Yep.

I always find blog posts that are simply song lyrics incredibly self-absorbed (unless there's an incredibly good reason).

But for the record there'd be a whole lot of Nude by Radiohead sprayed across here right now.

MMMMMMMMM I don't know.

Dolce and Gabbana - Time

Don't get angry at me.

But the less you speak the more you'll hear.

What I did today.

My spleen is the size of Brazil. I'm not allowed drink, drugs, sex, exercise, rock and roll, or anything that could be viewed as being entertaining in any way.

On the other hand, I've been catching up on my duct tape work. Done two Melbourne cup dresses, a "fragile" sticker ra-ra skirt with a bodiced woven top and a ridiculous fascinator and a fluro orange bobble skirt with a bandage fifth-element top. It's cool. I think. Maybe.

I just want to go home.

One week.

Spent the morning in hospital capping off a lovely week in Wollongong.

In Sydney dates were had, friends were made, girls were lost and found. Lines were had with bands in bathrobes. Oxford Arts cost five dollars and a friend of friend died.

I've got a season of 30 Rock and a season of How I Met Your Mother and three days to watch them in.

I want to go home.

I want to go home I want to go home. I had a gigantic steroid injection this morning that made me feel like I was floating twenty metres above my own corpse, and now I feel slightly better but also slightly off my face.

Of course this all had to happen on one of the biggest weekends of the year. I just want to go and watch movies and chill out and have coffee because even the most boring days in Sydney are the most amazing adventures compared to this place. I realised this last year; Wollongong isn't good for me. It does bad things.

In other news I'm gonna be here for at least another two weeks.

Ill.

I am sick. Really sick. I have glandular fever and chronic fatigue. Best of all, looks like I've given it to everyone I made out with on Saturday night, and a couple people more. Sorry everyone.

I want this.

http://www.youreyeslie.com/mens-scoop-tailored-tshirt-beauty-5.html

Free shipping on orders over 50 pounds (want anything girls?)

You're beautiful but I'm not.

Fuck "the greatest thing you'll ever learn".

Fuck it.

Tonight I went to Terrigal with Declan.

It was fucking awful so we left very quickly to come home.

I spent all my money on train fares and taxis, got depressed, then got egged on the way home.

Fuck.

Where country decay meets urban despair.

I want to go home.

Whinge.

There's nothing more depressing than hanging out with models, especially when you're not one.

And then coming home to find those streetwalker pictures that got taken of you make you look like Five-Chins McGee.

And then finding out the ones of Declan are amazing.

Woo!

I got a macbook pro and now my life is almost complete.

Peaches and Luigi is going gangbusters. By gangbusters I mean I've done two shoots but I need to do more. It's a lot harder to find willing participants than you'd think. *eyes the girls*

Kathryn I love you.

Chloe Sevigny for Opening Ceremony just released these for $360

Kathryn bought them for me for $1.59

It's raining

The thing I like most about when it rains is that it forces people to put their hoods up.
I'm pretty sure the Sartorialist did a piece on this a while ago and I liked it much.

Newtown I love you but you're bringing me down.

I'm probably going to buy myself a nice tidy little SLR, probably a Canon D400, on my way to the US, in which case there's about a ninety-nine point nine nine percent chance that this will become some horrible Newtown streetwalker blog. I say this because I had a walk through Newtown today and it was like living in a world populated entirely by The Sartorialist. Which, you know, I'm not against in any way shape or form, but it did made me feel completely inadequate when the guy standing out the front of 7/11was wearing Balenciaga. At 7/11.

I bought King Gee overalls at the op-shop today, and then spent the afternoon convincing myself that they are cool.

My job can suck my penis.

I think I'm about to get fired.

In which case I'd like to officially state, for the record, that the company for which I work is about to commit massive insurance fraud of the accidentally-on-purpose-fire-in-the-warehouse variety.

If I get fired, I'm going public.

The end.

New York i love you...

Yeah, so two weeks today I'll be in New York.

Bought an awfully nice shirt today. Going to buy more in New York.

Who gives a fuck about uni when you can buy bagels from Jewish people?

I think it might be happening again.

Last year, I (almost) went to Sweden on an impulse.

Just got my tax return, and discovered Delta Airlines have some awful cheap flights next week.

...New York, anyone?

M.

The other day I cleaned my house like a maniac whilst listening to the hottest 100.

Now it is absolutely trashed. Harry threw a box of empty bottles at John. John threw a fan heater at him.

I love my friends.

I'm really drunk and I have a shoot for Oyster tomorrow. I've also got a shoot for something else later this month. Funtimes.

Harry is asleep somewhere in my house but I can't find him.

You're beautiful but your old life was shit.

I cannot wait to have money.

I'm so, so sick of living from Friday to Tuesday every week on zero dollars. I went shopping with Aaron the other night and he bought a three hundred dollar scarf. I wore it to the Oxford Art Factory. It was great. I felt awesome. I just want to be able to save money and purchase something and have something to show for working. I got nothing.

On the topic of Aaron he's managed to get me into a shoot for somethingorother magazine. I'd like to do stuff like that. I'm good at it. Ironically there's no money in it at all.

Story of my life really.

Wha happened?

Today:
Woke. Ate three pieces of toast for breakfast.
Worked. Sold some crap to some people. Not very much though.
Ate lunch with Declan and his sister.
Bought a really nice pair of jeans and a scarf.
Procured supplies for the weekend.
Came home.
Realised phone bill is due tomorrow. Realised I don't have enough money for phone bill.
Regreted jeans, not the scarf. Then neither. Who cares about overdraw.
Visited friend working on King St.
Finally worked up the nerve to go into my housemates room (she's moved out). Discovered that it's easily twice the size of my room, has heating and a verandah.
Resolved to set alarm half an hour early tomorrow so I can go have a chat to the housing people re: that room.
Went to Capoeira.
Sung Brazilian folk till I literally couldn't any more.
Went to Sushi Train.
Came home.
Had a shower.
Updated my blog.
Slept?

You are beautiful but you talk too much.

I'm really stoned.




Declan is in a snowglobe.

That is all.

Still holding hands through the catflap.

I had the laziest day today. Smoked too much, ate only burritos and pizza, and drank way too many coffees. I feel like I'm living in a haze.

I feel so self indulgent every time I post half-baked internet philosophies on life on here. Sorry.

Still, though, if I had the choice, I'd change my hand.

That makes me as angry as seeing Katy Perry in an Agatha Ruiz de la Prada.
As if that whore understands what she's wearing.

Hello.

Hello.

Writer's block.
Unable to get high tonight, we retreated to watch the last episode of skins on my living room floor from a bed made of pillows. To my left all the ingredients necessary to make lemon lime and bitters sans lemon. To my right a barely sufficient twenty watt heater.

Went to OAF last night. Snuck in to a sold out Yves Klein Blue by drawing stamps on our wrists.

My life is proper ridiculous.

Amazing that such a fox can fail at life.

I'm down in Wollongong again after the onslaught of drink and drugs and people leaving on jet planes.

I need to start updating this more often because I forget about stuff that happens or I choose not to post it because I don't want to. Most of the people that read this know about what happens anyway.

I've been a bit down lately. There's a tendancy to attribute it to a single event but it's actually got next to nothing to do with that event.

And whilst having your two best friends muntedly crashing your bedroom at two in the morning might not be such fun at the time in retrospect it gives you some fun memories to look at.

I don't know what I'm going to do with those memories though.

Lookbook.

I'm going to join lookbook.nu

Black skinnys and a blue cardigan from my work "new look" does not make.
I can do better than that, and I plan to.

buildings were bigger when you were small and that was all.

I earned $20,611.34 in the past 18 months and I have nothing to show for it. Happily though this is enough to qualify for the Austrailan Government's "free money" scheme so I'm not that fussed.

I bought the most incredible leather messenger bag for $3.50 from the Smith Family and an awesome $6 sweater from the Salvation Army. I like sweaters. I think I might collect sweaters. I think I might be the only drug-addled self-proclaimed indie kid in the world who's contemplating having a sweater collection and in no way is that a bad thing.

Pizza's are being cooked, beer's in the fridge and "True Lies" is being downloaded. I love life.

And, unsurprisingly, it then happened again.

I always knew that the weekend after exams finished for me would be big, but I never thought I'd end up with pretty much 56 hours of straight trismus (and counting).

I feel like mould.

It happened again.

I'm sorry Josh's person.

I'm sorry that you don't have the self control to say 'no thanks' to a 'quick few drinks' after work.
I'm sorry you couldn't handle the fact that it was happy hour.
I'm sorry you felt the need to do shots with your managers.
I'm sorry you chainsmoked like an ass.

I'm sorry you hooked up with someone that you really shouldn't have.

I'm sorry you peed in public and walked to oxford st in the rain with a longneck.
I'm sorry you went to stonewall.
I'm sorry that you lost your wallet at stonewall.
I'm sorry you made people to come to stonewall and now don't remember them being there.
I'm sorry you had to pay the taxi with coins.
I'm sorry you threw up all over yourself.

I'm sorry it was Thursday.

This entry is mainly just me procrastinating from study.

Today was one of those days that was really typical in my life so I don't know why I'm finding the need to write a blog entry tomorrow. Maybe it's because I have my only two major exams tomorrow and am going to be locked in a room from 9.20 till 4.30 because I have clashes. Seriously, I have to go to a place called the "Clash Room", which has considerably less neo-punk references in it than you'd think.

Anyway, today was going pretty standard. Went and had coffee with the bromance at the fish cafe. The coffee there is really bad but there's a certain appeal to being able to sit on milk crates on king street watching all the hipsters go by and sipping lattes. We truly are the face of Oxford Arts.

Then I went to capoeira, which was really cool. I'm training for a tournament in Melbourne in the holidays which should be pretty kickin. I bought a new uniform today which was exxy but getting necessary considering how the old one looked.

Then I came home and everyone was in my living room eating pizza and drinkin' beers. Checked on the status of some special letters from Austria; they are on way. Made some tea and took one down to the bromance. Now I'm "studying".

It's times like this when I realise how much I really, really don't care about my university degree. Honestly, it's just a HECs debt inducing means of passing time for me. I get to live with my best friends, drink beers on a Monday night, and study.

Now I'm going to go and scare the shit out of my housemates who are watching house of wax.

Goodnight.

Sailor and the Sea

I built my house out of straw
I learnt my lesson when I lost my walls
I drunk too much took this and that
I tried being thin but I'm stuck being fat
I wanted to be
What the sailor is to the sea
but I couldn't live with that

I want to be big and I want to be small
I want to Hamlet and a fly on the wall
So I buy all these clothese and I give them away
cause I want to be straight but I want to be gay
I thought I might find
the catalyst for making up my mind
but I couldn't live with that

I'm not my own coffin but I am the nail
I can't afford food but buy drugs in the mail
The music tells me that there's someone out there
But when the music stops I haven't got a chair
And meaning for me
should come from things that are totally free
but I can't live with that

so I'll change reality
add two to two and stop getting three
and learn to live
through the things I'm without and the people I'm with
Cause I can live with that

My life is half-half

I'm overtired and very very poor. By very very poor I mean I literally have four dollars forty to my name until next Tuesday, at which point I'll get paid $62, which is literally half my overdrawn phone bill.

I stayed in a five-star hotel last night for free and then went shopping in the city with some friends. All up, we spent over three grand together on clothes. There were four of us.

I spent a dollar sixty on a train fare.

God my life is weird.

Why do we do these things to ourselves?

I have a 2000 word essay due tomorrow that I haven't done and I'm so hungover I wish I was dead. I woke up this morning with no idea where I was with this dude who has more skin covered in tattoos than not and whose wardrobe is probably worth more money than me. He gave me sunglasses. He's probably going to be my new manager.

I realise that's an incredibly bad way to start a work relationship but beggers can't be choosers and frankly if it got me out of General Pants I'd do Madeleine Allbright. I didn't sleep with him or anything bad but still...yeah.

Completely missed Philadelphia Grand Jury and the Scare yesterday because I got too drunk and forgot to leave my house.

And suddenly the kids were Oxford Arts...

I'm becoming more and more aware that I the only reason I come back to Wollongong is for the unlimited super-fast internet that lives at my parents' house.

Not doing a 2000 word American Studies lecture due on Wednesday. Waiting for temporarily legal mail from Austria. Paying ten dollars for the Scare and Philadelphia Grand Jury at Oxford Arts.

Quitting my job because I can't handle the hipster bitch any more. Earning more money from the government from pissing my time away doing nothing than I would earn from my job.

Being scared during a blackout that swineflu has finally consumed the power grid and we're all about to face a real-life 28 days later.

This is bullshit and helps no-one.

So here goes.

Disclaimer: I'm not gonna go through all the details of my life so far to date because I can't be fucked and I'm sure it'll all come out eventually. I'm just going to start this blog as if it's been going forever.



And thus already I have nothing to write.



I'm hungover. Went to Come Together 2009 yesterday at Luna Park.

-Datarock was fantastic - a really tight set that fed off the largely under-age crowd. Audience participation during a minimalist 'Computer Camp Love' was a fantastic; something about ageing sweaty Norwegian men in matching red tracksuits screaming what is usually a keyboard solo I find strangely attractive and it makes me a little uncomfortable.

- Dukes of Windsor on the other hand were a bit of a let down - there was a vague pub-band vibe that got boring fast. I don't think it helped either that most of the audience probably thought they were covering TV Rock. The frontman's obvious vocal abilities lived up to expectations but to put it simply they just seemed a bit tired.

- Midnight Juggernauts played their songs well. There's not much more to say but obviously it went off.

- Art vs Science, everyday heroes of the Shire teenager, played their usual energetic fare, but there's something slightly disconcerting about them; maybe a little too energetic. I get the sense sometimes that they're almost carictures of themselves - it's like bubblegum electro that's so sweet it's almost bitter again, but not quite.





Wow, this just turned into a music review blog rather quick, no?



Highlight of the day: finding a half-full goon sack beneath the our bridge and walking round Milsons Point in search of a pie slowly getting more and more hammered with the illuminated shells of the House reflecting on the harbour waters in the background.