Drunk idiot reporting for duty....

Hello to the thousands of you that follow this well established, controversial, yet well regarded BLOG.

I begin this scribble listening to 'Air', at full tilt on my B&W's after having consumed a substantial amount of his highness Johnny Wallker the third (red, i'm broke).

I'm coming to many strange realizations about myself, least of which is that I'm feeling much more in touch with my spirituality in the past year or so; which I've always known was there, but was unable to let it out due to guilt. About what i'm not quite sure. I don't care about the things I used to. I always pictured myself being career focused, with money a motivator, being single, doing what i wanted, when i wanted to do it. It's not happening quite the way I'd imagined, but i'm completely cool with that. I want to achieve goals, but at the same time i don't care about them at all. Everything i do is for now, not tomorrow or later. I want to live with the idea 'i may not be here tomorrow' in the noise-floor of my thoughts. No regrets. Everything counts all the time, the smallest interactions are worth an unthinkable fortune.

On a lighter note, I also discovered that fashion models are not my thing. I spent the good part of the week in the lingerie department of myer looking after a few fashion parades. In that time you can expect to see quite a few naked 'girls' which used to get me excited, but now I'm nearly over it. Does every chick have to look like they're sixteen? I preferred the producer Kathryn with her beautiful smile and gorgeous shapely figure. A kiss would have been nice. Fuck models. They suck. Give me the real woman anyday. Preferably with the eyes of a vixen, the kiss of heaven, a body of chocolate, and the soul of a muse. Not much to ask really is it?

Shut up all of you....

Alrighty, I'm blogging already!!!!

Seeing as I have to account for nearly a week, I might go point form because my fingers are cold and I'm having trouble typing.

Sunday:
I meet Rampaging Paul, and Speed-demon Lotte. Cool Cats. Lots of fun on the Daisy Hill ride, I took a dive, froze my nuts off, and realized how bad my brakes actually are. Picture Balsa wood on polished marble and you're close. My knee is still hurting a bit (yes, i did have a cry) but should be right to obliterate myself again on wednesday. Tamyka thinks she's so cool 'cos she's good at hills. Biatch.

Monday:
Did the launch of the Sony PSP at the powerhouse. Pretty shitful really. Ben Gilles' new band (timbre something?) played. They kinda sucked except for a few tunes. Although there were plenty of hard nipples, none of the girls there actually had anything for me. Again. They all suck.

Wednesday - Friday:
Off to Couran Cove for an AAPT webcast/training thing/Galah dinner thing. Boring. Thing is, I'm one of the few people I work with that actually likes the place, in summer. In winter it's really boring. No point going to the beach, it's just too damn cold.

The outlook is bleak, I have to work down at Royal Pines for the next 3 days, not really sure what for but I think it could be for the movie convention. At least I can plug in to broadband.....I might even get enough time to work on a mix I'm mastering for Ralphy.

Haven't had a real ride since Sunday. Not good. Need to hammer myself a bit more. Not long until the epic and I feel like I've done bugger all to get ready for it. Ah well. I guess i can just attach a rope to Tam's bike and she can pull me up the hills with those huge quads.;.....

Porkrind do the Trouby

Yo... well the gig came and went. All was good, people rejoiced, babies stopped screaming momentarily and Prado drivers looked in their mirrors before pulling stupid manoeuvers on fellow motorists.......

I was feeling like shite, suffering badly from a flu-ey thing and was just glad to get through the night. Tam got kicked out b4 even getting in, but seemed sort-of ok on the phone. (that is, the same 'sort-of' that a cockroach would complain of if you stood on it and asked it if it was ok).

Unfortunately for Tam, the people at the door/bar are the manager/owner. So no luck there. Ah well, there'll be more gigs. We think. I couldn't believe how many big-ass rats were out the back of the place in the loading dock. Heaps!

Got to go to bed and try and get better. Need beer. Always need beer. And need a new bike saddle, to relieve severe groing pain. Who was the wise-guy that thought a hard, thin thing was a good idea anyway? Balls people, balls! They have to go somewhere.....

Ok, bye bye