Australia

Well fuck me Tublr, hello. It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I would apologise but you’re totally inanimate so talking to you would be crazy, wouldn’t it? So what’s happened? There’s a fly buzzing around that’s trying my patience and I’m totally engrossed in Robn Hobb’s first book…the lady is a master…found a shop that deals specifically in Fantasy books in Perth (oh yeah, I’m in Australia btw) I was in Heaven…that dusty smell reminded me of Scott, somewhat…ah, home.

It hasn’t dipped below 30 since I got here and it’s well good, Doug has like 60 cans of coke knocking about his house and the temptation to not go on a binge is immense, I like doug’s house…it’s very 80’s but there’s a lot fo character and soul and clutter…unlike Janine’s, I know it’s a new place but it’s flat…dead…uncomfortable. Spending time with both Janine and Doug separately has really given me food for thought, since they parted ways there’s no denying that Doug has benefitted and Janine’s gone down the shitter because of that Northern pisshead she’s obsessed with…childish and clamouring for attention, making backhanded comments and stagnating with his weird kids.

Doug’s a true gent and can’t do enough for us, need to remember to get him a thank you card once we’re ready to leave (as soon as the banks get their arses in gear and send our bank cards) can’t wait to get on the road, 7 years if dreaming have lead to this, I’m so happy to finally be here.

Watched an interesting documentary on magazines last night, about how they used to spearhead and instigate change but now they’ve just reached a bland monotony of conformity and how now Time magazine’s ‘man of the year’ is ‘The American Soldier’ give me a break, how fucking ambiguous and sickeningly patriotic is that? Whereas in the past, Time had dared to name Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin and Iatola what’shisface as ‘man of the year’ for fully justifiable reasons.

Makes me wanna get into journalism that little bit more.

Let’s leave if there for now, eh? I’ll let you know when I’m in Sydney.

Super Mario’s noises are shockingly familiar.

Crash.

Dead Dog

Yep, the dog’s dead. Not my dog, Kieran’s dog, not my brother because his name is spelled Keiran (i before e except after c = twoddle) but Keiran Beaumont. His dog alfie died and that dog was a lot like the Boobin, it’s really struck home and made me realise how little I show el Oobin how much I love him, I’ll probably miss him more than any of my family when I go to Oz, RIP Alfie.

Turns out Bob’s not a bad dancer, his dubstep style is shit-hot. I <3 Idols, they played last train home, I felt really young again and I remembered to order the prophets new CD today, it came out ages ago :| whoops.

I’m wearing a t-shirt that doesn’t fit, I hate it. I ordered it online from America and it took 2 months to come, it was only afterwards that I realised I could’ve paid an extra £2 to have it delivered within 7 days….

I’m eating chocolate and the Boobin is sitting by the side of me, staring expectantly…now I remember why I don’t show this puppy much love.

anyway, this t-shirt, I love the design and it’s a nice colour but it’s like I’m wearing a marquee, I tried wearing a shirt over it to hide how baggy it is but it looks wrong. What’s more important? shape or stlye? Could be worse, could be shapeless and styleless like my best friend :).

Bob’s going back today, at least I won’t have to sleep on the sofa anymore, it’s not comfy, is your sofa comfy?

I start cleaning cars tomorrow, washed and waxed for a fiver, I’d be mad to turn down an offer like that is someone came knocking on my door offering it. I know the philipino blokes down the way will do the same job probably a lot better but people are lazy and thoughtless and need to be offered and given, not merely guided, that’s the philosophy I’m drawing on.

Bob wasn’t impressed with Watchmen and Jeff wasn’t impressed with me, I got the train times wrong and she was painting the town red, eh Harry? So many flirtacious girls…so unfair.

Going shopping now.

Crash.

Gap In The Fence

The weather’s horrendous, it’s the kind of weather where you go and get your bridge pierced rather than go to Tenby so that’s exactly what we’re gonna do, Bob’s in the shower atm, either he’s got severe shits from last night or he’s playing with himself, I’m inclined to think to latter…better cif the bath before I step into it….he’s probably thinking about Becca, the girl from last night, he always falls for the tattooed freaks, such a stereotype and he falls obsessively, I love him, it’s never dull.

Bob introduced a few of us to Sailor Jerry last night, he was a really nice guy, conversation flowed naturally and came in great quantities though I realised later that some of the things he said hurt my stomach.

Our garden fence has been obliterated and Bob and I have tried propping every possible item up against it to stop it from blowing over, you don’t realise how much of an inconvenience soaking wet weather and dog shit is until you try working in it.

I fancy watching a film later, can you suggest anything for me, tumblr? No I thought not.

Bob tells me his paedophilic love interest claims that ‘hangovers are for quitters’ and I whole heartedly agree, pass me the jager. Nope, it’s Round 2 down Wine street tonight and we’re gonna throw some shapes in Idols.

Maybe I should try and light a fart on fire later, I don’t actually know if it’s possible.

Bob has nice shoulders.

Crash.

Walking through Serbia…

What can I say? Bob’s here for half an hour and we’re already driving up Bryn with £50 worth of booze in the boot. It was misty, couldn’t see 5 feet in front of the car and in the midst of this zombie apocaplypse weather; we found an abandoned bus, it was mere moments before the chainsaw-wielding maniac burst out and chased us to the car…then we took a walk to the arse end of nowhere, it was mere moments before the snipers took us out on the serbian/bosnian border.

Amid this slight adventure, we resolved to go see Dave in Cardiff, Bob hadn’t seen him for months and wouldn’t get a chance while he was on this brief suaré…what could be better than seeing all your best friends at your front door (which they would have to clear 3 locked/passcoded doors to get to first) at 4 in the morning with a lot of alcohol? Well, apparently keeping quiet, covert and normal was more appealing to Dave last night, ‘less than impressed’ doesn’t quite define it, I don’t deny that Dave loves us all…he’s just got a real fear of breaking the mold, of offending people, stigma set in him from his delicious, safeguarded middle class upbringing, not his fault…

Rooke’s gone to Abu Dhabi, I won’t see her now till I’m back from Oz, we ended on bad terms which is a shame but whatever’s been said has been said, she thinks I get kicks out of being right all the time (which I really do) but she overestimates the lengths I would go to get my kicks and I think she claims to be a better friend than what she thinks she is. I compared being in her presence to ‘trying to piece together a riddle as to why she’s in such a shit mood this time’ oh well…

Tenby tomorrow…

We drove all night and that tune ‘music to watch girls by’ came on..always reminds me of that car advert…which one was it again?

Need to by Feist’s new book, depending on how long it takes up the old man’s, may pop down to swansea with the Card and get it…the grandad promised he’d get it for me…spoiled as fuck.

but I love it.

Crash.

First Things First

Hello Tumblr. I’m writing on you now, this morning, the AM, before I start my daily activities and forget to write on you ever again. I was playing Final Fantasy VIII until about 2 o clock last night, it always reminds me of being in year 5 and the night my brother first showed me porn and told me to tell my school teacher that I wanted to be a midwife when I grow up…bastard.

I’m currently listening to Frank’s newest album, that man always reminds me of swell parties around Joe’s…I loved that house…despite it’s severe lack of heating. I remember once, we played hide and seek and I dived a sleeping bag in Joe’s junk room and smelled something slightly peculiar…as it transpired, that was where his kittens used to do their business before they were house trained…awesome.

Gotta print out all my documentation for Oz today, Visa, Bus Pass, Tickets…blah blah…so much bureaucracy, I have so much meaningless paper strewn everywhere in my room and people genuinely wonder where the rainforest is going? Half of it is buried safely and pointlessly in my old college draw.

Going down Tenby with Emperor Julius Card this weekend, Dave’s too obsessed with Cardiff/too much of a pussy to come and Scotty prolly can’t get the time off work so it’s just the two of us…gonna get ‘ammererd, gonna get shitfaced.

Harry’s back from Uni today, may go see her later, may buy her Rush Hour 3.

Need to buy the new Game magazine, I adore it, the writing is of the highest quality…unlike this blog I keep. I wanna be a games reviewer, wake up at 9, play a game till 2, write about it for 3 hours, lather, rinse and repeat everyday, games and writing combined. Sounds like my heaven. I love writing, so I’ll leave you with one of my poems.

Crash.

A contemplation on Time.

With a persistent pulsating shriek
my alarm clock throws me from my sleep.
But when I glance over at the time
I realize the numbers no longer register.

Certainly my mind recognizes each digit;
I haven’t forgotten the number six, have I?
I’m hesitant to suggest I lost track of numbers
for I still find myself restricted to quatrains.

I don’t think I trust the year and month any longer
so I measured the sun and changing season for myself.
They last much longer
without the day and the minute leading the procession.

Tick tock, tick tock, the second marches on.
Even if every river in the world freezes
and every living creature keels over,
time will continue to flow relentlessly
(whether man catalogues it or not).
As the sun beats down on the radiant sandstone
And everything hunkers down in the shade
The second cries out over the barren land,
Pulsating, unfazed by fatigue, continues to march.

Slowly I fight back, no longer aware of pentameter.
I unplug my alarm, turn the clocks to face the wall.

The last sliver of light caught sight of dust
brilliantly dancing like giddy high scholars
caught in an unknowing and passionate dance.

Complete darkness.
My halogen world.

The sun rising and setting has become intimately
Connected with the concept of time,
I no longer look up.

These very lines begin to fall apart,
they dissolve. broken by the dissonance
between time spectrums.

This piece exists in that it was written
in between two points of my life,
this is the only way it can be referred to.
This was not written in a number of days,
this is measured in the process of thought.

I turn the clock around, it’s only been two hours.
The solidity of time creeps back into my mind;
it’s dinner time, I wasn’t hungry before I saw the clock
but now my stomach is devouring itself.

It’s time for work, it’s time to eat, it’s time to sleep.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Regularity, regularity? Not in my revolution.

Hello Tumblrs.

Today I got tumblr. Jeff had a right go at me, claiming it’s ‘her car’ and she wouldn’t mind me driving like a nutter if it was my own, my argument was that I drive like this when she’s not in the car and always somehow manage to magically survive and if she doesn’t like it; she can take the car off me or get out and walk on the M4.

I’m eating spag. bol. atm, I love Italian food but I’m leaning over to eat it and consequently keep catching my piercing with my teeth, need a smaller bar.

I’m wearing the lairiest pink top ever today that madre supplied at christmas time, I’m undecided whether I like it or not, it will never substitue my ‘to the pub’ t-shirt that Jeff got me which she ruined…the shape on this new one is a little camp…speaking of which, I should really get back on the weights, my arms feel limp and hollow…maybe I’ll go do them in a bit.

Currently speaking to Grace on msn and apparently she cooks her salmon in lime juice, black pepper and with salt to stop it drying out…need to remember to try that. Her and James are still together, I’m glad of that.

I only shaved my moustache this morning, I need it to grow as thick as my cheeks and chin.

2 weeks today and I’m gonna be in Australia, sitting and waiting now, I can guarantee I won’t get that job with Virgin to pay the rent for the next couple of weeks, I turned up 3/4’s of an hour late because the sat nav. lead me to morrisons’.

Well I promised myself that I would type only so long as I had spag. bol. left on the plate and now it’s all gone so bye.

You’re not so bad, tumblr.

Crash.