New New Place

Beyond amazing. Great flatmates. Great location. Just the right distance from the rest of my life. Regular internet. Bed upgrade. Real cheap. Yeah motherfuckers.

I know, I know

Im well aware that its been toooooo fucking long since I threw some words at this blog…. a lot has been happening, but not a lot at the same time, if that makes any sense? Uni is cracking (and has been devouring most of my blog time – check out http://www.plan3015.wordpress.com for visual evidence. Thats nearly 7000 words on the plight of many social groups in our society. Its a great read (im lying, but check out how I toe the PC line and occasionally ever so gingerly overstep the mark).

Oh and before I forget: Ginger is not a dirty word (best said in the same emphasis as Ego Is Not a Dirty Word by Skyhooks). My beard is coming through ginger. Death.

I keep meeting guys I like and then dont like and then like again. Im loving living in Lewisham and being so close to everything. My hair has been cut a little different and it raises a few eyebrows. Funnily enough, RailCorp is okay with it, I was expecting a conversation where I ducked requests to cut it like biplanes in a WW1 dogfight (btw, what exactly could those plane attack besides each other?). Should I post a pic? Sure:

And how goober do I look? I was singing Lady Madonna. Fuck off, its totally masculine. One of my mates from the SW will soon be working nearby, and Im really starting to get out more. Peaches is this Friday: cannot. fucking. wait. And next month, Salt N Pepa. I can wait for that one…. they’re totally performing at Revesby Workers Club. Push It and $2.50 spirits? Hardcore…

Anyway, ciao bitches.

RWJS.

Back at Uni

Hopefully Ill be on here a little more… back at Uni and I have an ongoing journal which Im going to present as a blog. Ive set a deadline for the first ‘derpunkt’ for Monday week, so here’s hoping I can stick to that.

Everyone is coming back from overseas and its good to get nice and wasted as long as the conversation flows. Im up in Dubbo next week, probably my last visit to Jeremy as he moves back down pretty soon. I may have to make some sort of cake.

Adios.

Goodbye Camden, Hello Nasty

Woah….. two months? It’s been a while.

So I’ve moved out, from Camden to Lewisham (I’ll put up a pic or two later…. maybe as part of this thing Im working on) which basically means I save two hours+ travel everyday. Oh yeah. And I can go out any night I want, and drink. Yes… Im an adult, really. I’ve been back to Camden a few times, but what a pity I haven’t seen that stupid woman with the Australian flag who doesnt think Muslims are fit for Camden. Someone needs a good root.

Im working on this little zine idea at the moment with my newfound freedom, as well as a few tunes, but lord only knows if they’ll be fleshed out a little more.

All but one of my New Years Resolutions are complete, which is prompting me to come up with something a little more challenging for next year. World peace? An end to the hideous chunky skidmark that is Justin Timberlake’s Acting Career? I start back at uni in about a month, CANNOT wait. And Im staying on at RailCorp.

I suggest you all listen to the self-titled album from Hercules & Love Affair, Im falling in love with it.

I’ll send an update soon(er than the gap I’ve left between this and the previous post) I hope. Tschuss.

RWJS.

P.S. Dont go to ‘Everywhere Internet’ in Railway Square for the music.

All Over The Place

Sorry, haven’t blogged in a while. Might be disappointing the three people that read my blog (most of whom are IN my posts anyway!)

Anyway no huge news to report. Went to Dubbo, took photographs. My big bro and sis moved out west. I ate far too much bruschetta and now Im sick of it. Ive lost another kilo. Saw Gameboy/Gamegirl, that was pretty good (and Bec, there’ll be more 80s dancing. Never stop the 80s dancing I say. And sorry for accusing your friend of being a drug dealer. She was just standing there too, dammit)

Work is ok, For the audit that Im doing I have got 8 people working for me (9 if you count the contractor). Three are asian, one is non-arab muslim, one is non-muslim arab, one is from congo, one is half filipino half argentinian and one is a white guy about 55 from the blue mountains. I call them my rainbow family. My boss is off for the next two weeks so WOOO. I actually work a lot better without her there (believe it or not). Anyway, let me know how you’re all doing, those I dont see regularly anyway.

XXRWJS

PS: Furbies

Resident Evil 5: A Trip to the RTA

So I mentioned in my last post that my number plates were stolen again. The Green Ps (shut up, Im a late bloomer) were stolen too, and while I got the plates replaced ASAP, I didnt really bother with the Ps. I should have, because I only have like 2 points on my license, but I figured I could spin a story about them being stolen from where I last parked with sufficient indignance. And we could reminisce about the scum that live near where I park my car daily. ‘Oh yes sir, Leumeah is a hotspot for car theft… why just the other day I read a newspaper article about how CityRail won’t put CCTV cameras in the carpark (which they dont own)’ he’d say, as I slip my RailCorp ID badge further into my pocket.

But getting on with the story: I ‘dropped in’ to the RTA today to get some Green Ps. So, they dont keep the Ps out for anyone to just walk in and take anymore. No, I have to take a number to get some free bits of plastic. So the number-taking machine is basically like this:

1. Take a ticket if its your first time in an RTA and you’re here to sit your Ls test, you mingah. You really should have studied the booklet last night instead of making out with your dropkick boyfriend at that bitchin white trash party in Airds
2. Take a ticket if you have a really specific licensing enquiry, like about the gross tare of your truck and which license you should be under, or whether your gold license means you can get RTA gift vouchers.
3. ALL OTHER ENQURIES

While I sat waiting for the 23 (!) people to go ahead of me, my mind wandered. Ive been playing so much Resident Evil 4 lately, its almost an obsession. Apparently theres a new one coming out, I may just have to get a PS3 to play it. I was thinking what a great game it would be woth the inclusion of a level in a motor registry. Specifically, the Campbelltown RTA Motor Registry. Think about it:

CHAPTER 2-2: CAMPBELLTOWN RTA MOTOR REGISTRY

ENEMIES: White Trash Zombies (Endless), Cashier Super Trash Zombies (Too Few, but still heftily annoying)

On approach to the registry doors on foot, you will be attacked by several white trash zombies that have obviously not left the car since Thursday’s late night shopping trip to the Macarthur Square Food Court. Their lurching gait is hard to predict: avoid eye contact and proceed inside to claim your number.

Whip out the pump-action, and start laying into the White trash zombies present in plague proportions. You have a long wait for your number to be called, so dont forget to reload. There is nothing of interest inside except the carnage you are causing. Take special delight in ending the screaming of the children fighting each other with what appear to be ANZ money bags containing 5 cent pieces (a special christmas present perhaps). The parent trash zombies will watch the spectacle of their children with the misplaced pride inherent to a yokel. They will repeatedly miss their own numbers being called and have to force their way in front of other people, causing the only available entertainment: white trash arguments.

Once your number is called, prepare to face the slightly harder puzzle-based fight against the cashier (protection: high, perspex shield). You will have to negotiate several tricky questions in your attempt to get some Green P-Plates. For bonus points, attempt to elicit an apology for the 40 minute wait you’ve had to endure because RTA Staff want another award condition added to their workplace agreement if they have to leave the perspex shield and refill a P-Plate shelf. Finally, you’ll face the boss.

BOSS: CUSTOMER SERVICE MANAGER

This bitch is one tough mama. In a similar puzzle-based scenario, you must attempt to crush the white trash zombie pride of this monstrosity by leaving a damning comment on RTA services. In another example of bureaucratic madness, you will find yourself up against a person intellectually inferior to yourself, but armed with the stalling tactics and procedural madness able to delay you or even deprive you of a customer complaint form.

Im so excited about the potential of this idea I may just send an email to Capcom. Or maybe I’ll just use the Narellan RTA Motor Registry in future. Yes, thats much easier.

Magazines, Genderfuck, People from Penrith

Mardi Gras is over for another year. My MG day began around 10 when I pulled myself out of bed, ready to go and visit the new location for the magazine store (without Stef, sorry mate). Basically they sell all sorts of magazines for $4 each, usually last months editions. In the case of fashion magazines, that would be shit. But in the case of design mags (usually artfully called zines or graphic zines or versions or something else pomo) you can usually get some $30 mags virtually cheap as chips. So I got like 10 mags, should keep me happy when I wake up grumpy in the morning and want something pretty to visually digest whilst I down my Mini wheats. Also, did not realise how nice Dulwich Hill can be in a ‘look which suburb of Sydney time and the real estate market forgot’ kind of way.

After that I went to the Cross-Campus students float marshalling area, where signs were being constructed and banners made for the Mardi Gras. This is the first year I was going on a float, so I made a sign, then went and had something to eat with P in Newtown. Came back, got changed, and it was ON. The marshalling area was amazing, truly one of the only places I have seen every gay stereotype in full swing (literally in the case of the S&M crew) at once. I made some lesbian friends (as usual, some of you say) from Wollongong, so hearts to them. And met some awesome people from Brisbane, the North Shore and Canada of all places. The parade was fantastic, dancing to Scissor Sisters and T-Rex past the rows and rows of Asian photographers. Im sure Ill get a chance to put up pics soon, once I get some of them coming in (I didnt take my camera, boo). I also am thinking about investigating the Raelians, they look fun (and crazy).

Following the parade, I had to change my CityRail issue steel caps, so I met up with S and N and we traipsed back to Sydney Uni and came back in. It was good to see the fuckers again. I also tried a Butterfinger bar, would like to be ‘fingered more often. I was due to meet up with a guy I’d been seeing. Lets just say after some nice conversation and a decidedly horrible experience at a shithouse indie wannabe party, I’ll be seeing a lot less of him. It was slightly reminiscent of an out-take from Queer as Folk (one of those out-takes that are so awfully acted they dont even put them on the 12 disc collectors edition). The real saviours of the night were the good people of Penrith! I dont know what it is with people from the shore of the Nepean, but it appears I instantly click with them. Maybe its the lack of pretension… or maybe just the fact we’re all a little Westie. I recall meeting several people from Penriff who hugged out my pain and told me all men are bastards. Not all surely, and not all the time. Just when I would expect differently, apparently! Oh well. Good fishing weather ahead (I checked the forecast).

Richtig oder falsch?

Sooooooooo….. I’m in my third week of German classes. Last night’s class was interesting mostly because I outed myself to my speaking partner and then the wider class.

ENTSCHULDIGUNG?

Yes, we did relationship status. Single? Verheiratet? etc etc. And our German teacher taught us to say firstly whether we are single or married, and then to explain whether we have a male friend (der freund) or female friend (die freundin). And so when I said I had a male friend….. I was corrected. So I restated. And then….. they cottoned on. Thank God. It was a truly ‘OHHHHHHHHH’ moment, lots of blushing and the like. Fun.

Then I was at Central,  and this woman was there without her phone who needed to call her hubby in the Gold Coast, so whatever I let her use my phone. And she promised me good karma for the next twenty-four hours.

So I get back to my car and my number plates have been stolen. Again.

Lets hope today isnt so schiesse.