox Live friends and team mates
I've been sick lately and lost my voice. I slept all day today and so I haven't been able to sleep tonight. So, I've been playing Call of Duty World at War (It's a pretty standard game but entertaining enough) and I got another fantastic message from someone. This someone goes by the name "xX ScRuB TuB Xx". The message was as follows (this is a direct quote)
"ya your a fucking bitch ass panzy and have to use jug, and you still go negative!!!!! fuck you"
Now it even took me, a super nerd, a little while to understand what he meant. In fact, I still don't understand part of it. What he is referring to when he says "jug" is a system in the game when you are playing multiplayer, to choose different attributes for yourself. It's called a Perk system and I never pay any attention to it, I want to shoot Nazis, I don't want to create certain soldiers for certain situations. Jug is actually an abbreviation of Juggernaut which is an attribute that gives you more health, I had to look it up to actually see that I was in fact, using it. Unbeknownst to me but this is actually unsportsmen like of me and upon learning that I had committed this most insidious faux pas I was met with an overwhelming sense of guilt and was about to kill myself. But then I watched some Youtube videos of kittens in shoes and felt better.
I still don't know what "going negative" is. But it seems I did go "negative" and this was something, that coupled with using Juggernaut, should NOT have happened. Now, like anyone else, I must try and learn from my mistakes and try to gather some sense of direction in these uncertain times. Obviously the game makers, there hearts filled with a twisted malice, put some options in the game as a test of character, and I have failed them. THE SHAME!
I replied to him saying
"Do you even understand ow ridiculous you sound" or something like that.
EDIT 22/3/09
I got a reply from SCRUB TUB or whatever his name was. Again, this is a direct quote.
"i dont even really care how ridiculous i sound cause your being a bitch a using jug. cause you suck ass and you still cant go positive. i would have to fill myself i had that dumbass perk just so i could get more ammo bitch.... play 1v.1 and if you beat me i will shut the fuck up but if i win you cant use that perk if i ever play you again?"
Make of this what you will but It seems to me this person is probably under the age of 18 (I'd hazard a guess that he is about 14) and doesn't have anything to really strive for except this game. It's probably not his fault either but that doesn't mean I'm not going to tell him he is really pathetic and his life doesn't mean anything.
More updates will follow.
"ya your a fucking bitch ass panzy and have to use jug, and you still go negative!!!!! fuck you"
Now it even took me, a super nerd, a little while to understand what he meant. In fact, I still don't understand part of it. What he is referring to when he says "jug" is a system in the game when you are playing multiplayer, to choose different attributes for yourself. It's called a Perk system and I never pay any attention to it, I want to shoot Nazis, I don't want to create certain soldiers for certain situations. Jug is actually an abbreviation of Juggernaut which is an attribute that gives you more health, I had to look it up to actually see that I was in fact, using it. Unbeknownst to me but this is actually unsportsmen like of me and upon learning that I had committed this most insidious faux pas I was met with an overwhelming sense of guilt and was about to kill myself. But then I watched some Youtube videos of kittens in shoes and felt better.
I still don't know what "going negative" is. But it seems I did go "negative" and this was something, that coupled with using Juggernaut, should NOT have happened. Now, like anyone else, I must try and learn from my mistakes and try to gather some sense of direction in these uncertain times. Obviously the game makers, there hearts filled with a twisted malice, put some options in the game as a test of character, and I have failed them. THE SHAME!
I replied to him saying
"Do you even understand ow ridiculous you sound" or something like that.
EDIT 22/3/09
I got a reply from SCRUB TUB or whatever his name was. Again, this is a direct quote.
"i dont even really care how ridiculous i sound cause your being a bitch a using jug. cause you suck ass and you still cant go positive. i would have to fill myself i had that dumbass perk just so i could get more ammo bitch.... play 1v.1 and if you beat me i will shut the fuck up but if i win you cant use that perk if i ever play you again?"
Make of this what you will but It seems to me this person is probably under the age of 18 (I'd hazard a guess that he is about 14) and doesn't have anything to really strive for except this game. It's probably not his fault either but that doesn't mean I'm not going to tell him he is really pathetic and his life doesn't mean anything.
More updates will follow.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Meningococcal Part 2
I was told to curl up in the fetal position so a doctor could perform a lumber puncture. It involves sticking a needle into your lower back to drain spinal fluids. For these fluids are where the Meningococcal live and breed! So it had to be tested. The whole experience wasn't painful at all, It was just annoying be curled up in a ball for so long while feeling nauseous and having the worst headache of your life. As the doctor was draining the fluids he said to me "Well, the fluids are really clear, this is a good sign. Usually they would be a cloudy colour from the infection." However, this still needed to be sent to pathology to be tested for the bacteria, so we had to wait an hour for the results. I can't remember much of that hour, come to think of it, I can't remember much after the results came back saying that I had Meningococcal. I remember not being that worried because I the doctor said we had caught it early and that they were going to put me straight onto a penicillin drip. I'll insert a picture of my funky penicillin friend here.
This is actually Benzylpenicillin, note the Benzene ring on the left of the molecule. Anyway, all that happened after the diagnosis was that the started giving me that intravenously and I got better.
I was put in an ICU room by myself and the nurses had to wear masks to make sure they didn't get my stupid illness. After about 3 days I think I got moved into a room in the childrens ward. All the nurses were super and did WAY more then the doctors. Doctors are all talk and don't do any work. They just work hard in uni and think they're all that and a bag of potato chips, but nurses are awesomely better. Nurses FTW, Lolz!
But there was one nurse that resented me for being in the children's ward and kept telling me "You're very luck to have your own room, the other ward is being renovated and you get to stay here"
I called her Nurse Ratched behind her back, I thought I was super funny.
This is actually Benzylpenicillin, note the Benzene ring on the left of the molecule. Anyway, all that happened after the diagnosis was that the started giving me that intravenously and I got better.
I was put in an ICU room by myself and the nurses had to wear masks to make sure they didn't get my stupid illness. After about 3 days I think I got moved into a room in the childrens ward. All the nurses were super and did WAY more then the doctors. Doctors are all talk and don't do any work. They just work hard in uni and think they're all that and a bag of potato chips, but nurses are awesomely better. Nurses FTW, Lolz!
But there was one nurse that resented me for being in the children's ward and kept telling me "You're very luck to have your own room, the other ward is being renovated and you get to stay here"
I called her Nurse Ratched behind her back, I thought I was super funny.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Meningococcal Part 1
Okay, I've decided to tell the story of how I got Meningococcal and what that was like. Most of the people reading this probably have already been told the story of how I got it and what it was like and what went on but I want to test out this new keyboard I got (It's a Apple Wireless one and it's a pain in the arse to connect to my laptop, nice to type on, but otherwise I would suggest getting one with a cable, because not everything needs to be wireless, you fucks). I will start at the very beginning, as in where I (suspect) I contracted this disease.
I'd gone with Anne-Marie to Sydney for New Years Eve (That's another story for another time) and we went to this club, see, and I was pretty drunk. I though it would help me forget that I wasn't having much fun. I ended up engaging in a make out session with a girl (who I later found out was a nurse). I've my hypothesis is correct then this is when I probably ingested the bacteria. However, Meningococcal is a disease that can lay dormant in people, living up inside your nose, like tiny nose gnomes, And it can just spread into your brain and the rest of your body from there. So either I had it for ages and it just set in, or I got it from kissing a girl who had it laying dormant in her. Either way it was in me, and It wished to destroy me.
After I got back from Sydney, I think it was like a week after, I had a really sore throat and stayed in bed for the day. That night I tried to sleep but I felt terrible. I was just tossing and turning in my bed and couldn't get to sleep. My sore throat had gone but my head hurt pretty bad, like some head gnomes were mining for brain juice inside my head. I took some pain killers but that didn't do squat. My parents and sister had gone to Coffs for the day so I had no one to ask for assistance. I decided that the reason I couldn't get to sleep was because my bed was feeling strange, So I tried to sleep out on a mattress in the lounge room. I did manage to fall asleep only to keep having these strange dreams about guns being taken apart by old people and dropped through chute. Once I was awoken by this dream whenever I shut my eyes to get back to sleep I'd just see these old people dismantling guns and putting them done this chute. I was in so much pain by now that I didn't really think about how absurd it was, I just wanted to sleep. The head gnomes boss was angry because the gnomes weren't meeting there quota of brain juice and they weren't bringing in gnomely sized piles of cash. So evidently they shifted there production into overdrive.
I began to actually want to see a doctor when I developed a rash. And, I shit you not, I immediately thought "This seems like Meningococcal". I tried to search for it on the internet but I couldn't spell it. I started to worry a bit and called my parents mobile, they were about 10 minutes away from Armidale. After they arrived they called a doctor that was on call so he could met us at the hospital, rather than having to sit around and wait ages.
The ride to the hospital was pretty awful, we just got a new car that had pretty firm suspension. So ever bump shock my brain around and caused me even more pain. We got to the hospital and we went in and sat in the waiting room, it was only about 15 minutes until the nurse took me into triage. She took down my symptoms and looked at my rash (little red dots all over my body) and then the doctor came in and upon seeing nor real signs of anything serious, told me to take to strong pain killers and go home. Both my parents and I said "We think it's Meningococcal" but my red dots all over my skin weren't red enough or some shit. He simply told us to come back if it go any worse. I'm not mad at him or anything, it's pretty big deal to tell with 100% accuracy whether you have Meningococcal or not, and I'll get into that in a minute.
So we went home, I took the meds he gave me, lay in bed for an hour with my mum sitting on the end of the bed, and I just felt even worse. Mum called the nurses and they suggested a shower, but I almost passed out walking over to the shower so we decided to go back to the hospital. This is when, on top of the tremendous headache, sore neck and almost complete exhaustion from lack of sleep, I started to feel nauseous as well. So we got back to the hospital after one of the longest and most painful car journeys of my life and the nurse took me straight in and put me on a bed. She tried asking me questions but all I could really get out was that my head hurt. The doctor in the ER that night had seen me along with the doctor on call that came in. The nurse told me that the doctor couldn't come and see me just yet because, and I quote, "He is just finishing up some paper work" I couldn't believe it, but I was too sick to do anything except throw up, which I did. The doctor that was there was a strange man with big hair and he was just wearing one of those shirts you get from KMart or Target with the squiggly graffiti-esque writing on them, because dat shit is tigggght, bra. He had a look at me and said things like "Hmmm, so he has been feeling nauseous now too?" and "Hmmmm, okay."
Then finally he come into the room after a nurse had given me a muscle relaxant to try and ease the pain. He told me that the only way to tell for sure whether this was Meningococcal or not was to do a lumber puncture (oh yeah, the doctors had finally caught up to my diagnostic skills and decided it may be Meningococcal). Now, the only thing I've heard about lumber punctures is that when my mum was watching one being performed when she was doing work experience as a nurse when she was a kid, she had passed out from shock. So It's safe to say I was pretty worried.
Anyway, that'll do for part one. I'm tired and reliving the events like this is kind of crappy, which is odd.
I'd gone with Anne-Marie to Sydney for New Years Eve (That's another story for another time) and we went to this club, see, and I was pretty drunk. I though it would help me forget that I wasn't having much fun. I ended up engaging in a make out session with a girl (who I later found out was a nurse). I've my hypothesis is correct then this is when I probably ingested the bacteria. However, Meningococcal is a disease that can lay dormant in people, living up inside your nose, like tiny nose gnomes, And it can just spread into your brain and the rest of your body from there. So either I had it for ages and it just set in, or I got it from kissing a girl who had it laying dormant in her. Either way it was in me, and It wished to destroy me.
After I got back from Sydney, I think it was like a week after, I had a really sore throat and stayed in bed for the day. That night I tried to sleep but I felt terrible. I was just tossing and turning in my bed and couldn't get to sleep. My sore throat had gone but my head hurt pretty bad, like some head gnomes were mining for brain juice inside my head. I took some pain killers but that didn't do squat. My parents and sister had gone to Coffs for the day so I had no one to ask for assistance. I decided that the reason I couldn't get to sleep was because my bed was feeling strange, So I tried to sleep out on a mattress in the lounge room. I did manage to fall asleep only to keep having these strange dreams about guns being taken apart by old people and dropped through chute. Once I was awoken by this dream whenever I shut my eyes to get back to sleep I'd just see these old people dismantling guns and putting them done this chute. I was in so much pain by now that I didn't really think about how absurd it was, I just wanted to sleep. The head gnomes boss was angry because the gnomes weren't meeting there quota of brain juice and they weren't bringing in gnomely sized piles of cash. So evidently they shifted there production into overdrive.
I began to actually want to see a doctor when I developed a rash. And, I shit you not, I immediately thought "This seems like Meningococcal". I tried to search for it on the internet but I couldn't spell it. I started to worry a bit and called my parents mobile, they were about 10 minutes away from Armidale. After they arrived they called a doctor that was on call so he could met us at the hospital, rather than having to sit around and wait ages.
The ride to the hospital was pretty awful, we just got a new car that had pretty firm suspension. So ever bump shock my brain around and caused me even more pain. We got to the hospital and we went in and sat in the waiting room, it was only about 15 minutes until the nurse took me into triage. She took down my symptoms and looked at my rash (little red dots all over my body) and then the doctor came in and upon seeing nor real signs of anything serious, told me to take to strong pain killers and go home. Both my parents and I said "We think it's Meningococcal" but my red dots all over my skin weren't red enough or some shit. He simply told us to come back if it go any worse. I'm not mad at him or anything, it's pretty big deal to tell with 100% accuracy whether you have Meningococcal or not, and I'll get into that in a minute.
So we went home, I took the meds he gave me, lay in bed for an hour with my mum sitting on the end of the bed, and I just felt even worse. Mum called the nurses and they suggested a shower, but I almost passed out walking over to the shower so we decided to go back to the hospital. This is when, on top of the tremendous headache, sore neck and almost complete exhaustion from lack of sleep, I started to feel nauseous as well. So we got back to the hospital after one of the longest and most painful car journeys of my life and the nurse took me straight in and put me on a bed. She tried asking me questions but all I could really get out was that my head hurt. The doctor in the ER that night had seen me along with the doctor on call that came in. The nurse told me that the doctor couldn't come and see me just yet because, and I quote, "He is just finishing up some paper work" I couldn't believe it, but I was too sick to do anything except throw up, which I did. The doctor that was there was a strange man with big hair and he was just wearing one of those shirts you get from KMart or Target with the squiggly graffiti-esque writing on them, because dat shit is tigggght, bra. He had a look at me and said things like "Hmmm, so he has been feeling nauseous now too?" and "Hmmmm, okay."
Then finally he come into the room after a nurse had given me a muscle relaxant to try and ease the pain. He told me that the only way to tell for sure whether this was Meningococcal or not was to do a lumber puncture (oh yeah, the doctors had finally caught up to my diagnostic skills and decided it may be Meningococcal). Now, the only thing I've heard about lumber punctures is that when my mum was watching one being performed when she was doing work experience as a nurse when she was a kid, she had passed out from shock. So It's safe to say I was pretty worried.
Anyway, that'll do for part one. I'm tired and reliving the events like this is kind of crappy, which is odd.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Meningococcal sucks a fair bit
As all of my readers already know, I was in hospital for a week undergoing treatment for meningococcal, a disease caused by the bacteria Neisseria meningitidis which is best known for it role in causing meningitis (At least this is what wikipedia tells me). I can tell you from personal experience Neisseria meningitidis fucking sucks balls. As well as almost killing me it put me through the worst pain I've ever had to experience, it's quiet the little bitch. I'd go into the whole experience in more detail but I'd rather not relive it through my story telling.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
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