Martinez:

Battered and Bruised but I’m ok with that.

2009-12-16T00:41:00.000-08:00

“Do you think he’s ok” Brance murmurs to Ang amongst the screams

“Oh yeah, trust me hitting is a good thing”

“Well yeah, but is an elbow to the stomach and slamming his head into the table?”

“Of course, it’s human nature to...”

“But the beer bottle to the…”

“Brance, he’s fine”

“he’s down!”

“He’ll get back up”

“Not with those kinda kicks he’s not” the bartender jests as he tops up Brance’s drink.

“who’s the pretty lady”

“Just a friend of ours” Angela replies whilst shaking the glass in the air for a top up as well”

The sound of shattering glass sets off a chorus of cheers and laughter in the left side of the bar. Brance’s eyes nervously dart to the carnage before making there way back to Angela.

“and you’re positive this is good?” in a concerned tone

“of course, see he’s getting up”

“Only because she seems to have gone somewhere and… Oh my god she’s got a bar stool, run man run!”

It starts with a playful punch at perhaps an over the top comment. It’s returned by maybe a soft shoulder nudge as you pass by, and then before you know it the games have begun. She hides your phone and you pretend the best way to retrieve it is to do the awkward “I don’t want to! but I have to, even though I’d like to, but its too early to tell if you want to” body search rather than just grab your friends phone and call it.

The battling banjos begin to play as you flick her hair in response to a projectile coaster. She takes your seat so you take the last of her drink (instantly realising how much more delicious it is than yours) The stakes are raised a little with a light tap behind her knee as she plays a shot on the pool table, but is shortly responded to by smashing a pool cue across your back as you line up yours.

Nobody flinches as you’re thrown through the concrete wall, pinned down, poked and pinched. You ponder the size versus strength possibilities of this, but really can’t do the math. In fact as you’re lifted from the ground to be body slammed onto the bar counter you give a little jump to assist the manoeuvre because you still don’t comprehend the physics of the situation.

Why do you do this? You do it because through out all the biting and the giggling, the blood, the lust and the Chinese burns. With all the broken bar stools, missing teeth and shattered dreams, you realise that you have been here before, and that her dousing you in whatever it is inside that bottle and lighting up a smoke is supposedly a good thing.

I had an ice cream once… it’s true, and it was delicious. At least it would have been, I got about three licks in when BAM, little Tara Harris blind sided me out of nowhere, slapping the ice cream from my grasp and kicking my shin before storming off into the chaos of the primary school playground. Now I am not so proud to say that I did not take this well and if you must know I was 9 and I cried, I cried like a little girl.

Now what I didn’t know was that the school disco was coming up in a few days, so when that little bitch jumped me, naturally what she was actually saying was do you want to go to the disco? And the answer despite the shooting pain in my shin and the notion that she is a minion of the anti Christ, was yes. Noted it was primary school and the auditorium spent the whole night with girls on one side and boys on the other but we arrived together so it counts…shut up, it counts.

Lesson learned, love hurts. But you learn this as time goes on, although my time in the sun with that one failed to survive the 4th grade. There are only so many doors a 9 year old can walk into if you know what I mean. The nights were the scariest, she’d come home late, breath smelling of cheap whisky and oreo’s, furious that there was no steak on the table. I’d here the footsteps move slowly closer from down the hall mumbling incoherent sentences laced with naughty words, until they reached my door. I would hide under the covers in the early days but it was no good, she was to smart for that. The door would creak open and I’d be left gazing into the darkness at the slouching and half out of breath figure standing in the doorway. She had something in her hand…there was always something in her hand.

Ha, woman right! what are you gonna do?!

But there is a method to the madness, wether it be a non sexually aggressive first contact or an intended mental imprint/physical reminder that the person exists, it works and the dirty little secret is we all know it. Providing of course the setting is right. If you try to snatch a woman’s purse only to discover she’s a champion kickboxer or whatever don’t go misinterpreting the unholy beat down she unleashes as anything other then what it is, your nether regions may receive some attention but not the good kind so I wouldn’t count it as a win.

But in the right setting, completely different story.

The blurry-ness began to fade as I stared up from the floor watching Brance man-ing the fire extinguisher.

“Hey, Brance”

“Hey man” Brance said with a nod before firing off a few burst fire sssscccchhh’s, “I see your nights going well”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re a beautiful man”

ssssccccchhhh, ssssccccccchhhh “Several times, yes” ssssccccchhhh.

“oh”

I flinched, fearing the worst as I felt a hand clasp mine helping me to my feet. But James just smiled as he patted out a small flame on the back of my shoulder.

“When’d you get here?”

“Just now, I got a little held up with some…” he paused as if considering the consequences of his statement and then continued.”…stuff. hey, you got a smoke”

I reached in my pocket and pulled a cigarette out of the now crumpled pack.

“yeah but there a little, you know! It’s been kind of a physically demanding night”

James straightened it out with his fingers before leaning over and lighting it from a small blaze still going on the top pocket of my shirt

“I can see that” he said as he slowly stepped to the side.

Sssssssccccchhhh

“Cheers Brance”

Brance just nodded in approval.

“So how is it coming along then?” James asked as he scanned the bar

“Pretty good I think” I replied as I moved some broken glasses of the bar counter so I could lean on it. James saw this and raised his eyebrows.

“What? Oh, she kind of threw me on the bar and dragged me across it for a while"

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, my man” James replied as he lifted his hand high in the air. Brance watched with an undeniable aura of confusion as we high fived the said bar dragging incident.

“Are you two idiots serious?”

“What? You don’t think she’s hot?”

“Don’t think she’s!?...” Brance pauses as the confusion continues “Are you insane? You look like you’ve been attacked by some form of jungle cat. and not like one that’s lived in captivity or something, but like a real bad ass, don’t fuck with me kinda cat from Africa, you know that right?”

I looked at James for a second opinion to find him nodding in agreement

“I did not, no! but i’m still pretty certain it’s going well?

“Brance looked at James for a second opinion to find him again nodding in agreement

“Oh come on man, she set you on fire!”

“I know right, I think I’m in with a shot”

James signalled with his head as they approached, we all chatted for a bit before she slapped my drink from my grasp, kicked me in the shin and stormed off into the chaos of the playground. To which I then followed.

“She set you on fire” Brance yelled as I began to disappear, to which I continued onward only replying with a thumbs up, held high in the air as I pressed on.

"Oh to be young again" James sighed as he flagged down the bartender. "Make it strong barkeep"

"And how did your thing go?" Ang asked whilst claiming the adjacent bar stool.

"it doesn't matter"

"sure it does how did..."

"Ang! seriously. Just leave it"

"You're the boss"

Both were left staring straight ahead for a few moments silence

"So you got next round"

it took a second but James turned with a smile

"Barkeep"

I woke up in a dumpster some time later.

Dead remote batteries

2009-11-29T13:25:00.000-08:00

Famous quotes:

Beth, complaining to James how she has all these bruises on her but has no idea where they came from.

"oh, some might have come from when I was poking you with my poking stick when you fell asleep."

We all had a good laugh and that was that.

side note:

Two days later James and I were hanging out playing Halo in his room when the phone rang. As I searched for the remote I was stunned to see James reach for the phone with one hand and reach under his bed with the other, revealing a long, thin, wooden device. a device he then proceeded to wave around in the air until he managed to rest it on the televisions volume button.

It took a while to click but I got there eventually.

Evidently the statement "When I was poking you with my poking stick when you fell asleep" Not a euphemism!, completely literal.... you just can't make this shit up.

It did occur to me later that none of us were laughing at the same thing.

I was laughing from some slick wordplay and childish guy humour, Beth was laughing at the idea of James poking her with his man made poker stick thingy as she slept, and James was laughing at the fact that I was under the impression he was talking about his penis when he was actually not.

Recently though James was belting out a rant about his boss to which he referred to him utilizing his poking stick. The statement confused me more than that of which I'm proud of.

Magic Beans

2009-06-20T11:40:00.000-07:00

Collapsed over the bar counter in a massive heap the giant lay sobbing over his failed marriage. It was late and the bartender knew he should have cut him off earlier but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it, but the hours had gone bye and he had to close up.

Impressively he had manage to be quite stealthy in swiping another bottle of wine from behind the counter when the bartenders back was turned, mentally congratulating himself on his stealth like abilities as he shuffled out the door mumbling in coherent sentences laced with hurt and blasphemies.

A long, detoured path the giant walked until he could finally see the lights of his home fumbling around for his keys as he came closer, the giant tripped on a hard log of some sort sending him quite majestically through the air before crash landing into the cloudy surface below. Crawling back across the ground to find his unfinished bottle of wine, he found himself baffled that he had never noticed this rather large root emerging from the ground like the top of a large vine or something. Convinced it was the evidence of foul play by that heartless wench who ripped his heart out he staggered to his feet, screaming “you bitch” whilst hurling the bottle into the abyss, instantly feeling regret and wishing he had just a little more time with his wine.

Slowly he made his way through the house and finally to his room. The harp had mentioned something to him as he walked past but the giant was still in mourning over his wine and cared so very, very little about anything else but bed. Face down the giant dropped in his bed and there he lay until morning light.

The sun beamed in through the window and the giant was woken by his soul rejecting everything the sun stood for, head throbbing the giant made his way back through the house to find some aspirin bypassing the harps room as he is always greeted with a lecture from that self righteous stringed instrument after a big night. Downing the extra strength pain killers, he fetched from the cabinet a box of goose food and went about delivering the gooses breakfast.

Confused that his beloved goose was not in his room or his pond the giant sought to consult with his harp to see if she knew where the goose had gone. Horror swept over the giants face as he opened the door to see his harp also missing. Consumed by rage the giant raced to the telephone.

“you heartless bitch”

“oh it’s you hello”

“its not enough you slept with someone else but you think you can just come in here and take whatever you want, well guess what! pre nup baby, you signed it”

“look David I have no idea what your talking about”

“and I don’t even know why you took my harp, the harp doesn’t even like you”

“Listen I didn’t take your stupid….wait, what? What did she say?”

“who?”

“the harp!”

“what?”

“what did the harp say about me?”

“oh, does it really matter?”

“that bitch!”

At that moment the giant looked from his window to see what looked like his harp and his goose both of them mouths gagged, slowly levitating slightly of the ground, away from the house. Dropping the phone the giant rushed outside to see a tiny man darting across his yard carrying his friends like a waiter carrying two massive piles of plates in each hand.

“hey” the giant yelled as he followed in pursuit, still feeling the after affects of last night. Baffled at the great strength and speed of this creature for the size of his body he watched as he ducked underneath what looked like a tree root. Thinking to have him cornered the giant began to reason with him.

”look, give me back my harp and my goose and I wont call the cops”

but after no answer, he cautiously crept closer to see that it was not a root but the top of a very tall tree, again impressed by the skill of this burglar as it climbed down this gigantic tree whilst both hands, still keeping the goose and harp captive he attempted to climb down after him only to be boldly reminded by his lack of co ordination that he was still indeed a little drunk.

Slowly, he mounted the mighty fern and one foot at a time began to climb down after him, never looking down, just eyes closed, repeating “just one at a time, just one at a time” like a mantra in his head.

Eventually the giant muscled up the courage to look to see the bottom but as he did he found that he could neither see the ground nor the thief anymore, but as he began to pick up the pace he began to feel a faint vibration in the tree, at first it was nothing almost un noticeable but it slowly grew greater and greater as this unstable vine began to shake with every vibration. Realizing what was happening the giant looked up and found that he couldn’t see the top either, frantically the giant began to rush down the tree losing his footing several times whilst screaming nay begging the creature to stop, but the vibrations just got greater and greater as the pleading giant wailed in despiration.

Finally a loud crack gave way and the stalk began to tip, the giant paused with fear clenching the branch tightly as it began to fall. He began to see the faces of all the people he’d known and loved as the rushing sound of the wind echoed through his ears, he thought of his ex wife and his goose that he had raised from birth, he smiled as he remember the long nights up talking to his harp, just shooting the breeze and having a good time He remembered everything and was reminded that he had lost them all, his wife, his best friend even his pet were gone everything he had ever loved now just a memory, his happiest of memories now his most painfull replay in his head until finally he could remember no more.

The giant hit the ground with a mighty thud as the creature, with a conquering smirk tossed aside the cutting object, a broken shard from what seemed to be from a gigantic sized wine bottle. He picked up the goose and the harp, mouths still gagged and walked back to his home and lived happily ever after.

Team Ramrod

2009-01-11T18:58:00.000-08:00

A wise man once said to me, a good friend will bail you out of jail but a great friend will be sitting in the cell next to you announcing “that was fucking hilarious”. Actually, this guy wasn’t so much a wise man as much as he was just man, in fact his only claims to fame was not his intelligence but his ability to dot the I’s in the snow and creating multiple objects, shapes and animals with his…. You know what! he could dot the I’s in the snow, nothing else.

I found myself reflecting on these words as reality hit me. This is the code, the great divider between BFF and just F. Those lucky enough to have it are truly blessed whilst those who don’t are considered alone and in the dark. In some cases there are some whom have it in spades and are considered to be bounding around naked, in the orchard above the dark hole where those who don’t are kept. Eating grapes from the vine and chuckling at the others misfortune, announcing at great volume that the view is much better from up here.

And that it is, except for today, today the world seems a little darker as one of my hypothetical fellow prisonees aka orchard dwellers, is heading off for greener pastures in the land of berets, baggett’s and Doc Holiday moustaches.

It would seem my friend the competitions will die with your absence as I know not a worthy adversary in any other. To put a spin on things I do look forward to the hours of extra time coming my way as it is well known that anything with the slightest hint of opposition must be kept away from us at all costs, as nothing else even comes close to imminent until we can claim a winner.

For those in the cheap seats, I’m not just talking about the obvious stuff here, although many a night a drunkin game of ping pong has resulted in playing through till the sun comes up hours after everybody has called it in “alright, alright best out of 1,987,555” , Im talking bout the off chance that one leaps over a fence to get somewhere and the next few hours consists of brave new ways of leaping fences until one is either crowed champion or pronounced dead.

“o.k one foot take off from behind the bush, over the fence, no hands, eyes closed and the overhanging tree branch must tip off your hat….GO!”

Perhaps now that your going I can be a little more productive with my free time. maybe I’ll chase butterflies or something. I did however take on board your suggestions and am sorry to say that sweeping ice is not something I see myself doing in the near future, Broomball is not a sport man! it’s a chore, a god damn household chore, but judge not lest yee be judged, I accept you for who you are and so as a statement of my support in your choice of , ahem “sports” I decided to do a little research on the old google and found a new sport that’s way up your alley man, I mean its not that big yet but baby, we could take it to the top!

Check it, Extreme Ironing man, think about it, you get all the awesomeness that being extreme has to offer, plus the bonus of having a nice crease free shirt when your finished, its win win.

And so as I ponder the future, I cant help but think about the past. I guess it only seemed logical to join forces as it would only be a matter of time before one of us decided to finally bury that hatchet deep into the others skull, not out of hate or spite, but for supreme unchallengeable power. In hindsight, apart from the manslaughter charges, that would have proved to be a mistake. For then Team Ramrod would never have been and the world would go on believing that there wasn’t something out there who could beat them in absolutely everything.

Mercifully, those that have risen against us have been playfully patronised due to their positions, unfortunately resorting to a drastic name change being the only awesome thing left of their team. You know who you are, Team awesome sucks and I say that out of love, love and an awareness of suckyness and those renowned for bringing the suck.

Apart we were strong but together we were invincible, Id like to take some part of the credit but that would be misleading for though there are fields of my own expertise, the truth is it is you who carries the torch even though I will never ever say it again and will be forced to delete this line if it is ever quoted.

And so, the Gods felt threatened and Team Ramrod has been separated into opposite sides of the world, A sad, sad day indeed my friend for we are now doomed to move out of the golden years and into a world without mindless competitions, without pointless arguments and impossible bets, a world without complete and utter desecration and humiliation, A world without RamRod.

Gods speed Superman, You will be missed

The Designated

2008-12-05T20:59:00.000-08:00

"What?! that's bullshit"

"Bullshit nothing, why you being so selfish?"

"Nope, uh uh, no way you ain't switching this to me man, no sir."

"I can see your confused and that's o.k your friends are here for you, we are all here, just let it out big guy"

"Ha your funny, anybody ever tell you how funny you are, I bet you get told how funny you are all the God damn time, hell the things a man could do with that kinda gift, you know, the gift of being funny, shit a man could do great things"

"I am deeply sorry for your loss, really I am and I wish I could help you, really I do but my hands are tied, really they are."

"This is some serious BS, so you guys get to...and I have to.....oh this is Bull shit"

"Tell you what first ones on me. Diet or regular?"

"I hate you."

"what"??

"you, I hate you"

"oh o.k"

Grant sat:

slumped in his chair in shear disappointment, questioning the humanism of his fellow man. There sat the designated driver, a noble charge but heavy lies the crown. In honour we drink to your sacrifice made here tonight and in justice our hangovers shall be quite severe.

Grant drank coke and ate burger rings:

Reflecting on the duty, it really does suck you'll get no arguments from me, butit is my belief that there are worse things that can happen to a man. Think about it, all the free food, cigarettes and coke you can devour not to mention the satisfaction of being the only mammal in the room with the ability to make intelligent decisions. I picture it as a similar situation to a journalist in a documentary on the life of penguins, with the journalist standing in the middle giving the report whilst the little retards are running around in circles, bumping into each other, sliding down hills and trying to chat up the hot bartender. Stupid sea birds, shes a lesbian. Though there is no competition as to who is having more fun I'm sure there is a certain satisfaction gained.

Grant drove:

The night was nearing its end and at last the time of the designated was upon us. last rounds were called and we wandered out marvelling at the beauty of the stars and arguing the unknown truths of the universe, its creation and how its all relevant to how in life we should all just chill. I'm told the argument continued as the 6 of us piled into Grants Hyundai and were carted away to our various destinations.

Grant receives the Congressional Medal of Honour:

One by one our intoxicated band of mystical theologians dispersed. with every house separating our bonding session just that extra seat more. To the credit of Grant he did earn himself the medal of honour in going over and above the call of duty, Tim in his inebriated state had locked himself out in which Grant proceeded to help him remove the fly screen and climb through the window whilst the rest of us remained semi conscious in the warmth of the car. Even as I stumbled out of the car I do remember being escorted to the house and even having the spare key fetched so I wouldn't make to much noise, I was later reminded of my passionate speech of adoration, confessing my love for Grant and how he is a great friend and so on and so on.

THE NEXT MORNING

"Good morning pumpkin"

"groan"

"Breakfast is on if you want some"

"groan"

"Hey kiddo, I don't suppose you know where Kevin is do you?"

"how the hell should I know wher...wait what?"

It was Angela, Angela looking for Kev. Why you ask? lets recap.

Remember the whole Tim being locked out and Grant having to jig the fly screen and help his drunken ass through the window. well there is a simple and logical explanation for that....IT WASN'T HIS HOUSE and remember my being escorted to the door...aha yeah, again a simple explanation IT WASN'T MY HOUSE. Ang was looking for Kev because Kev was MIA and in his stead was a pants less free loader passed out on her lounge, nothing says good morning like an unconscious, half naked intruder.

Grant had a plan:

Our designated friend had some how managed to not only drop us all of at each others houses but to keep us entertained long enough for us to not catch on to the whole devious plot. Naturally all of this amused Angela to no end, to which she took great delight in analysing the work and genius involved in pulling something like this off.

"He even got your pants...how did he get your pants? that's..well that's just incredible?"

"Look I dont know"

"well lets retrace your steps so you were wearing pants when he dropped you off yes?, walked you to the door with pants, lead you to the couch pants still in tact and then left sometime later with pants nowhere to be seen... hhmm what could possibly have happened, what indeed?"

"HA fucking HA, that's right you got me, Im a gay man. As gay as they come, very clever."

"Hey tell it to the pants Kiddo"

"are you not even remotely concerned that your husband didn't come home last night? maybe he's missing his pants to if yah no what I mean, eehh, wink wink, eehh say no more, say no more"

"Tell you what you look cold, very cold (giggle) I'll go get you the latest in leg warming technology"

leaving the room babbling to herself about something I suggested that she should probably call her new found hero to find out the where abouts of her husband if she ever wanted to see him alive again. Still marvelling in the deceitful genius that is Grant, she made her way to the phone returning several minutes later phone in hand and more importantly pants in the other. Standing in the patented phone to ear position I noticed a slight grin forming.

"What?"

"Its for you"

"what?"

"I'm pretty sure its for you"

She restated, whilst passing the phone to me smile now beaming from ear to ear. The phone had gone to voicemail and the leave a message after the beep had been replaced with a 3 min period of Grant in utter hysterics laughing and cackling as if he had just successfully stolen Christmas, jokes aside that was a nice touch. It took almost a week to get in contact with him on account of him deciding to not change his voice mail and let every call from us go to it but eventually he broke the silence.

"Hey man whats happening tonight?"

"Grant? that you?"

"Ah yeah man! whats wrong with you!? so where we headed?"

"Wow this is definitely unexpected I mean,I..I..I don't know what to say"

"how about a little information, like where we are going tonight, might be an idea"

"I'm just not sure I can trust again"

"Why!? did something happen?, whats up?"

"Well its about the pants I ... I want them back!"

"Those pants were a gift they belong to me now"

"But But"

"Its time to let go, they've gone to a better place"

"I hate you!"

"what?"

"you I hate you"

"oh o.k"

Grant is a Dick:

Bringing Frenchy Back!

2008-11-08T21:58:00.000-08:00

Every where I look these days one minority or another is crying out for acceptance, more rights and a 400k + bonus to ease the pain of being a pioneer in whatever the fuck you kids are getting into these days. I don’t wanna come off as some kind of hater or anything, truth be told its quite the opposite.

I feel these days im as pro choice as they come, dude wants to kiss a dude: you go for your life, 2 chicks getting married: hey, strangely hot. 4 guys decide to experiment with 2 girls a swing set and an Emu: look, I dont care. As far as im concerned your business is none of my business, live long and prosper. Just don’t bug me with it whilst I’m watching my cartoons. The whole Idea of me not caring means I’m not fussed what your doing but I sure as shit don’t want to hear about how hard it is to support your own decisions.

Pro choice-ism is the name of the game here people, possibly just a nice way of saying I don’t give a fuck-ism or I found myself a nice sweet spot on this fence here and I ain’t gonna move-ism.

Regardless of whether there is any substantial evidence to Pro choice-ism’s credibility as actual dialogue, there is however a defining moment one has with ones self when faced with reality and blessed with the knowledge that you are in fact, not the be all and end all of life as we know it.

“Hey self, what’s new?”

“Oh hey man, not much.”

“You wanna hear something crazy that I…”

“Sorry, im gonna have to stop you right there.”

“What!? Why?”

“Did you know that you are one smoking hot motha fucka, I mean hot damn.”

“You think so?”

“I know so!”

“Well thank you self, but may I continue?”

“Sure, I guess. Just as long as you know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That shit son you got it goin on, wooooohoooo.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“You know it!”

“So you wanna know what I learnt today?”

“You bet your sweet Ass I do?”

“Did you know not everybody thinks like us?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know all these other people we see walking around.”

“You mean the ugly ones?”

“Yeah, turns out none of them thinks like us.”

“What?”

“I know! apparently there is this thing called self perspective which is basically an outworking of ones up bringing and personal circumstances.”

“No shit”.

“And from that flows things like opinions and beliefs. Which couldn’t possibly be the same, because everybody has had different shit happen to them which altar’s their thinking, which is based from their up bringing, which is unique in the first place.”

“Well that’s just amazing, that’s what that is!”

“You said it!”

“………………”

“………………”

“So you wanna get some pizza?”

As necessary as all this is, there are some who will spend their whole life with not so much as an after thought of it. Studies have shown contributing factors such as religion and/or trailer parks play major roles in the almighty powers of ignorance, causing an individual to be stuck in that primary school mentality that we have all enjoyed at one stage of our junior years, in which it was perfectly acceptable nay justified for one complete stranger to call another complete stranger an idiot or evil just for the shear satisfaction of it all.

For the rest of us though, such imperative random abuse should now only be reserved for animals and ugly children, better to lock your sights on less repercussions by saving your frustration for those that cant legally defend themselves, lest bare the consequences of something like a male anatomy themed parade filled with naked people who dance freakishly well!.…..cause that would just be darn right nutty.

From the other side of the coin however, whenever you take on the norm you have to expect some kind of opposition, at the very least to the degree of what level of anti norm your shooting for. Honestly to expect otherwise would be nothing short of naive. something about with every force there is an equal and opposing force, Im no physicist but I do believe Mr Newton got it right with that third law of his and in my opinion the expectation of smooth sailing would be just plain ignorant. You gotta take the good with the bad besides Just because a few people don’t understand you, doesn’t mean the whole world is against you! Though it might be, I don’t know, I missed the last meeting.

In light of all of this, much to the amusement of those whom I surround myself with from day to day, I have taken an unnecessary liking to one particular item of clothing and have made it my very own personal vendetta to see its time live again. I love my beret, God help me I really do. More oval then round and without the girly little tip on the very top, my black beret is as much a part of me as it was to Che Guevara.

Granted it’s a risky maneuver so you have to play your cards exactly right to pull it off, for example always wearing matching clothes and at all times have the right angle tilted on that bad boy for maximum effect.

Behold the glory of it, bask in its greatness. Dwell in the presence of its awesomeinity For when you gaze upon it, you are not just seeing the past become present, oh no! you, my friend are staring at the future. Im bringing it back, oh yes! I’m gonna bring that motha back if it’s the last thing I do.

Much easier said than done!

Bringing it back however requires much more work then I first anticipated, advertising is a bitch and believe you me its not all cat walks and Chanel parties Its isolation and its pain. A never ending abyss of torment and ridicule to which all that seemed trusted is withered away leaving only mourning for what once was. Never again will I under estimate the power of anti conformity. lesson learned, communism is alive and well in the fashion industry. You wanna know why those puncy little Emo’s are always so upset, if something as minuet as a beret can cause incident, these fuckers are walking around in vampire costumes and shit, no wonder the little bastards cut themselves.

I feel for you my brothers, well maybe not quite! but I do have some advice: Through thick and thin one must endure the trials and tribulations set before him and press on to receive the prize. you gotta be sold out for the cause or else you aint gonna make it. Through blood, sweat and tears hold on for dear life, stray but a little and you will fail conceding your efforts as little more than a cry for attention……Well that and take the knife away from your fucking arm, your heart has not been raped, its not all about you!!

I received a call from James late-ish last Saturday, there were loud voices battling with loud music in the back round. It was hard to get a trace on their position but it was pretty much a guarantee that they were on the move. Before I could even get a word in he began shouting as to avoid both turning the music down or me not hearing his declaration.

“Dude! Jazz, The Basement. Woooooooh!, be at yours in 10.

“Can you make it 30, I just got home from..”

Argh! what the f…one more time Grant, just one more time and I swear im gonna fucking….Beep.

The basement is located in a side alley in Circular quay and is renowned for its groove, so I figured it was a pretty good time to market my line of head wear. I wasn’t really in the mood for a big night, but I am always up for some Jazz so I wasn’t going to argue the idea.

Aprox 40 mins later Kim's car rocked up Grant, Tim and Lisa in the back with James riding shotgun, for those that are counting that’s a full car. Opening the rear door released an amplified wave of yelling mixed with Dave Mathews belting out of all speakers. I squeezed myself into the already over populated back seat avoiding rubbing and being rubbed up as much as physically possible.

As I struggled to wedge myself into a dignified spot, James reached for the volume control as he swivelled around to inform me of his inspiration for the night, however as he turned his facial expression changed hinting that he had spontaneously changed what he was about to say.

“God damn it! again with the hat. You’re killing me man.”

“ What!? come on, this looks good and you know it, Im telling you Jim its coming back ”

“Irrelevant, every time man! every time you wear that thing. your like a magnet for random fire, its almost like your walkin around with no pants on or sumthan and who am I? i’ll tell you who I am, im the guy buying drinks for the guy with no pants on and how does that score? Not well my friend, not fucking well at all.

“Would you like me to take off my pants James! is that what your saying? Cause if that’s what your saying, you can just come right out and say it.”

“God What is it with you and your pants, its always about your pants isn’t it. seriously every time we talk dude we some how manage to get back to the pants and the lack there of, just once I'd like to sit down and have a nice conversation that doesnt involve male nudity, I think it would be a healthy change of pace for us, what do you say sport can you deal with that.”

“I think it looks good.” A voice cutting in from the drivers seat.

“Yeah, Word!”

“Kim, do you want me to go through the whole pants metaphor again”

“So I thought you said 10 mins. What up!”

“Yeah, we got some donuts on the way, it is Jazz night after all. Here.”

I failed to see the connection, but as he passed me half a box of double glazed, it began to matter less and less. We arrived at the Basement with a half hour till midnight to spare. Everything was already in motion a 6 piece band complete with a trumpet and a saxophone were in all definition rocking the joint, most tables were free on account of all the hippen and a hoppin going on stage side to which Tim and Lisa almost immediately disappeared into the crowd to join the masses whilst the rest of us set up camp at one of the tables. James dealt out some cigars like playing cards explaining “Jazz needs Cigars” I suppose it was irrelevant that we can't smoke inside anymore but it didn’t seem to stop his enthusiasm. He tucked his inside his inner jacket pocket and with that was off for first rounds. Returning with 4 scooners and a “Jazz needs alcohol” as he placed them down on the allocated coasters.

Several rounds had gone bye and somewhere in between Tim had returned Lisa less. I muscled up to retrieve next round and made my way to the bar. Watching the band I began to zone out, swaying and moving to their beat. Don’t know what it was, the music, the booze, maybe I was just tired, I know not. What I do know though, is that those cats had me feeling alllllll right!

3 maybe 5 minutes past when I was awoken from my trance by a tap on the shoulder. I slowly turned my head and greeted the tapper with a jolt of my head in an upward direction. There stood a medium sized man with bleached blond hair, in a white short sleeve t shirt his neck covered with a darkish scarf standing hands on hips, noticeably pushing his ass to one side.

“I like your hat” he snickered with a deceitful grin on his face.

Careful self he’s trying to trap you!

“Mhmm” I replied whilst handing the bartender a twenty.

"I had no idea we were back in the French revolution?"

And there it is.

“Mhmm” I replied whilst scooping up the drinks, again trying not to engage the conversation.

He had his own little posse of 2 guys seconding his every sentence with their ooohh’s and “oh ho, snap’s” which wasn’t as effective as it was agitating which come to think of, maybe that made it effective…Fuck.

“You know I was thinking of getting one of those big Napoleon hats with the feather and stuff but there just so darn hard to find maybe you could get me one when you go back to your little hat store.”

“Mhmm,Im sorry do I know you.”

No…and you never will” (backup choir)“ooooohh burn”

“Then why the fuck are we talking?” I questioned as I turned from facing the bar to facing him with the full intention of a cool strutting exit.

“Aha well played self. you sexy son of a bitch.”

The change in my approach through him off just a little but not soon after he rebutled with a:

“hey heres an idea why don’t you just leave the fashion to us hmm hows that sound”

Whilst this hate crime was being carried out James had decided to investigate after seeing a conversation developing which was clearly coming in between him and the consumption of his beer.

“What the hell man. Jazz needs alcohol! James needs alcohol….he paused for a second stared at me, then stared at the heckling choir and repeated…. Jazz and James need alcohol. So where’s the beef!”

“No beef, I was just telling your friend here to leave the fashion to us?”

James shot a look to me with all the expression of “No pants, its like no pants.” We both knew what he meant by the “us” in that sentence though neither of us was prepared to go there.

“Us? you mean like the, we hate hats anonymous club. how could he do that. then no one would get to wear any hats. then what the fuck are we gonna do in the summer to shield our faces? Huh! what then? Use a magazine… our hands, fuck that.
He smirked a little and continued…

“we’d be all red and shit, Now Im thirsty but rest assured see that guy over there” as he pointed to the bartender “That’s his under study, he’ll listen to all the hat discrimination you can conjure up mmkay……...mmkay”

And with that he took his beer out of my hands and we made our way back to the tables.

(Me in the back round chanting “Woooooh wooooh burn bitch woooh!!” ha not really I fought the urge.)

There was a delayed reaction and a yelling of something but it was hard to make out over the loudness of the music. I strolled over to my chair and dropped as if exhausted by irritation. Grant was smiling! I don’t know why, probably because he's a dick, Kim gave me a punch on the shoulder whilst asking un sympathetically:

“what’s up with you.”

I took a large mouth full of my beer and stared aimlessly into the wall across the room. James began to explain only to be interrupted.

“What the hell was that!?”

A slight pause struck the table with all except me grinning like obese children.

“I mean who the fu..? why the..? what the hell.”

James withdrew his cigar from his jacket pocket and bit down on the tip.

“The queen’s got a point man”

“Fuck off he does, his wearing a skin tight t-shirt with a scarf, a scarf??? , Its like 30ºC, Fuck him.”

“wait wait wait“ Grant interceded “you mean to tell me that even the dudemiester in the scarf thought you looked like a dick“

I acknowledged his comment with a sad drop of the head. Grant burst into tears of joy.

“Oh dude, im gonna go ahead and get you another drink”

“Im telling you the whole worlds gone to hell, people can were there pants around there ankles and its cool, giant hubcap belt buckles on skin tight white jeans that you have to use a jigsaw to cut the bastards off and you get stylish, but NOOO I cant look like a french men if I want. You know the French have more sex then the Dutch have pot.”

“But dude, no one likes the French”

“I like the French”

“but no one cares what you think”

“Yeah, Well no one cares what you think”

“I hardly see how that’s relevant”

“ You…but….I….Screw you man Im bringing it back”

“And so you shall, but not tonight co-chief. Not tonight”

It seems to me the majority of people couldn’t really care less whether Xenu is your homeboy or if you smoke pole for a living or even if you are just one big giant pole in a scarf, however wearing a beret is entirely much more freedom that any man really needs. "you sir, have the right to vote and the right to carry a firearm but I just gotta ask, what the fuck is that on your head?"

Apparently there is a line and wearing a beret sends you sailing majestically right over that Bi-atch. I guess some shit is just to serious to fuck with.

In the grand scheme of things I suppose it really doesn’t matter Noah had his critics too and you know what happened to them…Their DEAD ass hole, down to the very last wise ass, floating face down in a sea of there own comedic genius.

Screw you guys, I’m Bringing it Back, you'll see!

Letter of Redemption

2008-09-24T23:40:00.000-07:00

To whom it may concern:

I am writing to you on this day because I feel compelled to answer to the rumours that may or may not have been brought to your attention. In this effort, hopefully I may put to rest any resentment or remorse to those that feel wronged in anyway, shape or form.

In the subject of Ryan, I’m afraid I must confirm that he is indeed bad ass! furthermore Taylor has proved much less aggravating then her predecessor. I also feel it necessary to note that Seth is in fact the man and Hercules seems only fitting as the father of said bad ass. It is true, if given the chance I would definitely do Taylor over Summer and have since noticed that every problem that resulted in death, injury or emotional pain can be pointed squarely at one person, a fact that to this day still keeps me up at night, although she did spend half a season with the blond girl which in turn cancels all the bad stuff out, another fact that keeps me up at night but for entirely different reasons.

I understand the consequences of this statement, however this is not my main concern in this matter. I am fully aware that my recent enthusiasm does not reflect the opinions and beliefs of my former self, so much so, the hypocrisy in its self may be too much for you to bear. Although at that time the words that were spoken most definitely outlined my previous stance in the matter, I feel obligated to express that though it was not an act of deceit at the time, I do not believe the statements declared both shamelessly and publicly to be of relevance anymore.

And so, a recant is in order. Understand, to my knowledge there was no documentation of said events. However foul play is still foul play, you have been wronged in my premature, inaccurate judgement and I am man enough to make things right.

J-mac, I’m sorry I lied,

There were not free showbags of tampons and lip balm at the 2nd season launch.

Dave, I apologise,

George Michael did not base his screen play on the events between you two, I didn’t even know George Michael had a screenplay!! And am aware if he does the possibility of it actually being about you is quite impossible.

Teenagers in JB HiFi:

Im pretty sure the theme song “California” is actually about the state California, a group of people going there, and all being very happy about it!! rather than a subliminal message about the climax in a Californication manfest, im not even sure that’s a word let alone an act. I know I referred to the red hot chilli peppers but be assured there is no connection between the two songs.

Again J-mac I’m sorry,

I did not see a new fruit, vodka and kahlua beverage called the orange county being handed out for advertisement at the front door of the Toolbox. Truth be told I have never been east of George st, let alone down Kings cross.

Guy waiting in line at the tattoo parlour,

I was not undecided over whether the I heart R.A tattoo on the producers bicep, stood for I heart Ryan Atwood, I heart Ryans Ass or Iceland hearts Ryans Assets. He doesn’t have a tattoo, I don’t have a tattoo, I just wanted some gummi bears.

The bathrooms, toilets and rest room walls of N.S.W (and parts in Europe).

J-mac is not the Lord, King, Mayor, General, Matradee, Ambassador, Zoo Keeper or Pool Cleaner of Homotown, there is no Homotown! nor anyone who occupies it.

If I have missed anything let it be known here and now that I whole heartedly apologise for that too and in no way find the contents or actions of whatever was said or done amusing from any perspective what so ever.

Before you today stands a corrected man bemused to the fact that I could have ever protested anything with Lesbians, cage matches and Kevin Sorbo in it. I openly confess that I have turned from my wicked ways and am now on the path of a higher knowledge and though my hypocrisy knows no bounds, I will seek redemption from this day forth.

Consider this my formal apology.

Forgive me, I knew not what I did.

Martinez

I heart Taylor 4ever

It's all just a ploy!

2008-08-24T23:19:00.000-07:00

If life has taught me anything in this crazy world we live in, it’s that there is a first time for everything. (Exemptions applicable to Hermits and OCD sufferers). But fortunately - and sometimes unfortunately, for the rest of us - we remain subject to the spontaneous and in some cases the assumably impossible, made a reality by Murphy's law in all its random glory.

Tim
"Booyah! that's game bitches. $40, pay the man."

As the two scrunched 20 dollar bills hit the deck of the pool table, an over exaggerated high five echoes the defeat, ultimately proclaiming the victorious. Well that and the synchronized pelvic thrusts targeting the defeated from the other side of the table as they, heads dropped, dawdle out of the room in utter disgrace.

James Grant and Tim Harvey, the undisputed doubles champions and self titled house pro's of the Harvey household. So much so that round these parts, they’re often referred to as the woodies of intoxicated pool.

(Sub explanation: the Woodies is the name of the Australian tennis team of Todd Woodbridge and Mark Woodforde. whilst both decent players, when partnered together, in their prime were considered by most Australians as unbeatable).

much like my money sharking companions.

I wish I could say I felt sorry for the long list of casualties but to play them for money on their own turf is just plain stupid. Everybody knows when it comes to pool you just can’t fuck with the home town advantage. Every bend, curve and dip has been well analysed and is exploited in full diabolical force.

The rapid thrusts continued in perfect synchronisation until line of sight was lost, admittedly this is not an uncommon occurance. Tim took several bows before sitting down, whereas James said not a word, instead he stood in his own excellence and waved to the peasants. Sigh again not uncommon.

Tim
"Thank you linesmen, thank you ball boys."

James
"Forgive my intrusion ladies but you must excuse my rudeness, for I, James the first, must pee. Feel free to worship me in my absence"

And with that James disappeared into the crowd displaying his best kingly walk.

Kev
"Yeah yeah, three shakes is classed as a wank your highness"

Roughly 10 minutes later he emerged from the crowd, drink in hand and still mildly pleased with himself. This was rather strange, seeming that our booze not to mention the keg was downstairs with us and NOT in the toilet, which at the time was quite frightening due to A)why was he drinking a beer he found in the toilet and of course, much more disturbingly B) if that's not the case just where exactly did he take a piss?

Strolling passed inquisitive eyes he plonked himself up on the counter next to me and took a sip of his drink.

me
"Nice beer."

James
"You know it."

Tim
"You pissed in my fridge didn't you?"

James
"Haha, nah man! Jackson, you know something that guy's alright.

Tim
"So Jackson pissed in my fridge"

James
"What, no.... well, I don’t know, at least I didnt see him do it. He stopped me on the way back, said he was watching us play, gave me the beer.”

Uuhh hang on, Shit! maybe I should back it up a bit, sorry:

Recently our parties have been drawing some serious crowds, now I say parties but what I really mean is gatherings, hoedowns, corroborees and any other social arrangements of the sort. Once upon a time, back in high school, it was just us, if we wanted to hang out and drink one night, we could feel free to do so knowing full well that when we woke after we crashed out, the house would be relatively in the same state of that of which we left it and that if it wasn't, it was cool cause it was just us, and if something was, touch wood, broken, stolen or defecated, it was undoubtably morally called for. If you wanted to get your serious party on, you would do it at some other random’s house not yours, for the obvious reasons.

But the times have been a changing. Most of us split up to different unis, jobs etc, so when the words "social get together" are thrown around, all of the sudden the number of "us" become larger, considerably larger. Consequently, many conversations were falsely interpreted and as of thus far have been deemed outdated and useless.

Example:

"so I’m probably gonna have a quiet one. Few drinks at this guys house, real casual like. No big deal, not like it's a party or anything. Should be good."

Interpretation:

I’m probably gonna have a quiet one. Few drinks at this guys house, real casual like. No big deal, not like it's a Party or anything. Should be a good party, we'll see how the party goes, party, party, party. You and every other drop kick you know should come to our party, I will be personally offended if you don’t party with us at the party….party….big party…….. party."

You can see how things can get a little confused, so to keep up with the times an invitation like the above is now more likely to sound a bit more like:

"So I’m gonna get out my shotgun this weekend and just unload on anyone who walks passed this guy's house, Yep. I’m a be shootin fuckers from dusk till dawn, no big deal, should be good.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, why wouldn’t you just not say anything? Avoid the whole “misunderstanding” all together? A logical statement I’ll give you that, but flawed none the less, because since our new found fame we have come to understand that, without being picky, we like having a vast majority of people at these things and this way we can semi control who and the amount of whom attend.

Exaggerate much?! Maybe, but the moral of the story is our parties have gotten bigger and that it’s never a good idea to take candy from hookers.

So anyway one of the regular attendees was this Asian dude named Jackson, nice enough guy, very metro though. He was a friend of a friend of our friends to begin with, but after a few gatherings he had worked his way to at least the inner-outer circle of the friendships hierarchy. He was a class act, Jackson, and all in all was a pretty smooth criminal.

Ha criminal! get it,…Haha… you know, from the…. With the….. glove,…hmmm!

Fun fact number one about Jackson is that his name isn’t Jackson, it was Jun Tao or Jun Tin, definitely Jun something. In any case Jun was deemed entirely too much effort and Jun became Jack. I had considered that to be somewhat disrespectful earlier in the piece but you know, whatever!

Not long after, Jack combined with the efforts of the karate kid, quickly transferred to Jackson when a quickly pronounced “Jack, son” was met instantly by intoxicated cheers, drinks clashing together in celebration and several attempted moonwalks in awe of the un documented moment of clarity, partnered with the event of discovering how clever we are.

So Jun something became Jack and Jack became Jackson and that’s who allegedly didn’t piss in Tim’s fridge.

And we’re back in!

Kim
“Well that was nice of him.”

Tim glared at James for a second before slowly backing up out of the room and heading for the kitchen.

James
“Ha, yeah guess he recognised the skills or sumthan.”

Kev
“The skills? Yeah Im sure that’s exactly it Jay-Z, player be running hoes up in this mother, and the Jackman knows to recognise. “

James, along with the rest of the circle, paused and began to stare at Kev in unified silence . One eye brow cocked with a half smirk James took a slow sip of his drink and continued to smirk.

As Kev let out a rather loud “you guys are jerks.” Ang put her hand on his knee in mock sympathy.

James continued on about Jackson until he had finished drinking the man’s gift. By this time Tim had returned and the look of relief on his face as he entered through the hallway could not be mistaken.

James
“You know it’s always better when you’ve earned it.”

Tim
“Yeah I suppose I was just a bystander, huh, ass.”

James
“Well I’ll go get one off him for you if it means that much to you, wouldn’t mind paying him a little visit anyway.”

The circle was once again struck by silence only this time there was no smirking to be found.

James
“What?”

More staring…

James
“Have you seen the girls he rolls with, the man’s a magnet.”

Tim
“You guys talkin’ bout Jackson.”

James
“Maybe he’s on to something with the whole metro thing, not my cup of tea personally, but it seems to work with the kids these days, what with their crazy hair styles and angry rap music.”

Grant
“C’mon man, be realistic. Just where you gonna get a pair of cut offs from.”

Tim
“Yeah uh, Jackson’s gay fellers.”

Kim, Ang, Kev and Nicky almost in harmony expressed their delight: “Really”.

After which everybody stopped and curiously stared at Kevin once again.

Nicky
“A little excited are we, Kevin?”

James
“Dude, what is wrong with you tonight?”

Kev
“What?....it’s just...I didn’t mean!…You no what, Fuck you guys!”

And with that he flipped us all off and proceeded to walk out mumbling and grumbling obscenities and what not to himself, as the majority of us struggled to hold a straight face.

He disappeared around the corner only to pop his head back around to ask if anybody wanted anything whilst he was up.

James
“I don’t know man, seems a little suss if you ask me. Who told you that?”

Grant
“I guess you could probably make ‘em, but then you’d ruin a perfectly good pair of jeans.”

Tim
“Does it matter? Trust me, he is.”

Jumping to his feet from the bench, James moved to the doorway and peered into the crowd.

Tim
“Why do you think he brought you the beer man?”

James
“Maybe it’s a ploy.”

Grant
“Unless you bought a cheap pair and make ‘em from that, but if you did that, you might as well buy yourself the real deal, you know.”

Me
“A ploy? What like a scam? Right cause that makes much more sense.”

Grant
“Unless, you bootlegged em from…”

Tim
“God damn it, would yah shut up about the cut offs, I swear I’m gonna bottle you”

Grant just chuckled to himself as he went face first into his beer.

Me
“Who are you even talking to man?”

James
“Well, these days woman are like, stupid and…”

Grant sprung from his stool as I leapt off the counter to meet an advancing Ang and Kim, grabbing and throwing them over the pool table into the shelving across the room.

Oh come on, I kid. I kid, ‘cause I love.

Grant sprung from his stool as I leapt off the counter to meet an advancing Ang and Kim, effectively stopping their attack by a graceful clench around the waist.

Me
“Woah, easy Tiger.”

Grant
“He’s not finished yet.”

Some exaggerated flailing about demonstrated their objections to being held in contempt, however their passion for blood never lasts long and not short after the heat of the moment had died down to but a subtle breeze.

Kim
“Let me go Grant, now.”

Ang pushed my hands off her and re adjusted her composure.

Ang
“Alright, I’m cool.”

Grant released Kim and slowly backed away, hands held open in cautious submission. Kim pointed the blunt end of her empty mud-shake at James and sat back down on her chair.

James
“What I mean is, I have heard that sometimes guys go around saying things like they’re gay or religious or whatever so that woman take to the challenge of changing them, like for sport or sumthan.”

Ang
“Oh, that can’t be true.”

Me
“Actually, yeah come to think of it, I have heard of such a thing.”

Ang
“Yes I’m sure You would have”

Me
“What?! What’s that supposed to mean”

Ang just shrugged her shoulders and ignored the question altogether.

Tim
“Yeah, well Ive heard that every time Jack Nicholson makes love, a pixie fairy dies, but it doesn’t change the fact that that man over there, is gay my friends.”

James
“Bah, I must know the truth.”

Alerted to the sound of a challenge, he darted back to his jacket to retrieve his phone and, I’m guessing, his super secret spy gear.

Nicky
“James, um… why?”

James
“Because the truth will set you free, Nicky”

Nicky seemed slightly confused as to the relevance of his statement.

James
“You do want to be free don’t you?”

Nicky
“Well I guess.”

James
“Well then come gentlemen, we go to freedom!”

And he began to march out of the room.

Me
“Free, James?...Really?”

James
“Like a mother fucking bird!”

And off he went.

Tim
“You think he wants us to go with him?”

Grant
“I’m really not sure it matters at this point”

We left it for a bit and continued with our night, none of us overly concerned about James’s mission or its context. If you had of asked me I would have lied, but on paper I must admit as the night progressed I was slightly intrigued as to how it was all coming along maybe even a little concerned as to how he planned to retrieve the information. But those emotions had been carefully filed, primarily in the back of my mind and as the night unfolded I was distracted more and more from the cause.

As the night rolled on Kev returned from his own adventures. He looked slightly puzzled as he sat down as if pondering something of the greatest importance.

Kev
“Anybody know what the fuck’s up with James?”

Tim
“Why what’s happening?”

Kev
“I don’t know, he’s acting real strange, I walked up to him before and he was trying to convinced some dude to drop his phone and bend over to pick it up or somethan, what’s up with that?”

Grant and I began to laugh.

Tim
“Was Jackson nearby?”

Kev
“Wouldn’t surprise me, he’s been floating around him all night, what’s he doing?”

Tim
“Maybe we should go help him or something.”

Grant
“Shot not”

Tim, Kev ,Ang, Nicky and Kim
“Shot not”

Me
“shot n…argh Damn it”

Fricken anti-shotgun rule!

Me
“Alright fine, I’m going. Anyone coming?”

Grant
“Shot not”

Tim
“Shot not”

Me
“Alright, alright! Forget it.”

Nicky
“Hang on, I kinda wanna see what he’s up to anyway.”

So Nicky and I headed for the kitchen, we grabbed a few fresh drinks and began to track him down, which we eventually did, outside, standing on the top steps, overlooking the backyard real stealth like.

Me
“Any progress?”

James
“Oh dude I’m glad your’re here, you gotta do me this favour, go over there and…”

Me
“I’m not bending over in front of Jackson, James!”

James
“Fine! Hey ,maybe if Nicky were to go over there and…”

James paused mid sentence on account of the evil eye he was receiving from Nicky as she passed him a fresh drink.

James
“Fair enough.”

Nicky
“Soooo what have we learned?”

James
“Not much, there’s a guy down there that it looks like he’s with, but there really isn’t much gayness going on. I’ll never know like this anyway, cause his posse never leaves so I cant be sure if its an act or not. I gotta get him away from em”

Me
“Do you know if he’s seen you tailing him?”

James
“Are you kidding, I’m like the wind baby.”

A truce was signed and we returned back to our seating in the pool room, business returned to the norm and all was good in the hood. Later, during a lengthily debate of what I’m sure was of the greatest importance James pounced from his seat and took off down the hallway. Tim and I rose to our feet in pursuit.

Grant
“Shot not”

Tim
“Shut up, you’re coming”

We followed up the hallway, swerving and weaving through the human traffic only to come to a screaming halt at the front door.

“He’s leaving.” James whispered

Tim
“Why are you whispering, idiot”

James
“Can’t let that happen.”

As he attempted a casual dismount from our little front door meeting, he signalled for us to follow, which we reluctantly did.

James
“Hey Jackson, man you leaving already.”

Jackson
“Yeah, killer party guys, but I’m out. You know how it is.”

James
“C’mon man I still owe you a beer, just stay there and I’ll fetch you one, one for the road, huh, champ.”

Before he could answer James was off, leaving myself, Tim and Grant to hold the fort. It’s kind of hard to explain the atmosphere surrounding this particular part of the night, understand we all knew Jackson and we aren’t the type of people to whom his preference of gender would make any kind of difference. Nevertheless things remained to be noticeably awkward. Mainly, I feel, due to us being wise to James’s prior escapades and the knowledge that Jackson might not be so happy about it.

To ease the tension surrounding our covert orders Tim and I began to fill in the blanks with some small talk as Grant attempted the same.

Grant
“So you like the cock huh? Nice!”

Before you ask, yes he really did say that and yes it was fucking awkward.

We froze in horror, unable to conjure up the words to salvage the moment. Grant however appeared to be under the impression that he had just asked something remotely appropriate like if Jackson likes pineapple or something, from the way he calmly waited for a response. Jackson simply smiled looked at the guy he had come with and without a word they headed back in the house.

Me
“Dude, what the fuck.”

Grant
“What!?”

Me
“What do you mean what?! What the fuck!?”

Grant
“Oh grow up! Would you get offended if I asked you if you like boobs, No! you wouldn’t, you’d be like show me where the boobs at! There is no need to tip toe around it.”

Me
“Shit! Why does that make sense?”

Grant
“Because I am king.”

Tim
“Well, at least he’s back inside”

Grant
“I guess that’s case closed then gentlemen”

Me
“Anybody else notice, Jackson didn’t seem to confide too much in his man friend.”

Grant
“Not really, why? You think James might be on to something?”

Tim
“Pffft, not likely”

Me
“I don’t know, just seemed weird is all.”

Against Grants reassurance, we gave it a little time before heading back in, some avid party goers were providing enough entertainment to kill a few minutes, so there seemed to be no need to rush things.

But as it became apparent that there was no possible way those guys could get the carrot all the way up there, we made our way back inside to find things cruising along quite nicely. James had some how convinced the girls to distract Jackson’s posse enough to get some quality interrogation time, don’t know how he managed that one but nevertheless as we entered there they were carrying out James’s bidding. Jackson shot a quick but noticeable look towards Grant, but other than that there really wasn’t much more said.

Round after round went by and good fun was being had by all. The night was getting late, the drinks were getting few and the conversations were getting deeper.

Unable to answer for sure the question plaguing his mind, James seemed to be taking it rather well, sitting to the side strumming his guitar whilst throwing in the occasional “Will I ever know, oh! Oh…oh, oh! will I ever never knoooow , oh oh” to the melody and then pretending to cry.

I was beginning to feel the need to call it a night , when Grant shuffled over to the counter, which I was now, eyes closed, completely sprawled out upon.

Grant
“Dude, you still with us?”

Me
“I don’t know, you still a dick?”

Grant
“Hey, you’re being funny now, that’s great, listen I’ve got news.”

Me
“You’ve got news? That’s awesome Grant, good luck with that, I hope it all works out for you.”

Grant
“Seriously, listen! Jackson’s not here but he’s still here, you know”

Me
“Uh, huh”

Grant
“You know, he’s here, but not here.”

Me
“………”

Grant
“Like here, here!”

Me
“……..”

Grant

“…….”

Me
“Yeah, dude, I’m not really in the mood for your Zen shit right now so if you could just, you know...!?

Grant
“Idiot, he didn’t leave, but he is not in this room, and MOST of his friends are still in this room!”

Me
“………”

Grant
“Most of them.”

Me
“….Ohhh, right, so go tell James man, why you talking to me for?”

Grant
“I don’t know, I was thinking maybe not. Wouldn’t it be funny if tomorrow when he’s hung over, we tell him he had an opportunity to know but he didn’t see it.”

Me
“Will you stop being such a dick and go tell the man.”

Grant
“But I was thinking…”

Me
“Grant!”

Grant
“Fine.”

Me
“Dick.”

Eyes still closed, I clawed around for something to throw at Tim in case he wanted to intervene. Considering but eventually bypassing a few empty beer bottles and a big glass bowl of something, I settled for a rubber stress ball lying just within arms reach.

Opening to a squint, I flung the projectile as best I could. Luckily for me it miraculously hit its desired target. Tim replied quite vocally at first, but as I pointed to the conversation in the corner, his head swivelled a quick scan of the room before he nodded in approval and leant in for a closer listen.

James
“Are you kidding me, fuck I love you man.”

Throwing his arms around him James landed several big kisses on the top of Grants fragile head.

James
“Mwaaah, Mwaaah, I love this guy”

Grant
“Oh, c’mon man”

James
“Mmmmmwwwwwwaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!”

Though I doubt he was enjoying it as much as he would have liked, Grant made little effort to repel James from his moment of weakness. He just stood limp, arms dropped to the side as if he was a Grant-size, stuffed teddy bear.

James
“You hear me, I love this guy right here!”

As he released him from his kung fu grip, James made a bee line for the door, where I assumed he would be halted by the words of a concerned Tim.

“Go get ‘em Jim.”

Considering prior events I was not expecting that, the whole night I got the feeling Tim didn’t seem to be down with the whole mission, not that any of us were any more than entertained by the whole ideal for that matter. I guess it wasn’t a defining moment, it just seemed strange to me at the time.

As the loud sound of fast paced footsteps tracked over every square inch of the house, Tim smiled at me as he chucked the rubber stress ball back over. When it landed on my chest, I sat back up and launched the rubber squeeze thing once more.

I thought about the night’s events, the secret battle between the unknowing competitor and the seeker of truth and freedom.

Or you know, just some dude stalking another dude for an entire night! But, whatever you want to call it, as of this point, from where I was standing, I couldn’t say for sure what was going on out there, none of us could, really.

Based on tonight’s experiment it was as much possible for Jackson to be the epitome of sodomisers, as it was for a group of teenagers and a semi retarded dog to rock up in a suspicious looking combie van, ripping off Jackson’s mask and revealing him to be Mr Larson, the old janitor from the docks.

“And I would have got away with it to, if it wasn’t for that punk kid James, aarrgghh!”

The footsteps seemed to be scampering back over themselves before stopping all together. After a few seconds, the sound of a man on a mission revived, thumps gradually getting softer until the sound of a screen door being flung open echoed the room.

The intensity of the moment began to rise as those of us lucky enough to still be conscious silently predicted both the contents and the outcome of what was taking place outside.

In many ways James was right, everything did seem a little suss and there was only one way to find out but it was only he who was brave enough to accept the challenge, only he, selfless enough to invade another mans privacy right until the bitter end.

The rubber projectile was crossing the living room for its sixth or seventh time, when the sound of the screen door re-opening froze everything in the room, leaving the rubber ball hovering mid flight over the pool table.

Okay, that’s not physically possible, but the room did seem to be frozen in anticipation.

We all sat, eyes fixed on the entrance from the hallway.

Watching…

Waiting…

When in he walked, white as a ghost, eyes fixated on the floor. Calmly walking, un phased by the obstacles and enquiring eyes in his path he passed the counter on which I was perched upon, Tim lobbed the ball over as he grinningly questioned James.

“So, did you…”

“Yup.”

“ And did he see…”

“Yup.”

“ Wow, that must have…”

“Yup.”

Tim then began a valiant effort to fight back his impending joy.

James without even glimpsing up, made his way to the living room wall, leant his back against it and let his legs slowly give out from under him.

“So, a ploy, huh, James?”

I asked as I lobbed the stress ball into his lap,

“Nope! Definitely not a ploy!”

“So when you…”

“Yup”

“He was…”

“yup”

“Wow, that must have…”

“Yup”

“……”

“…….”

“Do you wanna talk…”

“Nope, not ever”

“Are you…”

“NOT EVER!!”

I guess, it’s like I said, in many ways James was right! But then in many, much more accurate ways he was completely wrong, much to the delight of everyone else

Special Thanks to Kim

Marching Orders

2008-07-22T22:37:00.000-07:00

One afternoon I found myself killing time on the quite streets of western Sydney, I wasn’t lost nor did I know where I was going, I was merely floating, hovering if you will, in and out of the side streets and donut shops of the town with every cinnamon fix waiting for a further moments entertainment on what was turning out to be the dullest Friday afternoon to date.

From a distance I could see a change in pattern of the style in which people were walking some 100 yards ahead. At first all would be as expected, when slowly the stepping pattern would slightly alter and the tempo of which the arms were swung would increase, of course to what effect was strictly on a case by case basis however there was no mistaking as people strolled past going about their daily business, the rhythm in which they would do so was dramatically changing and then changing back within the space of a few square meters. Almost as if stepping through an invisible force field of funk, to which all who enter are un knowingly, un willingly forced to bust a move as if in a Coca Cola commercial, only to cease immediately upon re entry to the human realm as if nothing had happened at all.

This pleased me. I stood and observed for awhile wondering if this was actually happening or whether there was a little something extra in my donut. I walked closer and found that I too was succumbing to this phenomena of soul and as I entered this new world to my surprise found the source to be a short homeless man, noticeably old but the years had served him well. He was wearing an old grey suit which was stained and the stitching was coming undone from the seams on his left shoulder. His weapon of choice was an old wooden guitar and a voice which seemed unfitting from the body it was coming from.

I stood for awhile longer trying to look casual by leaning against a near by Streetlight smiling and bobbing away to the performance at hand when I noticed as people passed by, they would drop coins, notes or cigarettes in a case sitting half a meter away from the man. Confused I looked at him as he stopped what he was playing to lean over and retrieve one of the cigarettes that had been given to him. He stared back inquisitively as he sparked one up, as I continued to linger in thought over the situation.

“So you’re a beggar then”

He looked up at me with a smile, smoke almost covering his face as he chuckled to himself

“No son, I aint no beggar”

The look on his face explained that he was well aware of how this confused me so.

“Im a busker kid, I put on a show and if you like what im doing you can contribute, or not, there’s no pressure”

Taking my support off the street light I walked towards the case reaching into my pocket and pulling out my last five dollar note and placing it inside the case.
He nodded in approval and began to play again. I stood some more watching what was happening I had seen it before but not like this, he was actually…well…good.

“They call me River”

“River?!”

“yes sir, River Casey, the rivercat of Nepean and Im pleased to make your acquaintance”

“River Cat Casey huh”

“that’s right, and now that we are friends, why don’t you come around this corner here, Ive got something to show you.”

Ha, no I’m lying! River was o.k.

As young as I was, I still remember pondering just what the hell kind of name is that. I had asked him later on and he used to just sit with a smile, saying “my parents were hippies”, as a youngster this of course made no sense, but you’ll be happy to know that I am now fully aware that mama and papa River showed their loving support to the earth by rolling her up and smoking her.

God damn it hippies give the worst names, they really should be banned, both hippies and celebrities. I mean River seemed almost fitting for the man now, but as a kid? I don’t think so. I dare say they pretty much decided his future right there and then. I’m not doubting the parenting skills or anything like that but you name your kid Nigel, odds are your not looking down the barrel of a winner. God only knows what’s going to happen to poor Apple. I fear that senator Apple may not get a fair go. However I can’t say I blame em, how can anyone listen to a word anyone says when all you can do is think of pie, I do love pie though, mmm mmm sweet senator pie.

It’s odd to think about, how one single cinnamon influenced afternoon could make such a difference. Some time passed and I was honestly captivated by the atmosphere. River had it down, cover to cover and I learnt a lot through it. He installed a passion for music in me through which he taught me not just how to play and sing but how to entertain, that even the lowliest of person could be the object of peoples affection, if only for a glimpse.

For sometime I would return to Rivers spot 3,4 sometimes 5 times a week throwing in what money I could spare and jamming along with my gifted but kinda funky smelling friend.

I met many different types of people, from all different backgrounds and ideas at that spot, there was really only one purpose to anyone who intentionally showed up, But it was interesting to see in the different manners of which people would go about it, some would get jiggy with it, right there in an extremely extravagant display, others would show their support by throwing in some supplies and standing off to the side nodding away and simply agreeing with the show. And there was also others who might grab a guitar or some bongos and join in.

But there were others, some would attempt to dictate the pace requesting songs without ever throwing in to contribute, announcing how they do it and demanding we do the same, Ideally they were their in support but to me they had know business or authority to be demanding anything. But old River cared not, he would just throw me a glance with that smirk of his and calmly oblige to whatever request, it didn’t matter to him that it was a different thing every week or even that some things contradicted the prior demands. Even as a youngster I questioned the importance of these people, but River was the boss and I would do my best to comply.

8 years passed almost to the day, and things had un noticeably changed, I realise now that when things slowly change over a period of time, it is almost impossible to detect.

The imperial finger of blame had been directed at me by many, both friends and acquaintances alike, sadly I wish I could agree, for then I could have analysed and changed accordingly, for truth be told I loved what I was doing. Unfortunately this was not the case, I could not agree, honestly in my opinion, I simply just grew up.

I began to notice little differences at first, Rivers clothes began to get nicer and nicer which, you know, is a good thing but with it, that sweet, wise old man was beginning to become a young, egotistical business man, if that makes sense. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, only the way he began to deal with situations and people had gotten to be almost disturbing and indecent. Understand that it may not have seemed so bad coming from some jerk in the office, but this was River, my beacon of light, the sign that there is still good in this world yet.

Another thing that I didn’t see until it was to late was the regular attendees seemed to be over run with the people not there to support River but to control and manipulate him, and me for that matter, to suit there own agendas. Between the arguments came the silent confrontations. Hidden smirks and pre meditated fights, said assailants would begin to pressure me and bait me, to which I would react quite irrationally only for River to scorn me, whilst standing in plain view as River did so they would stand smiling and winking satisfied in there deceit. Not even 90210 or Passions can prepare you for that kind of ordeal.

Then the days came when River stopped showing up altogether, I would cover him gladly though it was beginning to become remorsefully, only for River to show up later on to collect the earnings.

I never once took a cent from that guitar case, it wasn’t mine to take. I loved playing alongside and for him, I loved most of the people that were involved in his streetlight production and I really respected and trusted River enough to be there for him despite the circumstances.

None of these things made much of a difference to me. Don’t get me wrong, they sucked, Hard! But they were never enough for me to walk away. The kicker was River began to stop talking to me. In the old days we would sit and chat, he’d tell me bout his crazy stories and I’d ask him if he thought Mary had cooties or not. River was more than a friend to me, River was family and the growing distance, made the whole musical service seem pointless and time waisting.

To make matters worse, I began to need times for study, times when my job or girlfriend came first, River always proclaimed he understood but as I was unable to be there 5 times a week anymore tension was beginning to surface.

It got to the point where I would arrive, play, throw some cash into the pot and be on my way without even a single positive look from River, he would accuse me of lying about where I was and not contributing as much as before both money and time wise, seemingly unaware that I was in fact, volunteering my support, services and finances.

Here say and slanderess gossip began to flow between River and these others whom I’d had contested. Rumours of me undercutting River, reached his ears and by this point he did not speak to me at all. Never once did he ask me if there was truth in their words. Ironically I had always assumed that if he believed it he would ask me, and he was under the belief that if it wasn’t true I would come say something (assuming that I knew.)

And then one day, he spoke. I’d almost forgotten what he sounded like.

I was early that day, because I couldn’t stay too long. I assumed that’s why he was there, I figured he wasn’t expecting me so early as an explanation for his rare appearance. I through a look over to him as a replacement of saying hi, but he seemed to be busy with whatever. Case flipped open I assumed the position and began to tune.

“I wouldn’t make yourself to comfortable kid, you and me gotta talk”

I lifted my head to find River standing over me, with business written all over his now well shaven face.

“This here, what we’re doing, it’s finished o.k! You’re out. you have no place here anymore”

He didn’t wait for a rebuttal, almost immediately he turned and began to walk away.

“Are you kidding me, I told you I can’t make it Sundays anymore! and you know damn well why.

River was all business now and continued to walk away with out any acknowledgement.

“it doesn’t have to end like this River, you owe me more than this”

His head dropped as he stopped walking.

“its nothing personal, but I got rules now, its just how it is”

“Personal! Not personal, Ive come back here for 8 years River, ive given you my time and my money, I put this before my career and even my girlfriend. Ive stuck through 3 years of complete bullshit just so you can turn around and say the place that I have earnt is no longer mine, and you wanna tell me its not personal”

“this was inevitable, you know that. Right from the start you were never gonna be like us, and now it’s like you act like your always annoyed or angry. Just seems like you don’t wanna be here anymore”

Both of our voices were beginning to escalate, as two years of built up aggression was finally seeing the light of day.

“of course I don’t seem happy, you treat me like shit River. All I ever wanted to do was be a part of this and you haven’t spoken to me in months, you learn every bit of information from your dick head groupies and cut me off every chance you get, and yet I stayed like an idiot, hoping that just Fucking once, someone could see the reason that I’m still here.”

“You act like you make the rules here, but you don’t. This is my game, not yours and your part in all of this is over”

“Rules, since when has anything we do here represent your legalistic declarations created off the bat of your own egotistical, manipulated mind! and would you mind telling me just what the hell has that to do with anything, just what the hell is all this about?”

“YOU!!! IT’S ABOUT YOU, O.K”

And then there was silence.

The loudest silence I have ever witnessed. The best I could do was stare blankly at him, I had never heard River scream like that before.

After a few deep breaths, he re adjusted his composure and returned to a normal volume.

“Its you kid, I hate it but it’s you, everything you’ve done here, everything! its erased by every problem that you being here has created. Your fault or not, you gone means problems gone.”

“River, you cant mean that, your…your selling me out.”

“enough o.k, just let it go. You need to be a man about this now, you just don’t belong here.”

“8 years and this is how it ends? There is no coming back from this you know, this changes everything.”

“Coming back? I think we both know you ain’t ever coming back”

No goodbyes and no apologies. Just like that, it was over. I placed my guitar inside her case, as River turned his back for the very last time. I began to walk, where? I did not know, I was merely floating, hovering if you will, in and out of the boardwalks and Starbucks’s of Sydney’s westend.

1999 – 2007

14 – 22,

Such was my time at that corner. The now concreted pavement, that was once my home away from home, remains nothing more than the worlds education to a somewhat naïve kid.

From that very spot, I have seen businesses go up and businesses go under, constant renovations and technology advancements. I sore people change, change back and change again and yet as I turned to gaze back, it had seemed as if only a moment had passed since that day all those years ago.

I wished it all had been just that, a moment, a glimpse, just a bad trip from an otherwise delicious cinnamon experience.

I glared expectantly into my reflection off a nearby shop window, hoping for that 14 year old kid to be staring right back at me, wishing I could warn him, hoping I could stop him. But no matter how many times I clicked my heels, the only one staring back at me was this unimpressed, bitter man.

I could see the distrusting nature in his eyes, the burning anger of his waisted years. He shrugged at me and I shrugged back, I asked what had happened and he kicked me in the crutch.

I hobbled down the busy boardwalks of Sydneys west, I wasn’t lost, nor did I know where I was headed, shuffling in and out of the department stores and Starbucks’s, with every 5 syllable beverage, becoming more and more high to its blend. Only one thought, only one ambition circulating through my mind.

“God, I wish I had another Donut, hot damn that would be sweet.”

It's where it's at!

2008-06-23T23:40:00.000-07:00

Well, Its been a while and things have changed, quite substantially as a matter of fact.
Consequently in the heat of everything my Blog has been talking some serious shit about me to all his other Blog buddies.

”bitch bitch, moan moan", whatever. Turns out my blog is a bit of a girl and surprisingly sexist for that matter, for reasons that remain inconclusive. So, in light of my blogs apparent feelings of neglect and abuse, allegedly an explanation was in order.

I believe at some point I realised there is so much more to life then simply putting up with, ultimately un important shit from ultimately, un important people. Granted there were some, and they are few, that I retain the utmost respect and affection for, but to you I would ask just how much more was I suppose to take? In the grand scheme of things the whole operation simply wasn’t worth my time anymore and if you didn’t see that! then it is more than probable that you yourself are one of the many ignorant dickheads whom I’ve come to understand just might be the stupidest people to have ever lived.

Seriously, there should be laws to stop you from reproducing, I fear for your children!

In my weaker moments I can’t help but feel that maybe I was a little to trusting for my own good. To not only believe in the cause but believe in the people was clearly the basis of my downfall. It’s quite a harsh reality to face when you look back over the years and realise the time you have waisted, upon reflection the best I can do is bury my head in my hands that I could have been so naive.

About 10 months back I quit my job, it wasn't a big deal I didnt love the place nor did I scheme for its demise, to me working there was more of a stepping stone more than anything, a stone which served its purpose extremely well! or so I thought. A stepping stone as it were, but it aloud me to do certain extra curriculum activities, as the workload was kind of a joke. Actually it was kind of an in joke on account that the only people who knew, kept quite so the people who pay the bills continued to pay up.

so like I said as the pay checks came through, I was able to perform various tasks like, this Blog, Balance my check book, do my taxes, do the taxes of a small republican cotenant and raise a small Albanian boy in a giant bubble whilst all the while the workload is being completed, no one’s the wiser and everybody remains happy, exept for Guan, that boy was always sad.

Naturally when I decided to pull the plug after an impressive Job offer, all these things took a major hit, I lost time to write and had to focus on the new job at hand. Truth be told this has become quite difficult for me to handle. To me writing has just been something I did in between life, so to speak. Understand I love to write but I am very much aware of my talents in comparrison to an actual writer, and it pales, oh how it pales!

Either way between this blog and the Novel I've been trying to pump out, when the change in business structure came, I had to allocate times, sacrificing social events and numerous cock fights to allow time for a bit of pen to paper action for the first time in, well...ever.

You know I really wanted that rattle, I pushed, I conquered and I took that rattle as if its very creation was for no other purpose then thine, and now, I sit, motionless, grasping the oddly provocative shaped plastic, wondering just what it might be like if that kids oversized plastic keys were mine.

I've always been a sucker for the over dramatic, impulsiveness is kind of my thing. Ironically though, I purposely went against my instincts and chose the sensible smart alternative which in turn revealed itself to be in sink with pretty much every impulsive and reckless decision I have made up to this point.

I crunch numbers, it’s what I do. In little but not to much more detail, I justify the companies forecasts taking, adding and hiding the losses from every transaction in and out of the company, kind of a less dignified spin doctor for the monthly auditors.

But in that lies the problem

I have recently discovered I don’t like crunching numbers, in fact I would go as far to say, I hate crunching numbers and it has only just now dawned on me that the career ive created for myself is pretty much exactly that!

Frick!

So now 23 years to the day I am royally fucked! for any possible outcome that I can conceive leaves a person I care a great deal about, up the creek with no paddle, no canoe and no pants.

You see in the red corner we have weighing in at a quite substantial amount of money, Flex days, minimal stress levels and a sturdy living, selling out to the man, the FO.

And in the blue corner weighing at an incredible poverty rating, sniffing paint & following his dreams bar the consequences, he’s smart, he’s intelligent he’s sleeping in a cardboard box. The uni student.

Convenience is the real villain here, I know what I want! But like many people I have grown accustom to a certain standard of living, I like my caviar served out of a woman’s stiletto and so I fear the way of the student will be some what unable to cater for such a desire.

Despite the fact that I am no longer a 19 year old strapping buck anymore with a pocket full of dreams and an age to carry them out, there is also the fact that I know me, I know what happens when I get an Idea in my head, I shoot for it but when I get a newer Idea contradictive of the new idea (which has now become the old idea), the old Idea (formally the new idea) becomes obsolete and the newer idea (or newest idea) is thus forth the future as I know it. Long story short I cant help myself.

The windows of opportunity are getting smaller and smaller with every day. I’m not saying that there is no other alternative once you select your path, merely pointing out that nobody wants to be the guy who is a 70 year old office junior attempting to make a better life for himself, despite the fact its almost over.

So here is my dilemma, I purposely chose a sturdy career to build some stability, the future looks bland, safe but bland. I can travel, afford pretty things and know that I’m pretty set from this day forth, but there is a catch, at the risk of sounding ungrateful. I fear I may end up as some corporate zombie slaving away for the rest of my days in a job I strongly dislike. I told myself that I can suck it up from 9:00 to 5:00 for 5 days if it meant healthy rewards but as it turns out, yeah I don’t know if I wanna do that.

To make a confusing matter worse, I took this analogy to the higher powers at my work, stating I wish to go back to college and study more to which they intervened that they would pay for me to return to Uni, part time in the field of their choosing.

If ever I was handed a poison apple, that was it. It’s my fault really, I left the part out where I wished to study in a more abrupt field such as journalism or history, something away from the mind numbing, I wanna shoot you and everyone you care about spreadsheets.

So the choice has been handed down, time is running short and I have no idea what I’m gonna do and any attempt at seeking outside advice has been met with the same reaction.

“oh poor me, I got a stable job and a stable life, can’t a guy catch a break”

Which gets a little frustrating after a while, I suppose I want to believe that some people aren’t made for stable, that some are made for phenomenal and as long as phenomenal is around stable ain’t never going to cut it, although that is the very heights of my optimism I none the less hope and maybe in a way hope against its truth.

I am well aware that In the eye of the beholder it may not be the worst of problems to have but it’s still a pretty big deal for me right now.

So there it is.

Stay or Leave?

Confucius say: you are Fucked!

Harshest Call to Date:

2007-11-15T17:56:00.000-08:00

: Grant to Steven, after Steven apologises to Grant for unnecessarily lashing out:

Steven
"Dude I'm sorry, I’m just a little edgy at the moment. I gotta go to my sisters soon, she was 3 months and well she lost the baby, it’s been pretty tough."

Grant
"Oh that sucks man, and you just know it'll be in the last place she looks!"

FYI 5 seconds later Grant got socked right in the mouth!

The White Power Ranger

2007-08-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

The "White Power" Ranger Harmless kids hero or urban folk legend for the KKK.

T.V writers really should be more careful with their wording.

The Red Power Ranger
"Oh God we are completely surrounded"

The Pink Power Ranger
"oh red ranger it seems being on the brink of extinction is what I needed to realise how much I...tear"

The Red Power Ranger
"Yes... (in anticipation)"

The Pink Power Ranger
"How much I..I lov..."

The Blue Power Ranger
"Look its the "White Power" Ranger"

The White Power Ranger
"Fear not my fellow Comrades. I the "White Power" ranger have come to protect you. No longer need you fear the evils that have come, for when we band together we are strong."

The African American Power Ranger
"Fa shizzle white rizzle"

The Pink Power Ranger
"My Hero"

10 mins of hardcore Kung Fu Acrobatics

The White Power Ranger
"Pink Ranger, darling (slightly out of breath). It seems dealing this brutal ass pounding has made me realise how much I love You"

The Pink Power Ranger
"Oh I love you too "White Power" Ranger. Your so strong and not at all naive in your ways".

The Red Power Ranger
"Fuck this is bull shit!!"

The African American Power Ranger
"Fa Shizzle my Red nizzle"

Voicemail on my mobile read missed call private number, for starters that shits me, takes the power right out of your hands doesn't it, you know someone needs to contact you but you are ultimately helpless to comply. That and the fact some random jack ass seems to believe their famous enough to make their number exclusive to the public, the whole don't call me I'll call you comes to mind and a small part of me dies inside every time it happens.

To Private numbers Australia says NO

But that's neither here nor there, soon after they called again and revealed that my secret admirer was actually my cousin. Long Time ago we used to be close but after a slight family altercation I hadn't seen any of my fathers side of the family in years. Again neither here, there or anywhere.

I had heard through the grape vine she had had her second child and reflecting on it, it was only a matter of time before I got the call. I stuttered and bumbled my way through the weak excuse of why I hadn't come to catch up and see her children but it was pretty clear that it was the result of extreme dickheadness and my involvement in that area. To her credit there was no hint of abuse and she was cheer full to extend a +1 invite to her humble establishment.

Events later that week found a detour picking up the missus, a stuffed teddy bear and I swear the biggest cheesecake I have ever seen. a few wrong turns and a slight awkwardness upon our arrival showed exactly how long it had been since I had made the trip. Dinner found the weirdness quickly disappearing and by dessert laughing and reminiscing like children as we devoured the monstrous cake which I'm sure was conceived in some form of swimming pool. Though family dinners and others of the sort always portray as some kind of chore, it was nice to see her again.

Eventually we were interrupted by the sleeping infant in the other room at which point I remembered that I had left the stuffed toy in the car. Retrieving the animal I returned to the house when suddenly I heard something that I had not heard in what had seemed to be an eternity, it was the yelling of several prehistoric creatures, one after the other.

Slowly I walked into the room amused to no end, finding my cousins first born offspring quietly watching the adventures of the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. I too was once age deprived and had often indulged in the viewing of the Rangers and their mightiness and was thrilled at the opportunity to do so once more. As I sat down to watch I began to notice something that I did not realise before.

Whilst enjoying the first class acting and intense storyline of it all some bad guys needed a whoopin and it was indeed Morphin time. First two guys - Red and Blue (No big deal right) white dude-white ranger (nothing suss there) , Feminine female chick - pink ranger (no surprises), token black guy- black ranger(????) Asian chick- Yellow Ranger(what??)

is it just me or does that strike anyone else as a little odd.

Bonus points for the multiculturalism of the show but was it entirely necessary to keep it like that even with their suits on? purple, gold, orange. nope we are gonna go with yellow people, I wonder if they hesitated at all.

Creator
o.k you ,your the white Ranger you uuhh blue! o.k and you two your black and yellow and you.........whats that?....huh....what do you mean do I think its a good idea to make her the yellow ranger, pull your head out of your ass and do some work will yah!I aint got time for your shit.

Perhaps un intentional, maybe overlooked or even the show existed before all that political correctness BS was around, nevertheless as I humorously accepted this new revelation it did slightly occur to me that to the right group of people it may appear to be somewhat offensive, maybe just a little.

I know its just a kids show but man if I was of oriental descent, Id be pissed ,I would so wanna Jackie Chan someones ass. Even the black ranger is pushing it in this day and age where you have to call a black board a chalk board because of the fragile ears we have developed. I suppose they could have gone all out and made the red ranger an Indian American named Running Bear or something but that would just be tasteless.

I guess it will go down as one of life's great mystery's as to how and why it even happened and Id be lying if I said I didn't find it ridiculously amusing however offensive it may be but some insight came As I shot a glance at my cousins youngling and found a slight comfort in the fact they he instead of enjoying the tasteless humour of his fellow viewer, he was merely enjoying the high tensile action that is the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.

my basic overview, however controversial it may be it still is just a kids show. its quite possible its mealy the result of our politically correct minds rather than white supremacist propaganda designed to sublimely brain wash the young and the nerdy. Ive been wrong before but that's pretty much were I'm gonna stand in this important matter of congress. To those who feel the need to protest the vile injustice that is the root of there morphing powers maybe for your sanity you might want to consider the old saying of "Build a bridge and punch yourself in the fucking mouth."

For me though the hardest hurdle to get over was trying to explain to my better half why instead of joining them with the adults I was in the lounge room curled up with a teddy bear watching power rangers...the jokes that followed were both emotionally and physically crippling.... agreed not some of my best form.

Red Power Ranger
"Fuck this is bull shit!!"

African American Power Ranger
"Fa shizzle my Red nizzle"

You ever get the feeling God doesnt like you?

2007-08-03T22:15:00.000-07:00

Normally I try to shy away from this particular type of post and even talking about it at all really, the way I see it there is not a living breathing soul that has not been let down, broken or had there heart stomped on and though there is comfort found in the consolidation in others, in the end the more you talk about it the longer the situation lingers and the angrier you get... However having encountered such an astonishing sight recently, I couldn't help but write about it.

It starts with yours truly once again finding myself ducking and weaving the consequences of what seems to be my previous life. Stubbornly remaining in a place where integrity is disintegrated by a few well placed lies, watching in utter dis belief and disgust as situations and the people involved are manipulated right before my very eyes over and over again.

Completely defeated by an opponent much more skilled then I in the ways of deception and dishonesty. learning with every new day that the guilty need only cry on the stand for false validation. Justice it would seem is only for those who would play the game.

I quicken my pace to the door watched by those who know but Ignore to keep peace whilst the ignorant judge from behind a smile and out stretched hand. no sourer taste is left in ones mouth than being crushed for holding ones end of the deal and no feeling harder to control than that of vengeance.

Being some what of a God fearing man or at the very least aware of his existence I began to way up the situation and question its importance. Was it all part of a plan, some Divine intervention shit or was it all just a major fuck up. Is there some lesson to be learnt here or had even the almighty bought into the Bull shit advertised. As theory's of insight came and went an argument within myself forged resulting in asking nay demanding for a sign an update if you will, of Gods current status in it all.

With that, in that very moment the sky began to move, slowly at first but then began to merge in a circular motion not knowing what to make of it all I reached for a my camera and began snapping away, content in the fact that my answer was indeed at hand. shapes and curves forming and disappearing moulding a message, my message, my Revelation of reason and insight of events to come displayed boldly in the sky. at last the higher powers had intervened.

No words can describe the horrifying numbness felt when in one single, biblical moment all that has occurred finally made sense.

(sigh) well that definitely makes a lot of sense.

Thems the Rules

2007-06-25T18:18:00.000-07:00

There are a few traditions in my circle of friends, last to be blind pays for the taxi, all new members are to be taunted and ridiculed with out compassion, sexual or racial consent for two weeks and of course NO tag backs off a double play at anytime EVER!!!

But no greater commandment given unto us than thou shalt not mingle with thine other gender on thow Thursday night... for Thursday was poker night. Beer, cigars, gambling, boob talk the whole kitten kaboodle at least for the guys that is. We have never really known what the girls get up to, we can only assume the obvious that their nights consist of intense political and sociological tea party's and high action pillow fighting in there underwear. Although we have no evidence of this all signs of common sense and relative thinking point to no other possible conclusion.

Whatever the case come Thursday we split, all contacts with the opposite sex are to be crushed up , mixed with a combination of fruit, yogurt, milk and ice cream, Blended into a delicious tropical smoothie and disposed of accordingly! no buts, thems the rules

Now these nights are held in random locations thus to prevent any assault from the enemy, kind of a default setting to the protection of our rights as men. Each of us sworn to secrecy under penalty of kitchen wench detail, one night in particular was held at kev's house, now we normally kick of at 9:00 so as 9:15 rolled along and the chips and cards had not been dealt some of the guys seemed to be getting a little rowdy I on the other hand was not really paying attention for I have spent the better half of our guy nights trying to seduce Kev into at least experimenting with cigars. The guy’s a former athlete so he's all your body is a temple and quite stubborn in the matter I might add and so over the time that I’ve known him its become a personnel goal for some of us to save Kev from being such a bitch.

So as I was subtly Suggesting to Kev that perhaps he might feel a little more comfortable at the girls softcore tea party nights the phone rang to which Kev answered but not before subtly back handing me upside the back of the head. So who was that? to which he answered "the wife". Silence struck the room with all the cautiousness of a marching band. w..w..why would she be calling? a question to which the answer I must admit I knew, I think in a way we all knew. I think all men know when the moment make itself known.

Kev turned his head and struck a pose in a true days of our lives fashion, one eyebrow cocked. "because their coming!"… camera zooms in on his face! then zooms out from a close up of us! then zooms back in on Kevs face and holds for about three seconds to long, annnnd cut! end scene, go to commercial.

us
but....but its Thursday and the rules! what about the rules man, did you even think about the rules! I don’t think your thinking about the rules!
kev
I know about the rules o.k, I was there when they were forged.
us
This cannot happen
kev
well you do something then, I ain't sleeping on the couch tonight
me
Bitch, smoke the dam cigar!!

I am no coward but there was wisdom in his words, for we all knew the repercussions of standing in between these girls and there intentions. As strong a man as you may think you are, you do not want to unleash this upon your world! no sir these girls do not play by the general rules of engagement hair pulling, slapping, biting, scratching are all part of the repertoire, they may look pretty and petite but make no mistake there will be no hesitation as to removing your head from your shoulders

As the numerous theories and ideas of how to stop this from happening were being forwarded the sound of cars pulling up had the same impact as that of gun shots and with giggles and screams burst through the door to find us stunned like squirrels in the high beam hypnotised by the beauty yet slightly aware of the events to come, however it didn't stop us from attempting to act casual and play it cool.
me
hey yah guys fancy seeing you here?
Angela
oh I know we just decided it might be fun to play poker with you guys tonight
me
oh yeah that would be fun wouldn't it guys mmhhmm but you see we don't have enough chips and we'd be here all night with this many people, its a shame its a.. a dam shame.
Angela
What’s the matter baby gotta be home to mommy before bedtime or you just to scared to lose to girls.
me
yes mummy will be very upset but its Thursday and we have rules, all of us do and who are we to break them. It…it just wouldn't be lawful besides its poker
Angela
what the hell are you babbling about? I know the rules, wait what do you mean its poker are you trying to say woman are.....blah blah blah........you jerk ......blah blah.......sexist pig....Blah.... i can be twice the man you are......Blah......why don't you go fu...
me
I'm out

and with that I retreated to the fridge to drink my stupidity away and think about what I'd done. all eyes shot to Kev he was not prepared and obviously disturbed by being in the whole situation.
Kev
Baby I love you but how would you like it if we invited ourselves to whatever you girls were doing on a Thursday. you wouldn't like it
Angela
of course we wouldn't mind kevin don't be ridiculous

evidently kicking down their door in our underwear, pillows blazing is now a perfectly acceptable practice knock.....knock.....knock hey girls we just decided it would be fun.

At the risk of boring you I wont continue to describe every conversation from that night but I Will say we yelled, we laughed and we cried, there was a cheeky leprechaun and Kev never tried the cigar.

Needless to say the girls got there way guys night was cancelled and we ended up going out instead. All in all it wasn't a bad night, it never really is. They never told us why they decided to reign upon our guys night and our manhood but I guess the lesson I learnt is guys care much more about guys night then girls care about girls night or girls care about guys night or girls care about basically anything we got going on.

Not sure why but I'm a male so I guess I'm not suppose to know. There were plans for revenge but by the next week we lacked motivation although due to increasing paranoia and the very possibility that it could happen again security has kicked up a notch. all poker nights are held in a cave behind a book case, down the poles in between the batmobile and the big ass t.v screen

the enviro what?

2007-06-12T22:42:00.000-07:00

It isn't often that I leave a conversation feeling as if all occupants would have been better off had I just been smart enough to point to an obvious distraction and do the bunny, leaving the assailant and my dignity in a binding state of confusion and disbelief.

Just as Jesus said "be the bigger man, leg it for the greater good".

Lately in between work hours ive found myself enjoying the scenery of Hyde park followed by a stroll through Martin place. At the risk of sounding a little new age I somehow find it relaxing, not sensual or anything weird like that but as far as stress relief from earning another dollar for the man a stroll around the city always comes up trumps. That is, right up until you reach the Villa. aah the Villa, where would we be without you?

The Villa is what some of us like to call that little section in the middle of the main courtyard where every foundation known on God's green earth congregates together in order to trap unexpected prey into signing away whatever money can be scrounged up. On a good day there may only be 1 or 2 in which if your quick and avoid all forms of eye contact you may just make it to your lunch appointment. however on the big days its all systems go, booths lined up like the cavalry. Forcing patrons into an un avoidable bottle neck, herding us like sheep dogs into our gate to face certain guilt and time deprivation. There can be no escape.

After my scheduled hike through Sydney's best I hit the villa at a fairly hesitant pace, being on the brink of a long weekend the thought had crossed my mind of the danger ahead, however being somewhat of a lazy nature I decided against the detour and headed straight for it. MISTAKE. I was immediately drawn to the error of my ways as I followed the crowd into the red zone to find the Villa in full flight. a terrified shriek "Oh Dear God No" from the left of the crowd sent us Turning back in desperation for an escape but it was to late, the damage was done, we never had a chance.

Maneuvering my way in and out of the civilian traffic I found myself completely surrounded with no where to hide. To the left Drug awareness for kids. To the right, Kids off the street. Behind me, aids off the kids and Up ahead, Helping Aids of the streets through cancer, drugs and other Kid related practices.

Now joined by what was left of the panic stricken crowd, common courtesy and street etiquette went flying out the window. Charlie had the drop on us and it was every man, woman and child for themselves. Side stepping my way through the chaos, a faint sign of light began to appear to the rear of the pack. Darting directly for it, I was stopped in my tracks by a seemingly familiar voice.

"Oh hey man"

Naturally I stopped to greet who I could only presume to be a long lost relative or childhood friend with whom contact was at some point lost in the translation. So I turned only to see a man in which I had absolutely no recollection of standing tall in a green sports shirt holding a clipboard in one hand and my gullibility in the other. Oh you sneaky son of a bitch. got me with the old meet and greet, bastard.

"you got a couple of minutes to talk about the environment"

"well actually man I gotta take off i have to..."

"you know us humans have really done a number on this earth"

"yeah your right were all assholes, look I'm real sorry but i have to..."

"did you know that...

The next 10 mins consisted of an un interuptable speech on global warming, pollution, the weather changes and all sorts of fun facts about how the environment is gonna hand our asses to us. To which I smiled and nodded away, filling in the occasional "really" and "oh thats crazy".

"so you see if we don't stop it now were gonna lose this earth man"

"We??... as in you and me??"

"yes us man we can all do our part you do your part so we can do ours"

"uh huh and my part would be...?"

"just donate whatever you can or sign up for weekly payments so we can save this world"

"fair enough, but I'm not really big on signing contracts on the street and to be honest um I'm not real sure about the whole, you know how this should concern uh me.."

"what!? dude in say the next 100 years the ozone layer could be completely gone if we don't stop this"

"But wont I be dead by then"

"well I guess"

"so isn't that like my great grand kids problem"

He stopped and stared right at me almost paralyzed with disgust. Eyes burning with passionate anger. I was kinda surprised that he didn't take a shot at me with his clipboard from the look on his face. I mean he was pissed

"you know what its cause of jerks like you that we are all in this mess. go on piss off and wait for the storm then we'll see, then what are you gonna do."

"sorry dude I just don't think that..."

"Yeah I know what you think. you think that putting your can in the recycling is your contribution! well good on you! thanks for the aluminium now the rest of us are trying to keep this earth going"

"but.."

" just get lost I have no time for people like you. Go! do nothing! and hope we fix the problem. then you'll see"

I began to back peddle away slowly, feeling a little embarrassed about being served by Green peace. Now that man right there, he really loves his earth, how harsh was that.

He did however get me thinking, eventually somethings gotta give right? at some point the universe is gonna get fed up with our shit and retaliate and there can be no doubt that when mother nature and father time finally do have it out in the ultimate free for all cage match, the battle will be nothing short of spectacular.

I can only imagine the intensity as mother nature leaps from the top cage onto a seemingly un conscious big daddy time for the clincher only to find the patented and all but expected switch involving a sudden, super human burst of energy and the likes of a folding chair sending mother nature out of the cage and into the waiting glove of a hope filled youngster... going going gone...and she is outer here. Unfortunately good old father time is crippled with age by shear definition and suffers a stroke from all the excitement. fancy that, nobody wins...we all lose.

Be that as it may I still find myself reluctant to give a shit. Its not like I don't wanna care, I just don't and the very idea that I was not concerned about a situation as big as this left me in quite an uncomfortable mind set, I was actually a little disappointed in myself, is that even possible, apparently so, Dam Villa.

I guess from my perspective I just can't. Aside from living in the present where technology and ignorance run rampid, honestly for all that Hippies work on the street it isn't doing anything other than what is already being done. We have had the technology to use ulterior fuels for sometime but have been kept at bay by greedy oil companies and as far as I know Australia signed that Minimum pollution agreement last year so what do you want from little old me? The ozone isn't gonna repair itself and even if we could stop all pollution who would want to? O.k kids, big news! your mother and I have decided to move into a cave, ride horses to work (that one actually doesn't seem so bad), use no chemicals and live of our own kill? a beautiful dream but I have a feeling people like being comfortable and would sooner make sweet sweet love to the very clouds of pollution destroying our atmosphere than spend another day without Transportation, beauty products and TiVo.

However say there is an answer. Say there is something we have missed, the answer to our environmental issues who's to say our good friends in North Korea wont get ansi and send a nuke our way, who is gonna think twice about the environment then? you?? I think not, the only thing on your mind will be payback school boy style and you know it. there is a lot of big boys with a lot of big toys out there, I think us humans are perfectly capable of destroying our earth without any help from nature thank you very much.

This message of hope was brought to you by the letter L

In the end whether the environment decides to kick some ass or we end up blowing the hell out of each other there really isn't much say I have in the matter so why am I such a jerk for not caring? especially seems I probably wont be around to see it or will be to old to care about it any more than I already do. So Ke Sara Sara my seal cleaning friend, go have yourself a coke and a smile.

If it makes you feel any better I will spare a thought for the crying Indian but as far as my care factor level goes, sorry champ I'm all about the now.

Harsh Justice

2007-05-27T20:42:00.000-07:00

I have found that sometimes in life you have to bend over and take the big one right up the old humble maker. A harsh reality to grasp and believe me i fought it down to the wire but in the end the whole not being a kid anymore and the expectation to act as such comes into play and all hope is apparently lost. This was a very hard concept for me to accept.

For as long as I can remember I have had this on going persistence to stand for what is right. of course what that means is to stand for what in my opinion is right and to be as stubborn and passionate about it as humanly possible, so much so that it far surpasses what is socially and relationally acceptable. never the less no matter what the circumstance or outcome you stand your ground and fight the good fight.

Pride is a funny thing

Growing up where I live was far from your classic ghetto scenario though trouble has a way of finding you when this particular program is written into your mainframe, something about the short kid with the big mouth attracted a beat down from time to time but in the mind of my 14 year old self a black eye was a small price to pay when I knew I was right. some macho bullshit right, classic case of male ego. I couldn't agree more but when your young you only know what you have been told and so you can only live from that of which you have been taught.

Still I remember the sense of justice and satisfaction from upsizeing someones head after trying to steal your girl or your candy. Recent studies have shown that primal instincts will always take over when there is a woman or sugar involved, that shit is serious.

Evidently as you get older and a little more wiser your duelling gloves are often retired and the need to throw an opponent down the gauntlet is kept at bay by words of a diminutive and degrading nature, harsh staring contests, relentless gossiping and rumour spreading until the target develops an eating disorder. you might say that mentally 15 year boys eventually mature into 15 year old girls.

on the other hand old habits are hard to kick.

I love music and I have a tendency when driving from A to B to crank it which leads to an extravagant display of semi retarded body movement in the form of air drums and/or air guitar. In my time on this earth I have noticed that When the music is your guide you lose all sense of what is hot and what is not.

Upon having one of my patented musical exorcisms a glance to my right revealed an eshay and his girlfriend pointing, laughing and being merry.Those un familiar with the term eshay, eshlad or esh anything I will enlighten your world.

A severe group of wannabe hard nuts that have infected the regions of Sydney's west. Age starting from as low as 14 they are easily spotted by not only there lidless eyes from all the pills they swallow to get down and boogie but from the ridiculous dress code: a white cap tipped so far up it would make a Rabbi jealous, followed by a striped to the side polo shirt with short tennis shorts and a wide range of coloured runners, which is multi seasonal I might add even in the middle of winter there is no change in stylist, gotta hand it to them on the commitment if nothing else. at any random time after 10:00pm packs of 11 to 12 of them roam the streets mugging and bashing people just like they see the cool people that they follow around do. You know the type mid thirty's still roaming the streets and hitting up high school party's because their tough, broke as hell with no future, but tough.

un doubtably you may have noticed that to begin with i was not a big fan but in their defence i would've looked like a dick so I smiled pointed to the sky with my one good finger and continued on my musical journey. to my surprise this did not go down well and the next 10 mins consisted of a fun filled adventure of tail gating, high beam flashing and excessive swearing. From what I could see of his white cap barely reaching over the steering wheel the little punk appeared to be enjoying himself.

I was but a couple of streets from my house and it seemed that my little eshay friend was having to good a time to move on with his life. I decided to pull the car over before reaching my house for I didn't particularly want this kid coming back to by place of residence, didn't think it was such a great idea. Denying my expectations of him yelling some more and driving off he decided to do a very silly thing. he pulled in behind me and got out of his car and charged straight at mine very tough indeed

but in doing so he also revealed his height, age and lack there of, at an educated guess he looked no older than fifteen but bearing green P plates meant that he was at least 18. go figure

I decided to not let my automobile of preference burden the fury of Daycare Edition Eshlad and stepped from my car to see what the dealio was (for the jury it should be noted I was a little mad at Mr tennis shorts by now ) fists clenched and in his best big boy voice little man changed his course of direction and headed straight for me. It would be a blatant lie if I said I expected any less, though I was noticeably older and slightly bigger than he was I am far from the definition of built and was well aware that I am about as intimidating as a stoned puppy on valentines day.

I can think now of all the cool things one can say in this situation "don't make me angry you wouldn't like me when I'm angry " or even " do you feel lucky Esh" but no body really says or even thinks these things but in hind sight dam it would've been sweet.

As he got closer I realised the kids already played this out in his head and in front of a mirror a thousand times since he was five and that the inevitable was going to happen.

The temptation to over dramatise the story into a 70's batman episode of BAM!!!!ZIP!!!!!KAPOWIE!!! in which a 15 second stint of me doing the swim over an unconscious felon is always on the cards daaaaa...nanna nanna nanna nanna nanna nanna nanna nanna.

but no fraid not. He went down and my turn came to give him a righteous verbal serving of my own. but alas a "How do you like me now bitch" was nowhere to be found not even a "stay in school" nothing I froze. his eye's began to glaze and that high pitched squeak of a voice was silent. Case closed, a job well done only there was something missing. Where was the satisfaction? where was the justification of my previous self? gone like Britney Spear's innocence. it was a strange and new sensation for me and in all honesty I felt about the same gratification as if I had just punted a midget square in the crutch... which after much soul searching still remains surprisingly appealing.

I attempted a shrug of the shoulders apologised to the girl in his car and left completely dumbfounded by the change of emotions.A mass pondering session with a few friends of mine led only to give the conclusion that this must be how Spiderman and co feel. often a session of Spiderman or Superman left me quite frustrated due to the fact that Peter Parker could totally kick the crap out of that asshole giving him lip, your fricken Spiderman you don't need to play that crap identity or not that guys gotta go down. slightly over dramatic I know.

Fast forward to the present, an ongoing current situation has brought me much frustration and to make a long story short I am required to do something that goes against everything I'm used to. but I cant help but Imagine that if I follow tradition things will get much much worse.

To get a little serious on yo ass sometimes I feel that maybe as you get older shit that seemed to be such a big deal once doesn't seem to matter to you as much anymore. I was and will always be a proud cocky prick but sometimes maybe you gotta just suck it up for the sake of someone else.

I guess this means I have to get rid of my cape

The Drop Bear

2007-05-15T16:43:00.000-07:00

recently i have been promoted to position of designated wing man after a good Friend of mine split with his missus. so to get him back on the horse we've upped the anti to our nights out and over the past 4 - 5 weeks our residential drinking area has been located in a bar on the boardwalk of darling harbour called Cargo Bar nice place and if your in the area i suggest you check it out. However since this change of scenery i have come to grips with the fact that the majority of bars and clubs management have been taken over by a radical movement of lesbian feminist Nazi's who personally see to it that only boobs may enter their places of business. its a new world out there and girl power is the theme.

to be honest it sucks, it sucks the big one that a guy cant go out for a beer with his boys. I call for equal opportunities..I call for equal rights...I have a dream that one day all people may enter a bar as equals.

it seems to me that Boobs have become the permission slips of bars and clubs if you come without your boobs the bus leaves without you and you have to sit outside with all the other boobless schmucks and the crazy kid who always seems to be eating glue. in rare occasions a note from your boobs may allow you admission but its a long shot to say the least

DEAR Nazi Lesbians

our apologies for Martinez's absence of boobs. We ask that you please excuse Martinez of his boobs and even though he is boobless ask that you allow him permission on the excursion to drunk town. we apologise for our absence however we are unable to accompany him due to prior engagements but rest assured we are their in spirit and most certainly in Martinez's mind. lots of love .

signed Martinez's Boobs

on arriving at Cargo Bar it took all of 3 seconds to realise that we were not getting in on account of showing up with one too many Y chromosomes which kinda pissed me off a little but what can you do its a woman's world and I suppose they were right how dare we show up with only our members in our hands don't you know that your in spice world now, its girl power motherfucker.

in any case we struck a truce with two girls who were passing by to accompany us pass the Nazi's defences and into the bar and we would buy them any drink they wanted and they could be on their merry way they agreed and we entered. we got to the bar thanked them again and asked them what they would like

um I'm not sure what I'm in the mood for you decide

how about a vodka cruiser or something

um nah

martini???

no

beer???

uh uh

yager bomb???

oh I'm so sick of them

oh good God woman!

as you may have guessed these two were not the brightest sparks in the circuit so consequently this went on for sometime until we eventually got around to the drink of all drinks the drop bear

i have been marketing the drop bear for roughly a year now in the hope of building its cred though i have always been hesitant of introducing it to the female species for it is not the regular vodka and kisses girly tea party drink. not to be sexist but its an acquired taste mainly to drunken idiots who have lost their sense of taste and will to live.

the drop bear is the product of a joke between a group of Friends that i met whilst on a contiki tour around Europe when i was 21. with most contiki groups there were roughly 50 people mostly Australian and American, over the course of the tour one of the Australian's decided to follow tradition and convince one of the Americans about the existence of drop bears and hoop snakes and what not.

now the chosen target was a stoner which is kinda cheating i know but he was the kinda stoner that wanted people to think he was smart and knowledgeable with his expanded mind and outstanding groovyness, the mere thought of a un heard of species had his mind expanding like a hot air balloon it was beautiful. In all honesty though it wasn't entirely his fault the guy delivering the web of lies was surprisingly convincing and kept a straight face about it for two straight weeks it was impressive but even more impressive than that was the attention to detail. The sound they make, size and origin this guy was a pro and i tip my hat to you Anthony

The drop bear according to Anthonys dictionary:

Member of the koala bear family nearly extinct due to extensive culling in the early 1800's. Black and brown in colour with sharp teeth and long claws, almost three times the size of a koala bear. the drop bear gets its name from its tendencies to drop from trees onto its prey emitting a screeching sound similar to that of the Nazgul in the movie lord of the rings rumours emerged that Peter Jackson witnessed the terrifying sound first hand last time he came to Australia and imitated it for his movie.

by the end of the tour the joke had gotten way out of hand and on the very last night that we were all together we decided to ease his suffering and fill him in on the situation. he did not take it to well so in memory of this poor bastards stupidity we created a drink in his honour. The drop bear

ingredients
Fosters beer
The only Australian beer that can be found in Europe is fosters the shit is every where and the funny thing is most Australians hate the stuff but that's not the point

Bundaberg rum
The bundaberg rum mascot is a polar bear and on top of that in a popular Australian commercial the polar bear pretends to be a drop bear to scare hot Swedish girls into hanging with the polar bears human mates...yes the polar bear has human mates why? i don't know..I just dont know.

Directions
fill a glass three quarters to the top with fosters beer
fill a shot glass of bundaberg rum
drop the shot glass into the glass of fosters and down the drink in one hit

4 drop bears please to which the bartender looked at me blankly. after explaining the drink to him he looked at me oddly for a second and then made it happen. We downed the drinks and the girls were not impressed, why would they be, they just slammed down a glass of Australia's shitest beer with a deviate polar bears rum inside.

don't you wish you had taken the Vodka cruiser now

I once new a man named Enis

2007-04-22T21:05:00.000-07:00

I saw a guy fall down some steps yesterday HILARIOUS. its true, it happened and it was great, Truely amazingly random and an enjoyable experience for all (well except for the obvious). wasn't a huge staircase or anything just a 3 steps job. the initial slip, the tumble whilst still trying to remain balanced to the time he gave up and went limp for a perfect 0 points landing it was awesome and i cannot deny i laughed, i laughed pretty dam hard, to the point of tears and the loss of ability to walk in a normal and straight action even now as I'm writing about it i cant fight the smile back off my face. he had about 4 judges viewing the spectacle 1 of which disappeared for a giggle around the corner were as the other 2 decided to fight back the tears and aid his suffering whilst directing fake horrified faces at yours truly and the other guy for openly displaying that this mans big moment we had surely not missed.

"oh let the sun shine in" i understand the dude was down but i was just calmly walking to work when this kind soul decided to grace me with a ray of sunshine to start the day it would be somewhat ungrateful of me to just pretend that i saw nothing this was his time in the limelight his courage is to be rewarded with the joy of others besides its not like i stood right over his mangled corpse poking his open wounds with a pointy stick. if i were you i would enjoy it have a laugh share a point with me for next time it could be you and if you cannot find pleasure in the miss fortune of others how can you truly appreciate the attention you will receive when it happens to you

truth be told the guy was o.k a little embarrassed as to be expected got straight up as if nothing had happened. going in for a closer look at the spot he fell at and announcing his diagnosis as to why it happened is all part of the show. no body really cares my man it was just your time.

I have a theory

We need these things to survive. these little occurrences no matter how your feeling will always land a smile we have all witnessed these spectacles at least a couple of times in our life time a tumble here a walk into a pole there its gold, there is no joke no anecdote that even compares to the comedy that follows from a good old fashion trip in the head over the ass category. (at least not in my opinion, if you can look me in the eye and tell me you do not find it the slightest bit amusing then mister you are a better man then I) so in saying this maybe there is a little more to it lets look at what we know

people fall in and out of love everyday yes?? yes. we know of the adolescent angel with a heart on the end of his arrow that will target the very dairy air'ness of your life but yet we deny his existence because we have not seen him only the effects of his work but alas you have been fooled "that" is exactly what "they" wanted you to think just as i cannot see the wind i know that when a tree falls over it didn't just give up the ghost it was knocked over by an unexpected and unseen force.

i think it is safe to say that there are forces at work in this world other then what we can see or generalise as science and would be naive to think that cupid is alone is his quest.. just as love just happens so to do these little incidents so what can we conclude? i think its a rather obvious and terrifying reality.

there is another.... a whisper in the shadows, a low beam in the dark, a slippery point on an otherwise sturdy surface. only known as the destroyer of smooth first impressions he is a sworn enemy to those of the cool and suave nature Surprisingly the image of this seemingly mythological yet very real creature is as famous as it is cleverly disguised and what the FEDs don't want you to know is that a google search of the covert words" stop the pigeon" and a selection of the first link is actually the very same artists conception from an eye witness of the famous banana incident in 75 after the suspect was picked up in a bar outside Hanna Barbera airport the case was thrown out due to reasonable doubt.

he's out there people be afraid for one day you could find yourself slipping on nothing, being executed for treason or being hit in the crutch by a random object for no apparent reason what so ever.

Hillsong

2007-04-17T17:07:00.000-07:00

I must say i am down with free speech, i believe it can give a voice to the people and serves the rights and opinions of the intelligent and those involved in any situation.....sniff......God bless America...tear. seriously though free speech I'm for it. however it also gives a voice to the stupid, the ignorant, the red necked, the racist, the sexist, the all round cockheads who's opinions and ideas are as warped as there sense of right and wrong from which they can spew all kinds of accusations and theory's without evidence or proof claiming them as fact all in the name of "i am a cockhead and i have free speech for my grand father fought in the war so that gives me the right to piss all over everything he fought for" yes sir it is a free country you do have free speech and make no mistake about it you are by all definition a cockhead.

over a series of recent events i found myself feeling the need to jump into the corner of one Hillsong church something which came as quite a shock to myself for prior to this moment on the topic of Hillsong i would not be inclined to give a flying fox one way or the other yet now here i am ringside holding the spit bucket on fight night. For those unfamiliar with Hillsong their a successful church group grown from 45 people to a now tens of thousands of people in Australia alone they have also expanded into Europe, Russia, Ukraine and England, and are a Beacon to the pentecostal christian community but along with there success has come speculation from pretty much all accounts of people even some of there own kind so to speak, assholes from all over the land unite as one to put shit on a church its inspiring just absolutely inspiring (just google it you'll see what i mean)

allow me to explain i stumbled upon a forum debate about Hillsong and whether it was or was not a cult. never heard it being called a cult before seemed unusual but i was interested a friend of mine had jumped on the Hillsong band wagon so any kinda insider information i could use against them was a plus. as i began to scroll down i received a mixed bag of laughter and anger at the sheer stupidity of some of the statements made. one i was particularly fond of was:

"its a cult man they just want your money"

to which the reply came

" oh really why do you say that"

to a response

"a friend of mine went there and reckoned that.......... "

ah sorry can i stop you there maybe its just me but i really don't see the creditability of a statement that kicks of with my Friend said. a Friend of yours said so, shit argument over i apologise for ever doubting you. so you weren't actually there, you haven't really heard or seen anything from the other sides story your only source of information comes from the supporters of your own cause and you believe your statement to be fair why??? and besides that i was unaware of the fact that wanting your money classifies something as a cult Mc Donalds wants your money, they a cult? pick an industry any industry....they want your money! hell when i was 10 i would jump for joy when my grandparents came around because they always funded my vision for toys and candy does that then make me the member of a seedy bunch of depressive freaks robed in long white jump suits hell bent on drinking the magic cool aid, according to a little bit of research Hillsong is worth 10's of millions and there on the up with there own sales of books, music and Cd's not to mention financial backing of multi million dollar company's such as Gloria Jeans so why the hell would they want your measly 10, 20 maybe 50 dollars unless they actually believed that it was a godly thing to do in their religion, think about it.

oh but they have a big expensive building and pay no tax? um I'm not an expert but i have been to Rome and seen the popes crib its not a cardboard box and Ive seen sum mosques around and i don't think they were done on a budget champ despite the fact they are a big church with a lot of people its, now a crime for a man to be smart about how he runs a church that's right a church and the law is that a church can operate without being taxed because of its relevance and input into the community whether it needs it or not. the whole debate was filled with I'll bet that... and I heard that... and I know you are but what am I... it was some seriously high grade intellectual stuff

as far as i can see in every religion Christian, Catholic, Muslim, Mormon whatever the only other goal besides your own eternal salvation is others eternal salvation and your gonna pull these people down because they are good at what they do and actually believe and act upon what they teach. have you seen some of the stuff they do they pull the big gun preachers from all over the world and market their music worldwide put on festivals and stuff for kids and whether you believe it or not give a truckload of cash to various charity's everywhere but the reality is, that is none of your dam business...tool.

who says you cant run a church like a business seems to me like its relatively the same principles you want it to grow and expand and make money so you can then build sister buildings to grow and expand and so on, the circle of life continues. who gives you the right to say it shouldn't be done you go to church on Easter and on Christmas and that makes you a saint and scholar in the matter. so what their making money, good for them do you get mad at coca cola for making money just because you don't like their product? I haven't seen any blogs or forums about that vile injustice all though with dickheads like you out there its always on the books.

so tell me how much money have you given to charity this year, if you didn't have to pay tax would you and if you had that kinda money would you even give half of what they do???....hmm.....well i guess that is your Que to shut the fuck up then! freedom of speech and all.

We Were 1

2007-04-12T21:17:00.000-07:00

o.k so heres the thing, working in the city has its advantages the opportunity's, the scenery, the bars, the music its all good however being an outsider from....you know....out there beyond the borders! There is one little in convenience in the transitional period known only as the city rail experience. Don't get me wrong beats driving and in all fairness it could go either way good or bad its all a fricken lottery. You by your ticket every time and when it just doesn't happen for you, you curse the gods and all that is evil in this world only to stand right back in line the next day with the expectation that this time would be different.

i'll see if i can set the mood for you

I'm sitting there awaiting the string of events to come from that hour trip into the promised lands, at each stop awaiting the new occupants almost trying to will the train that little bit further down the station to benefit the whole train experience. Oh she's pretty, c'mon u can make it, little bit more, that's it, that's i.....arggh DAM IT or oh God no! please no, not the school kids, have you no mercy stop stop ssttooppp!! if you are familiar with the whole city rail expierence you may relate

By this point between the haunting sounds of school children cackling and screaming as 15 year olds do best and the fact that there is not one creature that even remotely resembles that of an attractive human being within eye sight. I decided you know what! I can deal with it! the music in my ears is kicking and i can shut my eyes and all will be well. Right, ha wrong not today for today I repay my debt to society and take one for the team, today the world says you know what Martinez Fuck you!

As I sat there staring out the window trying to make the best out of the situation I couldn't help but look as the train rolled up to the next station and suddenly this over whelming feeling of insecurity began to arise inside of me that in some way, some how something was about to go down. Fear got the best of me in that moment and i just couldn't bare to look. Eyes held shut I feel the seat shifting from the weight of someone or something sitting down, When suddenly it hit me, Like a slap in the face. This horrible, sick nay evil individual

stunk

Yeah that's right! stunk, I guess maybe your a little disappointed huh, probably expecting a man with no head or some nightmare on elm st kinda shit from the build up and maybe your right, maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing but you know what, you weren't there! you didn't have to endure it! you know not of the demonic presence that filled that carriage on that dreadful morning! so bite me and for the record id take a run at Mr Kruger or share a seat with a headless accountant over what this guy was representing any day of the week.

But more concerning then the smell is the mind numbing anomaly of how?? how at 7:00 in the morning could someone be in such a state of pure evil?? what could he have possibly done? How man, How?

Maybe he was on his way to the station when he bumped into a marathon runner in training in which a heated argument arouse with the runner pulling out his duelling glove and challenging him to a race to the top of death mountain and being a man of honour he had to except?

wow, must be a hell of runner...wait his shoes ain't scuffed at all, I bet he never even ran up death mountain, probably cant even run at all. I have half a mind to slap this mofo for posing as some kinda athlete, pphh thinks hes got the whole world fooled. Ha not me though, Im on to you.....PRICK!

wait!

Maybe he works at the cologne and deodorant store and figures why pay for the merchandise when he can just apply the cologne compliments of the house when he gets to work?

I cant believe this guy, what a tight ass I gotta suffer so he saves himself some money man that's just selfish and stealing as well what a thief,what a selfish tight ass smelly thief.......PRICK!

oh hang on!

There is water restrictions and deodorant can cause damage to the ozone, cant it? maybe hes trying to save the planet, that's decent of him, I mean not driving to work, low on the water usage and ozone friendly like an environmentalist or something......PRICK

To be honest I really don't know what I'm suppose to do in this situation. There is no training for this, they don't teach you this stuff in school, I mean I always carry some back up cologne in my suitcase but i cant just spray it on him without his consent, besides I'm 99% sure his powers are far superior to that of este lauder's for men.

Damn it man you have to try something! So I did. I did what any self respecting citizen would do, in a move of desperation i quickly jump forward into my suitcase and began to spray myself saying loud enough

geez I nearly forgot. a man's gotta take care of his mojo you know

as the guy gives me a forced smile and nod i return with a

this is good stuff though, here you should try some, the ladies will love you.

BOOYAH I'm in, i did it, i actually found away t........No thank you. DAM IT DAM DAM SON OF A BITCH DAM IT TO HELL. I sank in to my seat, Bitter, crushed and defeated! all that was left was stop breathing and welcome the sweet relief of the light at the end of the tunnel.

As I began to turn purple, I begin to notice the faces of those around me, devastated but with a hint of respect as if to say: you know what kid! you crashed and burned but you did your best and there is no shame in it. It was at that second I had but a brief moment of relief for i did not stand alone, these were my brethren my brothers and sisters in arms, it was us verses him and though we were crushed in battle, in the war victory is all but ours for we were only tortured and mutilated for that trip but he will smell till the end of his days and that's gotta count for something.