The joy of txt

19 - Jan - 06

From: Former work colleague

Hey so u don't hear it from someone else on monday found out i have skin cancer seems as though they have removed all the tumor but having surgery to be sure

It seems that the girl now has between a 70 - 98 % chance of survival. It was lucky she says, another month and it could have gotten into her blood stream and spread to other parts of her body.

After her surgery, if there is no sign that the cancer has returned within 3 months, she will be in remission (meaning monthly checks with the same doctor for the next 3 years).

She still has to go into hospital to get a hole cut in her back the size of a pigeon egg to make sure they've got it all, and then have plastic surgery to get the hole repaired.

The problem is the waiting list for the plastic surgery will be about 2 months.

The same two months that it may take for bastard cancers to take scenic tour of girls body.

But there are also a lot of girls in urgent need of boob implants and nosejobs too, you know?

And their husbands are paying cash.

Head in the sand

My eyesight is pretty bad.

I'm probably not at the Mr Magoo stage,

using a cat to sweep my front porch, or driving my car through the lions cage at the zoo.

Yet.

Until recently, I've learned to live with my impairment.

If you squint a bit, and get your eyes to water, glasses are not necessary at all.

I do own a pair of glasses, mind, but I only wear them for driving.

A former girlfriend said that I looked hot with my glasses on.

But, have you ever looked at the world through a soft-focus lens?

Next time you're sitting on the setee watching Oprah and snacking on pork-rinds, go up close to the screen and have a look.

(Oh that's right, if you can see properly you don't have to get off the couch)

You will see that everything is soft, and.. fuzzy. There are no angry sharp edges or bitter twisted angularity.

Just soft white clouds and a rainbow.


Well no more I tell you.

I'm going cold turkey.

I need to see the world as it really is.

The lines on my face.

The blemishes in my skin.

The eyes of people in the street.

Hey Ramrod!

It has come to my attention from various media outlets that the 41st Victorian Hot Rod Show is on this weekend.

Exciting huh?

I feel strangely compelled to attend this event, if not for the briefest of moments. Allow me to explain.

But first, you need to come on a little journey with me through time. Here throw on this pair of magical time travelling happypants and matching bustiere.

Yes, I know that zip at the back is a little tricky,... let me help.

Don't mind my wandering hands.

All buckled up?

Take my hand.

*travelling through time*

Wow, here we are in 1995.

No, you can't check your e-mail, the internet won't be popular for at least another two years.

This is a mystical year when people didn't wear truckers caps, but Orlando Magic baseball caps (funny coz their a basketball team). And here in 1995 if you wore a pink shirt, you would probably get beaten up by the same people that are wearing them in 2006.

Time-travel does some weird things to people. (and thats just going forward)

And if you look over there, curled up in that bed, you will see me.

I'm sleeping, but don't wake me up....

I'm having a strange but vivid dream of being at a car show. I'm checking out all the chrome and carbys. I have no idea of the significance of this dream, because I haven't been much into cars since 1991, when I used to buy Street Machine magazine every month. My favourite car was the black four-door HJ Premier in the October 1990 edition, and I had the centrefold pinned up on my wall. It could pull sub-10 second quarter mile times and had a fully blown 454ci Chev motor (bored out to 482ci) under the hood.

Regardless, I'm at this car-show. But it's strange because I can't figure out where I am. I mean the surroundings are unfamiliar. It seems like the Torrens Parade Grounds in Adelaide, because it's a big asphalt quadrangle, but it's not. I just can't put my finger on it.

And there is a blonde girl in denim cut-offs and a wet tshirt sponging down a red '32 Ford roadster. There are suds everywhere, and I mean everywhere

"Hey ramrod! I'm just about to put some wax on these puppies. Can you help me?


Sorry to do this to you at the critical moment, but we have to go back to the future now... I'm about to wake up. It always happens that you wake up before the good bits huh?

You know the drill.

*more time travel, this time to 2006*

So anyways, a few months ago, I was walking home from work past the Royal Exhibition buildings, and it struck me that the setting of this dream could have been right here in Melbourne. Right where I was standing. It just felt right.

Imagine my surprise when now they are going to put on a hot-rod show in the very same place. It's all a little de ja vu, je ne sais pas porqui

Don't you think?

So now I must go to the hot-rod show. I want to know why I dreamed of the hot-rod show some 10 years prior to its eventual being.

If only to see the blonde girl wax her puppies.

Green Room

The most amazing things happened last night...

I reached into my pocket.... and pulled out...

a telephone!

Would you believe... a girl-scout with rabies?

And if that isn't freaky enough,... I then used the telephone... to take photographs. Totally bodacious. You don't believe me do you? You think I've watched too many episodes of Get Smart.

Well here is the undeniable proof...

Hard-Ons at the Green Room last night.

Some great bands played. The Spazzys were good, but of course they just had to show up to be good. I missed Mach Pelican and Bored! (Did Bored! actually play?)

The most entertaining band of the night was called "Mr Hyde and the Jekylls" or something at 4am. The singer (pictured below in Golden Axe garb) yells out:

"We're the Bad Brains, and this is I against I" before launching himself off the front of the stage and canonballing into the largely empty room as the band lurched and thrashed away on stage. He was on a mission to get in as many people's faces as possible, and he did this admirably.

The next thing I knew the little stocky guy was buried under about twenty people who decided they didn't care for the cut of his jib. The band themselves were great, and they worked away to make this soundtrack for the chaos. Almost like two seperate conversations at the same time.

And the Big Daaay Out is going to be fun this year. I'll see you in the pit.

creativity

There's so much bubbling round my head at the moment that it has been very hard to translate ideas into anything more than that.

to be busy working has nothing to do with creative output----

take it as you will.

i've been unemployed for a few months now.

and been getting plenty laid, and all that nonsense.

but creativity is a constant.

it finds its variables in which it must be placed.

(Cantsin)

Well I believe that creative genius is made up of 1% inspiration, 1% perspiration, 1% education, and 99% penetration. If only Einstein would agree with me on that?

Russian Dolls

Wow I can't believe it's been nine days since New Years already. As luck might have it, I received a txt from a former student to come to a gourmet barbeque. It was held at their apartment in South Melbourne, and it was good to see so many Adelaide faces.

Flouting firebans, we trammed and jammed into Federation Square to watch the fireworks spectacular, and stood on the bridge over the Yarra as the starbursts exploded around us. It's the first time in ages that I've been anyplace public for NYE. There were people everywhere, and after it all finished 20 minutes later, we headed back to the apartment. The only problem was that we were going against the torrent of people that were headed into the city, and were almost trampled in our efforts to get home. And the heat was intense. It was still 32 degrees at midnight, and with all that body heat, it was almost overwhelming.

New Years Resolutions? Sure. Here are some that I prepared earlier.


(1) I baked myself a fish. It was a rainbow trout, and it had already been gutted, so all that I had to do was add a few vegies and put it in the oven. It was a little pink in the middle, but it's probably better to undercook than overcook. Not bad for a first try.

(2) On New Years Day, I went for a scenic drive down to Portsea (Well almost... there was a big festival on Phillip Island and the traffic was crazy, so I turned around and stopped off at Dromana for some fish and chips. Very nice.

With the radio on, and an arm out the window, and wearing my favourite wife-beater, I was reminded of the harshness of the Australian sun. The next day my right shoulder came up looking like a strawberry pie.

(3) I ventured down to my local Nova cinema on Lygon Street, Carlton. (I'm sure there's one in every state or territory. Consult your local guides). The movie I chose was Russian Dolls or Les Poupées Russes if you'll pardon my French. I always judge a film by its promotional poster, and this one had several beautiful girls on it. Including, but not limited to Audrey Tautou from Amelie. Anyways without giving anything away, on a scale of one to ten, I rate this film as

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

And speaking of Russian Dolls, please enjoy this amusing cartoon about Russian Dolls that I just found...

Out with the old...

A new blog template is as good as a holiday they say.

Happy new year!