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just spent the weekend at the army barracks
Is Chewing On

Gore Vidal

Listening to:

Everything in Transit
Jack's Mannequin
Lick Those Stripes!
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The Herd
Carresser of Annabelle
Crazy Lone Ranger
Island Sinker
Labert Leopard
Lego Man
Shakin' That Ass
Sloth Min
Uber Bitch Jase
Van Ren


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Songs of the Plains
Family Court

One would be in less danger
From the wiles of a stranger
If one's own kin and kith
Were more fun to be with.

Ogden Nash
Not a Nipple
Friday. 6.29.07 12:47 am
So I went for a costume party on Saturday.

The theme was "Your Childhood".

Have a guess what I went as.*

* Matt, you're a champion!

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Alcoholic Workout
Thursday. 6.21.07 2:02 pm
Oh tequila, you evil, evil drink.

I was sick so often last night that I think I may have developed abs.

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Brick Shithouse
Saturday. 6.16.07 8:17 pm

The Super 14’s been over for a month now, but the Tri Nations start tonight!!

My friend, who’s built like a brick shithouse, is just as excited. We’re mucking about with a rugby ball outside his house, passing it back and forth, chasing it into driveways (where he leaves Brick Shithouse-shaped dents in the garage doors), and trampling over lovingly tended flower beds. He outweighs me by a good 40 kilos at least, but that means that I get to climb all over him like a jungle gym. A mobile jungle gym that smells of booze and fags.

I kick the ball into the street. He runs off to retrieve it, but the street slopes downwards and the ball rolls away…right into the path of an oncoming car. The driver honks a warning, but instead of stepping aside, BS lowers his shoulder and makes as if to meet the car head on. The car screeches to a stop in time and this time the honk’s an angry one that shouts “WTF!”. BS moves to let it pass and grins cockily at me.

Make that ‘A mobile jungle gym that smells of heaps of booze and fags’.

Pleased with himself, BS looks around for something else to tackle. He finds it.


He charges towards me with a roar, trying to intimidate me. It works. Very well. I would’ve peed in fright even without the sound effects. As it is, I’m panicking because I’m not sure if he’s sober enough to hold back. I definitely don’t want to find out, but I can’t run because he’ll easily chase me down. Ohgodohgodohgod...

I hold my ground until the last moment, then dodge under his arms and sidestep him as he passes. I feel like I’ve just escaped a train wreck.

“Wow, you’re quick. You should come play touch with us.”

No, I’m not usually that quick. That burst of speed was a combination of fear and desperation. But now that the danger’s over, I’m pumped. REVENGE!

Suddenly, his phone rings and he fumbles to answer it. Opportunity! I rush at him while his attention is diverted. The curb is just behind him so if I hit him hard enough, he’ll definitely take a tumble.

But just as I make the tackle, he swings around the other way and his elbow catches me right on my nose. I drop to the ground with a strangled cry and roll around in pain. And roll. And roll some more. Nghrkkk, the rolling’s not lessening the pain, it’s just getting my clothes dirtier. I settle for just writhing in agony, wheezing loudly and half-sobbing.

“Babe, I’m on the phone here, wha—,” BS turns to me and stops in mid-sentence, bewildered. He hangs up. “What are you doing?”

I glare blearily at him through my tears as I clamp my throbbing nose. “Wa-wad ab I doigg?! Yu elbod be id de DOSSSS!!!!” The last sentence culminates in a wail. Why did he have to hit me so hard?!! This really hurts!!

BS looks even more confused. “I elbowed you in the nose?! When?”

“JUZ DOW, WED I DRIDE DO DAGEL YU!” I wail even louder.

“Oh baby, I didn’t even know you were tackling me. I didn’t feel it. You must’ve run straight into my elbow.”

He reaches down and helps me up. Then he sits on the curb and pulls me, still sobbing, onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he holds my face gently as he checks my nose. “You’re alright. It’s not bleeding or anything and it’s definitely not broken.”

“Id zdill urds,” I complain.

He hugs me better and points out, “Well, now you know not to try to take down a guy twice your size.”

I mumble assent, muffled from where I’ve buried my face in his shirt. Next time I’ll just push him down the stairs.

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Service Message
Friday. 6.15.07 12:09 am
Sorry, my lovely lumpikins. Sick as a dog and final exams.

Service will be resumed shortly.

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Booze-proof Furnishing
Saturday. 5.26.07 7:36 pm
I take another glass of champagne from the tray being held out to me. Then I liberate a canapé from another proffered tray. Both hands occupied, I turn my attention back to my companions. They are animatedly discussing whether or not the star-shaped light hanging above our heads would look as good on their patio.

I look up and examine the object of their attention critically. It is quite pretty, even if the points do resemble nipples from certain angles. It does look dreadfully impractical though. Most of the pieces showcased at tonight’s opening don’t look like they would survive a drunken party. Then again, most of the people milling about the room don’t look like they would attend, much less host, a drunken party. A garden party, more likely, with tinkling laughter, polite conversation and smiling waiters gliding around with trays of canapés.

Mmm, canapés. I snag another one from a passing waiter.

I nudge a light globe experimentally with a curious foot. It rolls away slowly then stops short, restrained by a power cord. I can just imagine what would happen if I brought one home:

“Now we can play football in the dark!!” someone would excitedly suggest. And like drunken lemmings, everyone else would think it the greatest idea ever. A black marker would then be magically produced and the traditional black patches would be added onto the light globe. Never mind the fact that it would be tethered to the nearest power socket. After the first kick, all hell would break loose and that would be the end of $200 worth of Italian-made “enlightened use of light”.

The other pieces look much the same. Plastic, hardy enough to withstand the odd knock, but certainly not a well-aimed kick. Of course, if I bought one for those labelled prices, I’d chop off any potentially threatening foot that so much as twitched in the wrong direction. Actually, I’m not as impressed as I had expected to be. They’re basic designs which, though admittedly do look good, aren’t likely to incite awestruck gasps. They’re just, well, lighted furnishings.

Except the penguins. Adorable, lighted penguins in a little decorative huddle. There’s something about them however. They remind me of something, but I can’t figure out what that it is. I stare at the penguins as I try to work it out.

My friend notices my concentration and turns to look at the penguins. “Oh, haha!” He nudges my other friend and points them out. “Don’t you think they look like…,” he trails off, waiting expectantly.

“Dildos!” I triumphantly exclaim.

The conversation around us abruptly halts.

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Visual DNA
Wednesday. 5.23.07 4:53 pm
Goddamn, I love this stuff.

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Sunday. 5.20.07 2:15 pm
What you missed at the XES party last night

Click on the pic for more

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Light My Fire
Tuesday. 5.15.07 11:29 pm
Fire alarm!

The shrill, urgent tones pierce through the cool autumn night. I am walking home from the common room in a post-rugby defeat funk when the sound suddenly interrupts my reverie.

At first, I am inclined to ignore it. It's probably just burnt toast or students drunkenly setting themselves on fire. But hang on, what if it's a proper fire? With roaring flames, people screaming for help and pets chucked out the window? I already missed last month's car chase which culminated gloriously with the perpetrator ramming through the fence and crashing into the laundry building. I definitely don't want to miss a fire too. Besides, fire engines! Sirens, flashing lights and more importantly, firemen.

Firemen, firemen!

I hunt for the source of the fire alarm. It is the Coles across the road! There's no fire in sight, but there's smoke wafting from the side of the building.

"Oh no, where will we get our groceries?" moans one of my fellow onlookers.

She is right! I start to panic, but calm down when I remember that it's Saturday. It's alright, the Coles people will have the whole of Sunday to rebuild the store before Monday rolls around.

Still, I decide that we should loot the store just in case we run out of supplies.

"Let's loot the store just in case we run out of supplies," I suggest to the other onlookers.

My idea is hailed with much cheering and exuberance. I feel very proud of myself. Until it is pointed out that there are no windows through which we can smash our way in.


Before I can come up with another plan to save us from starvation, a fire engine announces its arrival with wailing sirens. Then another. And another. Three fire engines, each bursting with firemen.

Firemen, firemen!

Impending starvation is forgotten as firemen pour out of the fire engines. Firemen in fire suits and fire helmets and fire boots. And underneath those fire suits and fire helmets and fire boots are smoking hot bodies. I can't see them, but they're definitely there. After all, firemen work as part-time strippers when they're off-duty.

I watch as they carry out their job purposefully. Some walk purposefully around the building, some stare purposefully across the road at us, while the others mill purposefully around the fire engines, chatting purposefully among themselves. Then they all purposefully climb into the fire engines and purposefully drive off.

Drive off?! Where were the hoses?! And the great arcing blast of water taming the wild blaze?! The heroic battle against the wanton, destructive power of a...non-existent fire. Oh. I remember that we hadn't really seen a fire at all. Just a few wisps of smoke. Which had dissipated by the time the fire engines arrived.


One of the fire engines sweeps by us, lights dimmed and sirens silenced. I automatically wave as it goes past. But no one waves back.


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