| Love is like Shop-A-Dockets |
[Oct. 5th, 2005|01:45 pm] |
A source of both inevitable disappointment and perpetual hope.
Also it can get you a half price discount on a spray-on tan, if you bring in a friend. |
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| KICK ASS YUPPIE ART-DECO APARTMENT MADE ENTIRELY FROM AWESOME |
[Aug. 8th, 2005|10:39 pm] |
Are you a professional female between 23 and 30 1 ?
Do you want to live in an awesome, stylish art-deco apartment, literally meters from Acland St 2? With a nice central courtyard with fountain, polished floorboards, a fireplace, a kudu, brand new everything, kickarse neighbors, and a Melrose-Place type vibe 3? Would you like to watch the OC 4 on an obscenely large telly?
‘Course you would. I mean, who wouldn’t, really?
Do you:
- have a real job?
- do normal things, like have friends, and exercise sometimes, and stuff?
- like cocktails?
- fight crime 5?
Good.
To share with incredibly handsome 24 year old techno-yuppie IT ninja dude who travels a lot. I'm a grown up, so I keep the place clean.
Your room’s sunny, has polished floorboards, white brick walls, and is 3.3 x 2.7 meters. Rent’s $757 a month 6
Call Mike on 0419 394 504.
1. Professional and female... not professional at being female. That would be weird.
2. And not like a eleventy billion meters either. Like about twelve.
3. I'm kinda the ‘Jake’ character. You know, the hot guy. Not trying it on or anything, just saying where I fit in. So now you know.
4. This is what girls do, I am reliably told.
5. Am flexible on this requirement.
6. Yes, per month. Dunno what’s up with all these other ads who give rent weekly. Who pays rent weekly? They’re clearly up to something dodgy. You shouldn’t even write their numbers down. Just mine. |
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[Jun. 14th, 2005|06:40 pm] |
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life is too short to waste on all the shit that doesn't make me happy |
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[Jun. 5th, 2005|08:46 pm] |
I want a bigger slice of the cake.
This isn't a metaphor. I'm just hungry. |
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| Announcement |
[May. 28th, 2005|02:31 am] |
I'd like a girlfriend.
The following people possess traits that are desirable in a lover and, if unavailable themselves, are hereby instructed to find friends with similar traits and pass me their contact details immediately.
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) watersusurrus
lame_kinky
35
whirled
miss_music
Criteria to be my girlfriend are as follows:
- Being clever.
- Liking the song 'Kung Fu' by Ash.
Benefits of being my girlfriend include the following: I'm very handsome. I have my own Kudu. Love shoots out of me like lightning but right now it seems all my electricity is being wasted.
SAVE ELECTRICITY, PLEASANT WOMEN. HOOK YOUR SIMILARLY PLEASANT FRIENDS UP WITH MIKE.
That is all.
Mike |
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| Poem. |
[May. 12th, 2005|10:54 pm] |
I want you to love me.
I want you to destroy me.
To fuck me, dissassemble me, and to tear me to nothing so you see what's left and know me,
and love me anyway.
Also, i'd like two pots of becks.
Thanks. |
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| A life spent with no cellmate... |
[Nov. 22nd, 2004|12:24 am] |
Its been forever. Much has happened.
Work is Mental. In the last 4 months: Sydney, Adelaide, Canberra, New Zealand, Sydney, Adelaide, Canberra, Sydney. A small set of items – my iPod, a Sony travel speaker, aftershave and The Copy of British GQ I Brought On The Way Over are enough to make any hotel room my home for a week. I should make the most of the situation and find some weird double life to live in these places. Get a wife, or a husband, or something.
Begun the second term of my acting class at the National Theatre. Finished the first with by performing the opening monologue from American Psycho for an audience of peers. it went well - the dialogues absurdly funny if it's delivered right. New term's started, and a gal from Full Frontal is the instructor. Every so often another dude, Jason Geary, takes over – he's one of the writers from Skithouse, and did a brilliant class on, oddly enough, skit writing. My next standup gig is at January 3 at The Local, 730ish. If you're reading this, you're welcome to rock up.
All this travel givs me lots of times for reading. So far, I've read books by Nick Hornby, the New Nick Hornby, the American Nick Hornby, And now Popular Music, a not-too-bad book by the Northern Swedish Nick Hornby, about growing up in North Sweden with lots of shifting between reality and childlike fantasy. Also finished Chopper: From the Inside (was half expecting to see a sticker From The Unhinged Threatening Aussie Tattoo-Covered Nick Hornby).
I've also finished A Hundred Strokes of the Brush Before Bed, Endless Nights, and acquired a Giant Book of Girls Bottoms. Now reading Six.
I had a girlfriend. For a little while.
Met a pretty gal at Cherry bar, with the glorious white skin, blonde curly hair, splended 12DD (!) breasts, an arse men fight wars over, and not a single pair of sensible undies. She worked transcribing interviews for the police and liked rock music. Took her home, had a lovely time with her and a squeeze bottle of Capilano honey, and kept dating her until, one drunken night after her birthday, she asked if she could tell her friends I was her boyfriend. Became said boyfriend. Went to New Zealand for two weeks with her. Discovered that she hates herself and there's very little I can do about that. Got hurt. Broke up with her. Went to Sydney. Called her. Got yelled at. Talked. Got back together. Sent 144 tulips to her house. Was told it was one of the Top 5 Nicest Things Anyone's Ever Done for Her and we'd talk once she got back to Melbourne. Talked. Got dumped. Felt Really Bad For A Rather Long Time.
Victorian Gothic fashion parade at DV8. Met gal. She seemed fun. Made a date. Went to Der Raum. The more drunk she got the more clear it became that she was a very damaged, fucked up junkie (from Deviate? The walls of reality are crumlbing down around us...). While she was talking to her flatmate, I calmly picked up my umbrella, opened her front door, and walked out.
Called The Redhead, a gal I'd met a while back, who was directing a play for the Fringe. We sat in the audience, then went to Mr Wolf for gourmet pizza. She's nice, exudes energy. And her play is really good. And she says she really wants to see me. When her Two Weeks Teaching experience is up. got annoyed (I'm busy too, but I can make time, why can't you?), but made her an offer she couldn't refuse and took her to the AFI awards (highlights: brief conversation with Geoffrey Rush. Lowlights: why on earth is Kate Cebrano the entertainment?). Even after that I still had to wait, and call her, and SMS her again (at her instructions) to see her. Either you want to do this or you don't - life is to short waiting for people trying to the too hard to get, I'd rather get it elsewhere. Ended it.
Went to Sydney. Brought an awesome painting by an artist whose name I can neither remember nor see on the canvas. Went to BingBangBong, a mental little rock club on Oxford St that has random theme changes each hour. Rocked out to songs about fat bottoms [yes, there's an hourful], Nemesis [a band that plays hillbilly punk covers of Genesis songs], and other such fun. Belly Dancers (cue pleasant memories of the lovely Prue) provide a suitable intermission. I wore a pair of skeleton gloves I'd scored from EBay, and cut the fingers from and had a great time. Decided to wear the gloves to work with my suit for the next week, scaring the poor Cityrail commuters. Travel a little around Melbourne and you'll see goth girls, punks, and average folk who're just a little more edgy. Not so in Sydney. Sydney is like the Brownlow Medal: how can all those people be going out with the same girl? And doesn't she get tired? Spent a but of time with a psych student I met at a pub, but I didn't really get that much out of it (this may or may not have something to do with her looking weirdly like my cousin).
From reading the above, my life seems to revolve around women. Maybe it does – I think I'm a little over being single. It was an unexpected surprise to settle down with a gal for a while, and fo a little while it was really good. And now I want that again. Suddenly life seems too short to waste on on crap dates, or even my dirty, dirty thoughts about Mel from Sunrise. I want something better and I'm pumped enough to seek it.
However this lack of compromise means I've had a rather hard time the last couple of months. Thank god for my mates (including just about everyone reading this). Girls come and go. Friends ... well they do too. But they're very, erm, nifty *.
* I so wish I had a better ending for this post.
PS. I'm buying this...
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| Fridays Are Off-Topic-Mildly-Amusing-Story-From-Tram-Yesterday-Days! |
[May. 28th, 2004|07:29 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Mark of Cain - L.M.A. | ] |
On the tram from St Kilda this morning. I'm sitting in a four seat, and a girl sits across from me. She's got blonde hair and green eyes, dressed kinda corporately, and is listening to music looking, frankly, far too horny for nine in the morning. I sneak a few glances again, she has a pierced tongue, and is even better looking than the first time i saw her. There isn't, however, much I can do cause of the headphones.
A few stops pass by, people build up around us, the four-seat fills up, and i notice the girl seems to be reading the back of my newspaper. I ask the chick next to me if she has a pen, the dude opposite lends me on, i put the paper in my lap, flip if over, and write:
you're very, very good looking
(no, not the dude)
...on the back, before holding it up again to read it. At this point my hands are shaking - surprising, cause after all the crap with Real-Estate chick last week (and every other girl beforehand) I'm surprised I can still get that enthusiastic anymore.
After a few stops i put the paper down and she's BEAMING. She beams right back at me when we get to spencer street and keeps smiling at me while she heads off, headphones in tow.
But she lives near me, so I'll run into her again and have a proper chat (you know, cause otherwise it'd be weird when we get married).
I'm so bad with money, I'm great with it. Don't send any invoices out for two months, live like a Pauper, then, just as I'm putting rent on the credit card, I get a cheque for Red Hat for nine and a half grand. Instant {savings|New Zealand|Europe}.
Work: noticed up2date on Red Hat EL3 works fine with just directory repositories - ie, RHN isn't mandatory, contrary to what the sources file's comments say. This is handy for classes - if we don't have a RHN (Satellite) Server handy I can just point the guys at the package directory on my machine. Rather than use RPMS shitty ('-Uvh --aid' is too many parameters just to tell it you want to install, macro config file format is obscure, cannot handle third party packages) dependency handling we can use up2date.
Also regarding work, I'm finally getting an account. This will allow me to access a lot of internal stuff that's useful for my job (doczilla, internal bug reports, courseware for the enterprise courses), mean I don't have to deal with Cybersource anymore, and make sure people confuse me with mikem@redhat.com more often.
Finished reading this. Liked it, but I am wondering why every novel I like turns out to be about gay folk (Book of Joe, Dry) or sadists (Cheek Perforation Dance, Justine). Briefly consider career as gay sadist, just so I can write that sentence in my livejournal.
After a year away from the internet, detoxing myself of livejournal, irc, slashdot, and porn, I've now decided I don't need it anymore. Which means its okay for me to get it. Scored Netspace and, more importantly, Suicidegirls. Of all the websites featuring tattooed naked girls riding bicycles, they're easily somewhere in the top 5.
This song rocks. |
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| My life in bulleted list format... |
[Apr. 22nd, 2004|04:51 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Butterfly Effect - Crave | ] |
- Comedy festival afterparty. After seeing a fairly poor show from GUD (who need to respect their audience better than performing year-old gear on that Bee-Gees dude's death) I probably had more fun at coffee with friends afterwards. After Coffeegroup hit the road, it was time for the festival afterparty. Comedian social events usually consist of 'I like boozing, you like boozing... let's booze together!', so it was a little weird having to hunt round for credentials. Boozed with the dudes from Elbowskin and their roadies, ran into ex-school-captain Elvin Ho, and Tommy Langley who I met a year ago (Will and Ross Noble were there too - the latter gets way better quality girls). ). Tommy has apparently done a hundred gigs since then. That might be exaggerated, but still one gig a week and two on a good week is a shitload more than I've been doing (what, ten a year?). Looking at it honestly, I probably could have had a show, if I weren't so damn slack.
- At least I've been inspired to write a new routine. I'm not the same person I was in early 2003 and performing my old material makes me feel like I'm acting. The best people I've ever seen on stage play (a facet of) themselves – rather than a character. I'm much more comfy with this gear, and it's coming together well.
- Cool things: The new Vines album, the tarts in myvintageself, contra-ing my old Dell for a bunch of Shem's clothes, Lenny's recent photos, getting back into pool swimming now the bay's freezing, my flatmate has decided he wants to be Rainier Wolfcastle. Finally getting that sex advice from bouncers I've always wanted. Getting lots of work.
- Seriously considering selling my very powerful, very heavy laptop and buying one of these.
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| I've been busy of late... |
[Apr. 6th, 2004|09:01 pm] |
But I'd thought I'd tell you about Octodog.
That is all.
Cheers ben</sup> |
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| 2000 people, 1200 techniques, 800 vibrators and 23 years - Melbourne Fashion Festival 2004 |
[Mar. 19th, 2004|06:33 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Regurgitator - Hullabaloo | ] |
Monday night was going to be quiet. Instead, Mark and I ended up causing trouble at the Moet / Henessey party at the GPO thanks to his um, 'friend' Jodie-Anne. Ran into Sam and Sebastian from Ginger, met the gal who runs Mink bar, and a model from Perth who knows a dude I met at the Doulton a couple of weeks ago. Drank lots of Henessey. Saw a couple of b-grade celebs - Wayne Cooper looks like a fucking raisin. Went back to the Gin Palace with the girls. Drank lots of Moet. And so began our journay along the downward spiral...
Shem (who has many fans yet no URL) opened Tuesday's ready to wear. A mate was filming a doco and needed a hand with his gear, so I got a prime position with the photographers on the end of the catwalk. The collection was dark and retro - suspenders, elbow length gloves, spikes, aggression. Stylish and more full on than most of the other shows. Additionally suspenders really frame a gal's arse in the right way :^). Discovered a dude I was chatting to the night before ran Andysoma. Imagine anything you could get from Antons mens and make it niftier.
Garech, Shem and I headed to Cookie for the afterparty (cohosted with Yen mag). Got boozed up, ran into $EVERYONE, rocked out with some brilliat gals, investigated a gal's bottom in a manner that was discreet for everyone apart from poor DJ Peril, and generally went mental. Rocked on for a little while then piked on rack at the hotel to prepare for round three.
The last time I saw Nicky Birkill, I came home to discover the whole of Mink bar in my lounge room, and Nicky and her friends spilling champagne all over my bed. Her parade on Wednesday was a lot more upbeat, and again I was parked at the end of the runway with the photographers. She went for a key party theme - each model would slowly head up to a goldfish bowl at the end of the runway, pause in front of the photographers and drop a set of keys in the bowl. Fun and tarty, which is pretty much what the brand is all about. The afterparty was brilliant. We took our latex printed invites to the Danish club in South Melbourne, a huge old white house, where a mantlepiece covered in vibrators, showbags with vibrators / swingers mags / sex toys / lube, porn everywhere, condoms nailed to the walls, an ice sculpture of a man's torso that took champage where the head should be and gave cold champagne from an enormous ice-cock (as opposed to those regularly-sized ice-cocks). All Nicky's friends are mad hedonists and very lovely. The police eventually managed to close the bar down, turn off the music, and order everyone out of the girls loos. But not quite before a great deal of fun was had.
I turn 23 this Sunday. I haven't planned anything for my friends, but might throw another cocktail party sometime soon.
Love.
Mike |
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| Hey you, yes you. |
[Feb. 24th, 2004|06:38 am] |
Mike's Raw gig, this Wednesday night : the Evelyn, 351 Brunswick St. Fitzroy 8PM
On Wednesday the 25th I'll be competing in Triple J's Raw Comedy 2004. If you're reading this, I want you to come - like you're doing anything on Wednesday anyway - and enjoy a night of new comics and cocktails at Ginger afterwards. |
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| Thoughts from a date last Wednesday... |
[Feb. 13th, 2004|09:46 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  hopeful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Bodyjar - One in a Million | ] |
Note to coffeegroup people – nobody in cg is mentioned here
She's friendly (no surprise, she invited me out), somewhat pretty, and listens intently to what I say.
But the prettiness is kind of clinical. And though she listens intently, she has no idea of what to say herself. If she could do anything she wanted, she would 'probably do something else in HR'. More to the point, she's absolutely nowhere near as cool, fun or sexy as the last girl I went out with. I do not want to talk about music for hours with her. I do not make dumb jokes with her. I don't want to go mental rocking out with her. She's not fascinating, and I don't want to find out what makes her tick. I don't want to peel her jeans off all the time. She definitely doesn't have enough siblings.
In fact, the only reason I'm there is because the last girl, the first to impress me in a really long time, has seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth.
So I left after two drinks, and had a conversation with my phone:
ERASE LISA?
Why yes, I'd love to. Didn't actually realize you could erase people. Got any other powers?
MAYBE
Can you make Steph give me a call?
NO. BUT HERE'S HOPING SHE DOES... |
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| Geek post. Ignore if you're inclined. |
[Feb. 12th, 2004|08:18 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  busy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Butterfly Effect - Always | ] |
DocBook stomps the balls off Latex with Jackhammer-like precision. Have been writing DocBook XML tutorials for the Fedora project. Its the first documentation language besides XHTML and OpenOffice which I've actually liked. Tex might be bugfree, but so is helloworld, and it has better font handling.
Why does Fedora need documentation? Well, Red Hat are keeping their own official Documentation for RHEL customers only. But that's OK - I can do a better job anyway *winks*. As of RHEL3, there's currently no coverage of Secure FTP, how to use the LVM post install, how to use SpamAssassin at all, or a bunch of other stuff that covers how to Do it Properly on Red Hat. I intent to fix as much of that as I can. Since I've got copyright on the Training course I wrote for Cyber that's not too difficult a proposition.
I'm currently using vi (and sometimes kate) to hack the docbook manually. OpenOffice can export docbook from a properly formatted document, but not import it. That said, I think I'll write an OpenOffice template and switch to it anyway, making any manual changes at the publication stage. Yanking and pasting another in vi is a fucking waste of time.
When training Red Hat stuff, when the students are doing their labs, I file lots of bug reports (having a bunch of people from varying backgrounds setting up a billion network services in a week tends to reveal a lot of interesting stuff). Much credit to the RH developers: they're pretty responsive when it comes to bugs, although they have a tendency to mark bugs like 'Gnome doesn't display emergency messages from syslog, leading to wacky-fun-data-loss when your hard disk starts melting and you don't know it' as a 'Request for Enhancement'.
Recent ideas:
- A livejournal bot *wink*
- Using Linux without opening a terminal or a text editor for a week and document the results
- Combine Orkut (which, lacking a useful mechanism to see friends of friends, sucks) with Zigzag (which, when described by it's authors, manages to glaze people's eyes over when it's a really cool way to display things like friendship networks).
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[Jan. 22nd, 2004|05:21 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | pirates | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Red Hot Chili Peppers – Universally Speaking | ] |
Hey kids. Edited highlights from the last week.
- Dave's party was fun. The usual 21st stuff, baby photos, speeches, and 35 and spirail licking the soles of my feet in a spa bath. This may or may not account for my expression in the linked photo.
Sushi got the big foot.
- Got published, have 6 pages in the current APC. One on SMS Messaging, and 9 Ways to Access Your Box Remotely (a tiny remote control that fits in your purse that ... wait, APC, not Cosmo...).
- Shortly after APC came out, got four SMSes from myself pointing out that it was probably a bad idea to have my real phone number and a password to send SMSes from me published 75,000 times in a national magazine, but someone liked my work and thought he might help out by changing the password and sending me the new one.
Yay Julian the good Samaritan. He left his email address, so I suppose I should get back to him. He does owe me a buck.
- lady_decadance's cleavage rocks. Make your friends list a happier place by adding her.
- Swimming in the ocean against my flatmate has taken on a new tone since seeing Gattaca.
- Went through my wallet and found an Adelaide train ticket, most likely put there by the girl I spent New Year / the Falls festival with. Haven't seen her since (guess why) (that's right, she's a pirate) but I've been thinking about her far more than I'd expect. A mixture of 'miss having fun with the cool rock babe' and 'I want to fuck her till prizes come out'. She's coming back for the Comedy Festival. Bring on June.
January is Fucked Up Wallet Picture Month!
Me, 1997. See, there's hope for you all. |
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| A thousand miles... |
[Jan. 9th, 2004|07:14 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Grinspoon - A Thousand Miles | ] |
Well i got drunk and i got stoned,
shot my family, left my home,
went out on a killing spree,
'cause what you did was fucked to me.
A thousand miles,
come get all your files.
put on that plastic smile,
a thousand miles...
Go go go...
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I think I become a different person each year. I often wonder if I met my past self whether I'd agree with much I had to say, or think myself naive. The last year made this point all the more apparent. I began the year wanting to change a lot of things. By the end of it nothing resembled the way it was before.
2003 in a nutshell
Moved to St Kilda. Nice 40's art deco apartment with a fountain and a hedonist
Quit Cyber, started Linux training for Red Hat rather than Cybersource
Was poached by, and started writing for, Australian Consolidated Press. Quit PCA and started working for Kerry Packer
Edited and wrote most of Australian Linux Journal, subbed the rest
Spent far too much money on photography books
Danced to Bad Cabbage - You're Rude (aka Get Fucked) far too often
Discovered cocktail making. Went on a couple of brilliant cocktail making courses at Ginger thanks to Sax and continued the mad time at my housewarming and Kat and Leigh's a couple of times.
Shared my bed, dining room table and/or tent with Sarah, Katie, Claire, Prue, Jaelene, Catharine, Jess, Kate #2, and some girl from New Zealand, albeit not at the same time.
Got:
Sideburns
An iPod. Started buying CDs again
Naked online. Mommmee there's pictures of me on the innernet...
Thrown into the air at 5 Gs at the bungee cage at the Big Day Out with Woja.
A 'perfect' (the maximum possible) for aggression (think 'pushes' for things) on a Scientology personality test.
Discovered punk music.
Skied my first black runs after a six year snow break
Regular standup gigs at the Local. Some good, some brilliant, and one a little lacklustre
'Discovered' by the producer of Micallef at a gig and ended up on channel 9's Big Database Of People to Use for Stuff
Nominated for Best Feature at the Consensus IT Writers Awards
Got rid of:
Net access at home, by choice. The amount of time I've regained from kicking IRC Slashdot and Livejournal out of my life is amazing
10 kilos, mainly fat, from looping out. Later gained 5, mainly muscle from exercising at cop gym.
Porn - well, most of it anyway. I'm over it.
Learnt:
I can pretty much do anything I want. My body works and mind work fine, and that's pretty much all anyone needs. In the past I've write for computer magazines, teach Linux to other people, make people laugh on stage and a billion other things. Its all been quite doable, it just takes time and a little work. Opportunity comes about forty thousand times in a lifetime.
Its hard to hate someone you know. Hating requires putting a label on something, deciding one aspect of their character overrides everything else. But people are more complex than that. Its difficult to put a label on someone you know well enough. Nobody's a bitch or an asshole, they're all just people, with a billion different motivations and all the imperfections that being human entails.
How to trim sideburns
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| I've got chills, they're multiplyin' |
[Dec. 23rd, 2003|04:37 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | contemplative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Beastie Boys - Time to Get Ill | ] |
And it hurts to talk or eat, so I haven't done much of either since Thursday night. I'm ill.
No matter how well things are going, few events can make you feel as low then being sick and having to take care of yourself. Sure, Matrix Revolutions is pretty bad, but at least everyone else is going through the same thing. Being sick alone is a seriously isolating experience. I need a pretty young girl to take care of me.
Ah well, at least the following has cheered me up:
- Got Kat and leigh's xmas pressie. I'm now a member of the AFI. Film industry group, not the punk rock band. Woo movie premieres.
- Got a card from Dani. A Christian one, modified in her own style.
"May the joy and spirit of the Lord Jesus Commercial Hell live on in your heart."
- James, Mark, John and Shem (his testament only appears in the directors cut) called to get me come partying. Yay St Kilda, no matter what time it is someone always wants to come boozing. Alas, that includes whoever it was that buzzed at 3AM on Saturday. And didn't stop buzzing till I got up from bed and took the thing off the hook.
- My neighbor Rachel popped round to load me up with vitamins, feel my glands (!) and vent her spleen. Ladies, need a guy who really listens? Find a mute.
- Justice was done on The Awful Truth, one of the 4 billion DVDs I've rented over the last few days.
- Read at least two articles in the Age Review and felt good about furthering the idea that its not really hard to write culture articles for major publications. So inspiration for HQ piece.
- Kickarse photographer babe invited me out. One tends to meet a lot of girls around here, but the creative types I really go for tend to be few and far between. Course, I couldn't go. But there's distinct raincheck possibilities.
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| Why I'm a little tired right now... |
[Dec. 16th, 2003|08:07 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | hedonistic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Chemical Brothers - Get Yourself High | ] |
The last six days:
- Wednesday: Night Market with Coffee Group, then a kickarse party from a girl who knows spirail at the basement of Suede.
- Thursday, real Thursday is missing.
- Thursday again. Was recovering from Wednesday night until I was informed around 10 that it was in fact Friday. Somehow found myself in the presence of a whole lot of Charlie. Spend the night at Mink drinking apple crumble's (apple cider, cinnamon infused vodka, and lime) and rocking out to a DJ and a live drummer.
- Saturday. Scanlan & Theodore party at the Deck, the rooftop area of the Prince of Wales. Its beautiful there.</a> Lots of designers, models, photographers, and more Charlie. Then another private (after) party at Mink. Then everyone heading to Onelove.
- Sunday. Woke up, checked out the bite marks on my chest, walked home, slept. Tim's going back to England so ended up at his farewell at Yelza. Then Alia. Then on and on...
- Monday. Stand up gig. Surprisingly dead crowd (probably the heat), but I wasn't on the game as much as I should have been either. Not a disaster, but definitely not a great experience. Next one in a months time, I still need to visit Nylon bar and book a date there.
I've finally found a copy of
Chemical Brothers - Get Yourself High video. If you haven't seen it, its worth checking out.
The fellow who did Flem has a short story on Gothic.net. Its decent (cheers delireuse). |
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| Ninth Ward was on fire yesterday |
[Dec. 11th, 2003|03:43 pm] |
I work a few meters away. There was 5 fire trucks, and a whole bunch of smoke pouring up the stairs behind the taped-off intersection of Flinders Lane and Elizabeth St.
I stopped in there and had a chat to the staff earlier today. The place looks very, um, black. Apparently part of the roof above the bar had just caved in. But it'll stay open and they're gonna repair all the damage ASAP. |
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| I have more goats than you have |
[Dec. 8th, 2003|08:03 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | happy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Outkast - Heya | ] |
Well, probably. Unless you're sor_eye_ah.
I don't really get the whole post-weekend LJ entry thing. The week doesn't really end here. I'm either partying or working like a one legged man in an arse kicking competition regardless of the day. Now I've finished my magazine work till the April 2004 issue, there's been a lot of the former.
Recently:
- Spent Friday night at a rather nice new bar in Victoria St, Richmond engaged in terrible behavior.
- Saturday night: Andie's 21st, with a Muppets theme. Interpreted that liberally and came as The Dude from Weezer in reference the video for Keep Fishin. Crashed overnight at delireuse's, woke up, went to Yum Cha with
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) coffeegroup, and finally visited the revamped Anton's. There goes my income. There's some cool pin-up gal cufflinks for work to add to the collection and I still need a new suit. There's also an EB nearby. They have Soul Calibur II. And an exchange policy that says I could acquire it for only thirty dollars if I exchange two older games. This sounds way too good to be true.
- Sunday: after drinks with the neighbors on the balcony we ended up at Mink for Sunday night `Eastern Bloc Decadence', which means cinnamon infused vodka, DJs, beautiful gals, and vintage pornography projected onto the walls.
- Monday: Music and hedonism at Vineyard till 4.
Discovered a letter from mum Saturday. I apparently have a goat named after me. He has white fur and green horns, and is named after me cause, you know, I too have white fur and green horns.
I've been working on a piece for either HQ or Australian Black and White. Will post an outline sometime. Off topic: the latest Australian B + W includes Anton Corbijn (who does most of Depeche Mode's videos) and a far-too-short feature on Suicidegirls.
If you like goth music, burlesque dancers, wearing silver paint cricket pads and a turban, and vomiting glitter (and face it, who doesn't?), you'll be pleased to know that Fisherspooner's album is finally coming out in Australia. Buy copies. Did I mention they have videos to download? Oh yeah, I did. Pay more attention next time.
If you're beautiful, female and reading this (and gosh darn it there's a few of you) you should post on my_vintage_self for the following reasons:
- You'll feel artistic, confident, empowered, and admired.
- I'll get to check out your rack.
That is all.
Mi(c)ke(y) |
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