Back (In the USSR)

I haven't posted anything in a while, because quite frankly I was sick of the whole blog thing. But google sent me a $75 ad voucher so I better start making this blog interesting so I can put up some ads on other websites.

PIXIES NEWS:

I have my ticket for the second Pixies show on the 28th, super stoked for it because the first show sold out in about half an hour and I'd basically lost all hope of seeing them, hope restored. The only thing I have to worry about now is how I'm going to get there and where I'm going to stay. A friend has offered to drive me but I think that he's already forgotten about that offer...

The ticket itself is beautiful isn't it, all silvery etc. Well, that was a long time about (when I bought the ticket that is) and a whole lot of other stuff has happened. I got a job working as a labourer for LAB concrete products (owned by my Uncle and Aunt) and it was fucking hard work. I eventually got used to it and even grew to love the job but I wanted something less difficult that also allowed me to sleep in. 2 months later, Chicken Treat (or the Dirty Bird depending on who you ask). The job is easy and the pay is the same as my old job, win.

I've also been very busy on the old eBay. I bought 9 gamecube games, 2 Xbox games, 2 PS2 games, four old 45 records and I have some bass guitar parts coming soon. I'll post individual blogs about the items I got with reviews and videos and the like.

Alright, that's all I can think of at the moment so I'll keep you (and by you I mean my girlfriend and my best friend who are the only people I can think who will actually read this) posted daily (hopefully) on all the latest news etc... Will I return to youtube as the kill of indie cinema ala Sam Raimi? Only time will tell, but probably not.

The Fucking Pixies are coming to Perth of March 27, It's for the 20th anniversary of Doolittle. FUCK YES! Doolittle tour. Even better is they are playing at the Belvior Amphitheater. Check this place out:



It's in the middle of the bush on a massive property, it's outdoors with 22 rows of those wooden things. FUCK! PIXIES! FUCKING PIXIES! LIVE! IN! PERTH! PIXIES!

The Pixies have never been good looking people, but here is them in the late 80's at the beginning of their careers, looking as good as they ever did.

If you don't like the Pixies, seriously what is wrong with you. PIXIES! REPENT! RE-P-ENT!

PEOPLE

People, People, Everybody People, Everybody making a sound...

but I totally wish that they wouldn't because this planet is noisy enough how it is.

Inglourious fucking Baterds

Is out in Australia on the 21st and I can't wait. I've seen a couple of the trailers today and it was awesome to see the fake Nation's Pride Trailer directed by Eli Roth. Nation's pride is the film within a film and gives me great hope that the actual fim will be Quentins best. Check this shit out!

Emotional Rant

Everytime I look around I see people. Always people. People laughing, people sighing, people going about their business unaware that someone is watching them. I realise that I am probably always being watched because I am always watching, and I don't consider myself to be any different from normal society so I think I can look to what I do to make those kind of assumptions. Isn't that logic? Making assumptions based on evidence? Sure it is.

I don't mind being watched, I used to strive on it but now I'd rather be appreciated by the people around me than by people I don't know. Not that I have many people around me. I'll need to work on that. Go to more parties, meet people. Stop meeting other people. I've been living for other people for a really long time, 3 years now, and I think it's time I started living for myself a little bit. Everyone thinks I'm selfish but they don't know what I've been through, not that it is any worse than what others have been through. I believe that whether it's an abusive family, death, or a couple of unkind words. It doesn't matter whats causes the pain it's how the person reacts to it that determines how damaging it is. My brother had cancer and was really sick and I kept the family together by keeping my emotions in check, holding them in, so they didn't have to worry about me as well. I was the rock and I've been other peoples unmoving, unemotional rock for a long time and it's made me bitter and angry. So fuck you and fuck the world I'm about to come out and be myself and have fun and do what I want to do for a change.

- about time, Judith O' Greene

Meth Lab for Bootie

Idea: Death Cab for Cutie hip-hop cover band, called Meth Lab for Bootie.

Key song: Title and Registration sounds great in my head as a hip-hop song, and so does I will Possess your Heart with a 5 and a half minute drum/bass/electronia instrumental opening.

Oh yeah, I'm gonna be famous

Yours arrogantly, Jude

my computer

fuck fuck cunt shit arse fucking piece of bastard fuck. My anger problem is second only to my inability to realse that anger properly. Fuck is the only swear word that gives me some form of release. Shit sounds too much like it, bit, brit, and doesn't feel powerful coming out of the mouth, it's an PIC way of saying "sick of it". Cunt while the rudest and most taboo of the swear doesn't feel good either, it's so overused in bogan culture and it sounds really stuntend and it's definately unenjoyable to say. Fuck is the only good swear word. The God of all profanities.

It can be used as a noun, a verb, an adjective and has more meanings that any other word in the world languages. It is also one of the only words that can be used or added to anything and not sound out of place. Fuck you. Get fucked. Big fucking deal. Let's fuck. Shove it up your fuck hole. Eat fuck. Fucking piece of fucked up fuckery!

- Get fucked, love Judy

Imagine: A short story (just under 500 words.)

I had a cassette tape in my hands, John Lennon's Imagine, which when opened reveals a stash of cigarettes. Held by the pegs in the middle of the cassette case was my lighter, white, with the words 'be happy' and a smiley face printed on the side. In the cover slot I had two self rolled cigarettes without filters, a Winfield stolen from my Dad's pack and a small plastic bag which contained a minute amount of marijuana which I stole from a party. The case was bound shut with a couple of elastic bands, and was usually found bound to my passport which is my main form of ID. The only two things I have on me at all times.

I go into my parent’s ensuite and rummage through the cabinet. The cabinet only really contains a few things but each thing has multiple versions of itself with flood the small cabinet and makes it near impossible to find what you want. I see a few hairdryers, I doubt any of them work, a broken mirror, numerous brushes and combs, empty plastic sheets with all the pills popped out of them, a lot of aftershave etc. etc.

I find a bag of cotton buds, most of them are brown and shrivelled and stuck together, which I figure is from some spillage. I take out the freshest looking one I can and pull off a few strands. I take my cassette case, take off the elastic band and pull out one of the filter-less cigarettes. I pull a bobby pin from my hair and use it to push the cotton bud down the paper funnel, which was originally going to be the filter until I realised now horrible it was.

I set outside and take a look at the full moon. It is in the middle of the night sky and completely surrounded by light grey clouds, the sky looks like a surrealist painting.

Behind the shed I take a drag on my cigarette and inhale deep, holding the smoke in my lungs. It begins to hurt but I don't care, my head begins to spin as I exhale triumphantly. I watch the tip of the cigarette burn orange as I inhale again. I look up at the night sky, at the perfect moon amongst the grey and blow smoke in that direction, obscuring my view for a second and making everything grey. I close my eyes and try to think of my happy place, then quickly open them again so I can enjoy my cigarette.

I'm sucking filter and my fingers are tinted a murky brown, but it doesn't matter. I stumble across the yard to the back door with an incredible feeling of peace and relaxation, for a second it doesn't even matter that smoking is slowly killing me. I close my eyes and fumble my way into bed and thank John Lennon that I'm alive.

Darkroom

I downloaded a type of word/notepad program tonight called Darkroom. The program is basically full screen (for zero distractions) with a black background and bright green font. It's very confrunting at first but within 30 seconds of using it I was writing something which I can now say is the only desent thing I've written in a while. Because of this I'd highly recommending it, especially if you like to write but always get distracted by MSN, or if you have to constantly check the time.

You can download it here.

Camp Photo

Love being a clown

Withnail and I

Withnail and I is an epicly great film in which every line is quotable. The movie was produced by George Harrison and is about two out of work actors, Withnail and I, who decide a trip to the country side will cure what ails them. With help from Withnail's flamingly homosexual uncle they achieve this goal only to regret it completely.

Withnail consumes so much alcohol during the film that a game has spawned in which you watch the film and match drink-for-drink everything Withnail does:

• Nine and a half glasses of red wine
• Half a pint of cider
• One shot of lighter fluid (vinegar or overproof rum are common substitutes)
• Two and a half shots of gin
• Six glasses of sherry
• Thirteen glasses of whisky
• Half a pint of ale.

It is assumed that drinking this much would be fatal, still if Enerest Hemmingway could drink the amount he did I'm sure it's at least possible to not die from it and to instead retain injuries from which you wish you were dead.

-Toodles

IMPORTANT!

Join the Lemon Political party, it'll change your life. Plus, they have mad after parties.

I really want to join or start a band, preferably start so I can have more input. I just want to put my lyric, bass and other music ideas to practice. It is very frustrating at the moment because my bass skill level is about a 6.5 out of 10.

I have pretty good fingering and I'm alright at plucking and using a pick. I'm pretty ok at playing other peoples music, but I can't really write my own bass lines (riffs yes) without other music around me. So, I jam with myself, I put on some music and listen in one headphone and write a new bass riff and pretend I'm the singer.

The other annoying thing about from my mediocrity at my instrument is the either amazing or horrible musical skill level around me. Play with crap people and it's bad, good people and it's really awkward because you get left out if you're shit. I need some semi-decent people who can play instruments.

Is that you? No? Shit, thought you used to play guitar? Oh, ok, that was the other (your name here).

I WANT TO EXPRESS MYSELF!

Band name ideas:

Quilt
Giant Squid
Good Day Sunshine
Meth Lab for Cutie
Guache
The Lennon/McCartney's
etc.

If that doesn't work out I can always go back to my job in the porn industry.

Strapped for music brillance?

Try these on for size:

HERE

Polyphonic Spree - Lithium (Nirvana cover)
[So Ironic I think it gave me cancer!]



Silversun Pickups - Panic Switch
[Fantastic voice and bass line]

HERE

Nine Inch Nails - The Great Destroyer
[Awesome dystopian song, fantastic electronica instrumental at the end]

HERE

Bjork - It's Oh So Quiet
[Fantastic Big Band crazy screaming sing-a-long-so-ng]

HERE

Beck - Think I'm in Love
[The usual Beck, which is fantastic! singing about being a teenager]



Vampire Weekend - A-Punk
[The worlds most polite indie rock band with the worlds most polite indie rock music]

HELP! (me out)

*p.s. Don't tell Adsense, this might be illegal