Another disgrace

Figure 1 Michael in dire need of a haircut.

Figure 2 Christopher in dire need of an attitude adjustment.

Young human males without partners spend more money on alcohol than on food

Get this show on the road

I will resume posting soon...

What if this is as good as it gets?

You may be wondering what this strange looking photograph is depicting. Is it a high resolution photograph of Jupiter or one of the other gas giants? Or is it a picture taken from the inside of someone's knee joint? If you thought it was either of those two things, you'd be wrong. Its actually a picture taken from the inside of someone's knee joint.

On Saturday night, Tript, Princess, Dr Oboe and The Rodfather came over for a few refreshments after a long week of toiling in the salt mines. We may have had a few too many refreshments I don't know, I can't remember, but what I do remember is waking up the next morning and finding my upright stability had deteriorated to somewhere between 19th century amputee and a blind person with both inner ears removed. As you can imagine, this is not the ideal situation.

Upon inspection of the crazy knee, no signs of external injury were present, though someone wearing lipstick had kissed the inside of both my thighs several times (probably Tript). I proceeded to gently manipulate said knee and found that I couldn't straighten it much past the orovengular position. Though having said that, there was a slight inscansing of the nephrolymbic side. Weird. Anyway, what I'm basically trying to say is that my leg bend is now all gammy. This is particularly good news because I had the same knee reconstructed two years ago and I've been looking for some way of getting back into hospital.

So I hobbled off to the doctor the next day and sure enough, he thinks I need to have some surgery done to find out what's happened. Oh joy of joys. I so dearly love being crippled and having to go under the knife. As for the picture above, I had a similar one taken when I had the first operation done and I dare say that the one I'll get this time around will look a little similar. Notice the fibres of damaged knee meat floating around in there. When I get mine I'll be sure to post it.

I find out on Wednesday whats going to happen. Pray for me.

The two hours traffic of our scene

Ever since the late 1980's when the automobile was first introduced to roads across the globe, they have become increasingly popular amongst young and old alike. From the ages of 18 to 200, people are snapping up cars as if they were iPods and many people now consider their vehicle as being one of their most important assets.

For car manufacturing companies such as Ford or Kawasaki, this comes as terrific news. The president of Kawasaki, James Watson says, "This is a great time to be a car building guy. People see how mush easier life is when you have a car or a truck and they don't want to go back to horses or skateboards."

But this convenience Mr. Watson speaks of has come at a price. All over the world as car sales continue to rise, a new phenomenon the experts have dubbed as "traffic", is choking roads and highways and streets everywhere, significantly increasing travel time and driver unjoyment.

The cause of traffic is not as yet fully understood. Professor Kirk Rapenhardt of the University of Melbourne's newly established Faculty of Logistics is at a loss to explain what is actually causing traffic. "At the moment it is difficult to tell what is happening as this is such a new development, and quite frankly we really don't understand it," says Professor Rapenhardt.

When asked if he could shed any light on the situation at all, Rapenhardt replied, "Its almost as if there is not enough room on the roads to accomodate the amount of cars being used, but that is just speculation at this stage."

Scientists and environmental groups have also added that traffic is causing pollution. "The combined release of fumes from the hundreds of cars on the roads today is causing a thinnening of the ozone layer that surrounds the earth and protects us from the sun's harmful heavy metal music," says Doctor Robert Nafftwist of the National Atmospheric Research Institute (NARI). Though these claims have been dismissed by the pro-automobile associations.

RACV spokesman Kenneth Powell says, "This nonsense that cars are causing pollution is just scientific gobble-di-gook that no one understands. Besides, the marijuana cigarettes that those hippies smoke would release more pollution than any car ever could."

It is obvious that as cars become more and more prevalent in society, governments across the world will have to take measures to ensure that motor car use is regulated and controlled. Oil (the main ingredient of cars) should also be closely monitored as this natural resource could become a new major source of revenue.

As the dawning of the age of the motor car brightens our future, it is evident that maybe its not going to be all sugar and smiles.

An awful fright

Ever have one of those moments when you think something awful may have happened and there is no way to find out if it has?

Ever known the relief of finding out that nothing bad has happened at all and everyone is safe?

I hope so.

The Renaissance of Sadness

I'm driving around town today, working for my dad on the semester break. I have to visit the sixty plus service stations of a well known oil company around Melbourne. I have a map with each one's location marked by an insidious little red dot and when I get to one I have to fill out three forms then make a sketch of its layout. I thought that driving around by myself with the window down, listening to a few tunes and doing piss easy work would be a relaxing experience. How wrong I was.

I decide to start at the one furthest from my house, so the last one I do is the closest to home. I arrive at 8 o'clock in the morning. Rock up. Fill out the forms. Make a sketch. Leave. Too easy. The next one is only about a 5 minute drive away. Fill out the forms. Make a sketch. Leave. As I make my way to the third, it is at this point I realise something is wrong. I spot the giant logoed monolith looming on the horizon with its bloated prices and silly proclomations of nothing, and a gooey bubble of nausea fills my stomach and bursts. I would liken it to Satan blowing bubblegum from his arse.

I park the car and wonder about what has just happened. Maybe it was that off milk I've been drinking for the past week. Anyway, with some apprehension I enter the store and with squint eye request the sign in book. Fill out the forms. Make a sketch. Leave. Though as I left, the console operator spits a knowing smile in my direction that chills me to the bone. What the fucken hell was that? I get back in the car, have two cigarettes at once, turn the music up loud and centre myself. Hey! You're a cool guy, don't worry, everything will be OK.

The arrival at the forth is an experience I will never forget. It didn't have a giant corporate cock shooting out of the oil-stained concrete like the others. It is in an overcrowded suburban street where a giant corporate cock is inappropriate even for a multinational oil concern. It comes out of nowhere and the sight of it causes a wave of dread to wash over me like a tsunami of sewerage. I am stuck in an infinite loop of death from which there is no escape. This is the stuff of nightmares - travelling from one destination to another and discovering you've arrived at the same place from which you departed. The same international student asking you the same questions, the face-lacerating tedium of the red tape and the most cunting thing of all - the customers. I'd stab everyone of them mulitple times in the neck if I could.

I park the car then open the door and throw up everywhere. Have you ever seen the colours petroleum makes when it mixes with vomit? Beautiful. I make my way toward the den of impulse purchase and cold indifference, though the strain of the prolonged vomiting has weakened me somewhat so I am rather unsteady on foot. That coupled with the red eyes, the bulging neck veins and the string of saliva swaying from chin is no doubt a confronting sight for the console operator. I go about my business, crawling around the bowsers and crying and screaming at the customers filling their cars with the sweet vapour. At some point an offical looking person asks me to hurry up and leave, but a quick spit in his direction makes short work of him. I finish my dirty business and once again drive into the cyclonic, infinite loop, wondering where it will deposit me next. I know damn well where I'm going - the same place I've just been, but this it time it is going to be much worse (if that's possible). From now on I won't be wearing a seatbelt. Or a shirt. Grease me up you fuckers!!!

Luckily I'm getting paid handsomely to do this.

The day a new nation was born.

After much tinkering, this is the layout I have settled on. Maybe a bit more tinkering is required, though I'm not to sure how or why or when and so on...

At the moment this blog is the sound of a fly opening amongst a riot in a female prison - if heard, attention will be instantly mine, but its just too damn noisy out there for anyone to notice and so the zip will fall on ears filled with the cacophany of screaching and profanity that surrounds us everyday. Though if they did notice, they would probably just go back to their rioting.

I won't tell anyone if you don't

First post. Has it worked? We shall see soon enough.