Maybe that turns you on, maybe that's how you get your kicks, you and your good time buddies

How awesome is after work drinks,
when you come home with stolen books;
Cold Comfort Farm -Stella Gibbons


For a good time... Read this book.

and Tropic of Capricorn Henry Miller,
my only knowledge, is from Seinfeld,
well the first one, Tropic of Cancer.



"She" must be fucking ace.

Ahhh, Seinfeld.
Why do good things have to end?

This is my desk at work.
It may not be for long.
Although, the interview wasn't
my best performance.
Rather like when I see my doctor.
Too nervous and feeling guilty.
Therefore giggling.

Although A was kind enough to send me an ecard...
(www.someecards.com)



*******************************************************

Obtained from The Croft Institute.

She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say "when."

I'm impatient for the next episode of this:
PG Wodehouse letters,
BBC7 Radio Program.
I think Sir Wodehouse,
will be my new favourite author.

I am also quite excited by being
able to listen to BBC radio programs
on the iPlayer, although I'm not sure
why some are available and others aren't
to those outside of the home countries.



Matte Stephens
's artwork turns me on.
It's perfect.
How utterly exciting.
This kind of illustration,
I believe,
is what life
is worth living for.

***********************************************
Speaking of I believe.
I believe, "I believe" is different
to "I think",
which is why I'm struggling getting
my insurance back on my lost iPod.

"As you "believe" you left your iPod on the plane,
we stand firmly on our decision, that we do not
cover for articles lost in a public place."
(Words to those effects).

An assigned seat on a plane,
where you must show a passport
to enter,
I believe is not a public place.

Next letter, it to the Ombudsman.
And let it be read.
****************************************
Stolen from English-test.net:
"The words think and believe would be
interchangeable in your sentences.
Using believe might indicate
a stronger conviction."
****************************************
Taken from: Wordreference.com
"They are interchangeable in certain contexts
with "believe" being a bit stronger perhaps.
You would NOT use think when it's a matter of
"religious faith or conviction"
or a similar kind of believing."
****************************************

Hmmm.
I'd be fucked if I ever had to give
a statement in court.
Then again, we'll see what the ombudsman
has to say.

Today and yesterday and the day before.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmVAWKfJ4Go


What I wouldn't give to lie on
the living room floor
with a lover
and cry.

Ohh that was a spectacular goal!

I'm reading Between the monster and the saint,
by Richard Holloway.

Perhaps subconsciously I read this
but I have been saying lately
that the ultimate goal is death.
On the weekend,
I discovered that Freud also said it.
"The goal of all life is death".

And of course,
the dumb ones amongst us,
who aren't oblivious to it all,
know
having to live
to the end,
is harrowing.

What I meant to write,
was,
why do I self-destruct?
Why interact with people
who I know wont give me what I want,
and therefore make me artificially sad.

It's almost as though I'm rebelling
against my calm normal self,
right, it's time for a dip on the old
straight line graph of life.
Silence echos loudly.

It's like knocking on someone's door;

Knock knock.
Silence,
Silence who? WTF?

Oh it's me, I just wanted to..
It's just me, sorry I...

...need to explain myself.

Wait!
Open the fucking door,
and you can tell me you don't want
what I'm selling.

Otherwise, you know I'll come back later,
when things are going well
but I just want to feel like shite.

Hey it was a rhetorical Hello.

Fuck you,
and goodnight.

Room for an alibi.

Ah Engrish. Have you got your Wickets?
And please no smoking behind the sign.
Aparently the horizon is 3 kilometers away. I'm not so sure.
Standing on the windowsill at Tokyo Government Building.

Waiting for the bus to take us to Ibis Hotel in Sydney.

Strangely embarrassed to be asked
do I have a blog?

It's on the internet granted,
though I only let certain people
into my world.

Kindly move curser to top right hand corner,
click on X.

My own fault really,
I stumbled under the knowing eyes
of Dollface, (She does! She does have a blog!),
how could I lie?

Nevertheless, I'm more likely to have
a good alibi this way.

When I die, I'm going to Japan.

So this was Japan.
The photos are displayed from end to start I think.
Anyway, make up your own story.

Otherwise, explanations will be located
here: Lomo.




























Japan was great.

The world, and me in it.

I'm sick of saving the world.

Petitions with Greenpeace, Avaaz, WSPA, Care2, my donating
pet food for RSPCA,
My sponsor child with Plan,
my membership to Animals Australia,
my standing in human lettering of
climate change - our future is in your hands on St Kilda beach,

Pieta and I on St Kilda Beach

And the rest of the people.
my being vegetarian, my organic vege patch,
my shopping local, my drinking soy milk,
my reading books from the library instead of buying them,
my turning off electrical items,
my turning off my computer at the wall when I go home,
my recycling efforts,
it's all getting a bit too much.

Everyday I try to save the world.
It doesn't seem to be paying off.
There's always another petition to sign,
always another disaster,
always another case of cruelty.

You can't tell a parent [with the exception of my mum]
that there's no point to life.
They don't believe you.

Then again.
Seeing as I'm here, I might as well help.

Nostalgia

Where's my royalties?
Or how do I know these things already?

Hellojett Blog: Friday 28th September 2007.
My mother yesterday said to me that she
wants to go home.
She then said
"Do you know what I mean by that?"
-Yes, home is the nostalgia of every
warm memory you've ever known.

You can't go there.

Excerpt from:
"A field guide to Melancholy"
Jacky Browning, 2008.
P.102 Part of the chapter on Nostalgia
basically sums up my above statement.
I can't write it out here, because I'll be
liable to criminal prosecution.

I was going to do my thesis on homesickness
being entirely based on nostalgia.
Drat.

Tea and 5 minutes left.

Ahh tea, is there anything better?


Comment under a cup of tea picture from The Islander Cafe
A strong, stirring, no-nonsense cup of tea. If this doesn't cheer you up you're Morrissey.

5 minutes left before hometime.

Alain de Botton was on Radio National last week,
talking about his new book about work.
I'm in the category of meaningless work,
however, in the great scheme of things,
it is meaningful that I write to a student
to say her/his fee's have been
cancelled because they
were sick.

They talked about a biscuit factory,
where I think my mum worked in England once.
It was great, she'd bring home chewy caramel biscuits,
that were rock hard.
Sometimes she'd ban them because of our teeth.
All us children have nice healthy teeth.

So there was a purpose for her working there.

Anyway there's one minute to go.
And I have to shut down my programs.

Tiens Bon.

Not sure Dollface knows what a snowboard is.

S just sent me this website:
Texts

Dollface: I’m going to snowboard.
And probably hurt myself
(however Chris pointed out that I already have strong wrists from handstands,
so learning to snowboard should not be so painful for me).

How does that work?

J at my work talks to his fiance
like she's 8, just hurt herself
and is trying not to make her cry any further.

I applied for a new job again.

...and you will know me by the trail of texts.

...And you will know us by the trail of dead.

I was cursing not being in the country
when ToD were on here,
(that sounds so international of me doesn't it)
except now they've announced a second night!
Home from Japan to see Trail of Dead!
What could possibly be a better day?


Modest Mouse as well.
Yes.

I was also going to mention,
that once I have completed oil painting
number 3.
I'll probably have the internet connected
at home.
Which means, lots of fun things to look forward to.
Just need to get rid of anxiety about the point of things.