Guitar!!

Hmmm, another week gone by and I haven’t written anything. I suppose I’d better do something about that.

OK, so last Saturday was my birthday. The dinner at the Red Orchid was good, although Justin and Marika were a no-show (anyone really surprised?). Everyone seems to have had a good time, and the food was excellent. Even the service was passable for once which makes a change.

Things did take a slightly surreal turn when everyone decided to sing me happy birthday though. I hadn’t arranged a cake because – well it seems kind of weird to me to organise one’s own birthday cake (that’s probably symptomatic of living at home for so long or something :), and I always find the whole singing and blowing out candles thing an embarrassment anyway, so I was sort of hoping that with no cake to sing around everyone would just skip it. No such luck – they sang. Also since there were no candles to blow out I had to blow out an imaginary one stuck in the top of an empty champagne bottle. As if that wasn’t weird enough I then had to fake blowing out the imaginary candle since Andrew had failed to get a photograph the first time round. What the..?! πŸ™‚

Anyway afterwards Rebecca and Dom and I went and got gelatos and talked about Survivor Allstars before they dropped me home (they also gave me a lift there in the first place, which was nice of them :).

So, all in all a good night.

I had dinner with the parents and aunts the next night, which was good except it had got close to 40 earlier in the day and Mum insisted on us eating around the table in the (uninsulated) dining room rather than buffet style in the much cooler loungeroom. I had to keep getting up and fleeing into the relative cool of the lounge throughout the meal just to cope. Next year I think I might specify a buffet πŸ™‚

Anyway I suppose I’d better post a list of what loot I managed to score πŸ™‚

  • From Aunty Mary in England – Some Tupperware
  • From Rebecca and Dom – A large non-stick frying pan
  • From Katie – Some chocolates and a Lord of the Rings bookmark
  • From Ryan – A Games Workshop Sauron figurine
  • From Andrew and Travis – The first season of Futurama on DVD
  • From Mum and Dad – A Short History of Almost Everything by Bill Bryson
  • From Aunts Faye and Bev – A new vegetable steamer and non-stick pasta saucepan
  • From the Cousins – Some candy in a 50’s era Coke machine styled tin box

I think that’s about it – not bad considering πŸ™‚

Since then I’ve pretty much been taking it easy. Well, apart from being extremely nice to a woman in Sydney who needed last minute tickets to see Infected Mushroom on the Gold Coast for her son, and needed them like yesterday (managing the online sales for Earthcore is getting to be more trouble that it’s worth πŸ™‚

Well, I was taking it easy until yesterday when I went out and bought myself a number of things.

Firstly I got a new pair of boots as my old ones had developed a large split along the sole -which meant that I either had to but new ones or a whole load of black socks. This presented a slight problem as for years I’ve been buying my boots from the Discount Shoe Sale place in the city, down the back of King Kong Sales (yes, yes, that’s a very uncool place to buy anything from but you could usually find a good pair of boots there that would last two or three years and cost thirty dollars so nyaaaah!! :). Now – because of the Mandurah Railway project – that entire city block is going to be demolished, so everything (including King Kong and the Discount Shoe Sale) has been closed down (although there are a few die-hards living siege style in their stores until the Government pays them decent compensation – cool no?).

So I had to find somewhere else to buy shoes.

I also wanted to move into the 20th century (some years late, but what the heck) and buy a microwave – because I’m sick of surviving on sandwiches and pot-noodles when the mercury climbs above 36. I was looking at ones on sale at Myer because I had $25 of gift vouchers left over from Christmas (from the aforementioned Aunty Mary) – but then Rebecca pointed out that K-Mart were selling some at only $99 each. She also mentioned that they were pretty good for shoes, so I decided to head over to the Galleria and kill two birds with one stone. Oh – three actually because they have a Myer there and I decided to buy a CD.

I was tossing up between the Mountain Goats’ We shall all be Healed and the Darkness’ Permission to Land. I eventually decided on the latter since I really really want the former and am hence much more likely to spend my own money on it at some point (if I bought it with the vouchers then I probably wouldn’t get around to buying Permission to Land because while I wanted it I didn’t really want it enough to use $30 of my own hard earned cash to buy it – all clear? No? Good! πŸ™‚

(As it happened it was priced at $24.99, so that worked out well πŸ™‚

So, I am now the proud owner of a pair of ex-display boots (they’re exactly my size and only cost $30 – woot!), a 800 watt 20 litre microwave oven and a copy of Permission to Land. Each of which I shall deal with separately below.

The Boots: Um… well there’s not a lot to say about these. They’re leather, brown and have all sorts of funky looking metal studs and hooks and things all over them. I haven’t worn them yet – I’ll do that tomorrow – and I fully expect they’ll give me appalling blisters.

This isn’t anything to do with the shoes themselves, it’s to do with some very shoddy coding in my genome. Apparently whoever was responsible for writing my DNA skimped a bit on the feet, leaving me with foot ligaments too big for my foot bones. This means that whenever I try and use my feet – for instance to stand or maybe walk – rather than form into the classic arch shape, they splay out flat. This in turn means that the width to length ratio of my feet is much lower than normal and hence a shoe that fits me widthwise is way too big lengthwise, resulting in large amounts of forward-back shifting during walking and hence blistering.

Although it does mean people can stand on the toes of my shoes without me noticing πŸ™‚

(By the way don’t get me started on the DNA for my ears. Or my fat metabolism. Actually on any part of my genome. In fact when I consider all the problems with this body I strongly suspect that my DNA was compiled as an end of year project by an un-gifted first year who spent most of the semester drinking and going to frat parties rather than hitting the books. I’d give him a C-, but that’s purely because I haven’t died yet)

The Microwave: The microwave is cool. So far I’ve cooked two things in it. A microwaveable pasta dinner that I brought specifically to christen it with, and a toasted cheese sandwich. The pasta was great. The cheese sandwich on the other end had some problems – specifically that the only microwave safe container I had to put it in was a bowl, and I overcooked it somewhat. This resulted in the cheese bubbling up like crazy in all directions then setting in a kind of porous matrix in the shape of the bowl. It was completely edible and in fact quite tasty – it just happened to look like a component from the engine room of a Klingon Bird of Prey, that’s all πŸ™‚

Permission to Land by the Darkness: I wanted a copy of this because of the songs Black Shuck (which I carried on about in an earlier entry) and Growing on Me which – well has been growing on me frankly. So I bought it, and have listened to it twice. My opinion?

The Darkness are a truly horrible horrible band who perform absolutely appalling songs.

I should probably clarify that πŸ™‚

Yes, they’re a horrible band who sing truly awful songs – but the point is that they know this. And so they don’t bother to pretend that they’re anything else. They just dress up in spandex and fake leopard skin and camp it on stage like complete and utter glam-rock dorks – and have a fantastic time doing it. This attitude is captured perfectly in their songs – so although they’re really terrible (c’mon, when was the last time you heard anyone not just yell ‘Guitar!!’ but yell ‘Guitar!!’ and follow it up with a thirty second guitar solo? πŸ™‚ they’re having so much fun that it’s infectious. When Justin Hawkins hits the high notes you can’t help but break into a spontaneous grin at the sheer stupidity of it all, and before long you’re trying to join in, and having a great time (even though you’re failing miserably πŸ™‚

Or maybe that’s just me? πŸ˜‰

Anyway, as far as I’m concerned the Darkness Rock!!

Hmmm, I’ve got other stuff to write about – but I think I’ll leave it for later. Like next Sunday for instance πŸ™‚

Oh, but before I go as may have been noticed by some I’ve dropped the whole Intransigent DNA Influenced Cute Woman of the Week thing because I’m bored with it – and some weeks it’s a pain to have to find someone to nominate *g*. That said however I happened to catch the video clip for Stella One Eleven’s new single last week and the lead singer (Cindy Ryan is it?) looks so insanely cute that I just have to – well, say that she looks insanely cute in that particular video clip πŸ˜‰

Mind you at least some of the members of Stella One Eleven are gay. I don’t actually know which members but with my luck Cindy is one of them. Which is no doubt great for her, but somewhat depressing for me *g*. I don’t really know why that should actually be depressing – I mean assuming for a minute that she’s straight then my odds of actually a) meeting her and b) us hitting it off are virtually nil anyway – her theoretically not being straight really doesn’t affect them at all. But for some reason it’s still rather disheartening. Hmmm, probably some messed up male ego thing. Well how about that, I’m as screwed around as every other guy after all! ;-D

GUITAR!!

I am Pythagoras! I have inside me blood of Kings!

That was fun. I just spent over half an hour trying to solve algebraic equations for some programming I’m doing. It was to do with scaling right angled triangles up and down -keeping the same angles but making the sides longer or shorter. Essentially I had the length of all the sides of the larger triangle and the length of hypotenuse for the smaller triangle and needed to find the length of the rest of the smaller triangle’s sides. So I started messing around with Pythagoras’s theorem to see if I could come up with a nice simple formula to do it.

After covering several sheets of scrap paper with frenzied scribbling I managed to come up with the following, where x and y are the non-hypotenuse sides of the large triangle, and a and b the corresponding sides of the small triangle…

x = ((((b*b)-1)/a)/b)*y

(That may not even be correct πŸ™‚

After struggling for quite some time trying to get this into slightly more manageable format (hey, it’s been over a decade since I did any hard-core algebra πŸ™‚ I realised that I was basically trying to single handedly derive sine and cosine – no wonder my head was exploding!

So as soon as I go online and look up how to use sine and cosine (it’s also been a decade since I did any geometry or trig OK?) my problem will be solved.

Anyway today is my birthday. Boo! Hooray! Boo! Hooray! (call me when you’re finished). So, what did I get? A coldsore. Well OK, I didn’t get that specifically because it was my birthday – not unless my own body really is out to get me – but one did pop into existence mid Thursday, just in time to look all ghastly and embarrassing at the Red Orchid tonight. I’ve been treating it with Zovirax at about twice the recommended dosage, but it’s still hanging around dagnabit.

Actually the mini pump pack of Zovirax I was using ran out last night, just before I went to bed. I didn’t want to go to bed without putting some more on, so I decided to cut the pack open with a craft knife and scrape out what little was left. Unfortunately this didn’t work, so anyone breaking in last night at about 10:30 would have been greeted by the bizarre sight of me standing in the loungeroom in my pyjamas attacking the thing with a hacksaw πŸ™‚

I eventually managed to cut it open – and frankly I was shocked. A pump pack of Zovirax is a cylinder five centimetres or so long with a diameter of about one centimetre. On cutting it open however you discover that most of that space is solid plastic, and you’re paying $13.95 for a tiny vial suspended in the middle that can’t possibly contain more than about 1.5 cubic centimetres of the stuff. Rip off!!

This vial was completely empty, however the change in air pressure caused by my cutting into the internal cavity allowed the last few dregs caught up in the pump mechanism to escape – meaning I could put some on before I went to bed and then again when I got up this morning. Then I walked into Maylands and bought some generic Zovirax for $10.00 which I’ve been applying all day. The coldsore’s still there though – I’ll just have to hold a menu up over my face all night or something πŸ™‚

Anyway, in addition to turning 28 and trying to re-invent trigonometry I’ve also burned a music CD today and covered it in mouldy tomato juice. No, I haven’t gone insane (or at least if I have it didn’t start just today) I’m trying to replicate the research of this guy. Well, when I say “replicate the research” I actually mean just create some weird and freaky sounds. I can’t remember exactly what I put on the CD, but I know the following tracks were featured…

  • Alec Eiffel – The Pixies
  • Debaser – The Pixies
  • All for Swinging You Around – The New Pornographers
  • 99 Luft Balloons (German Version) – Nena
  • Reseda Casino – Shivaree
  • The Cheesecake Song – King Missile
  • Brandenburg Concerto Number 2 Allegro – J.S.Bach
  • The Triple J Breakfast Pigeon Song

So, the results should be interesting. For the mould primer I’ve used using a mixture of sugar water, the juice of a mouldy tomato I found in the fridge and some dregs from the bottom of an old vegemite jar (for those extra b-group vitamins). The CD is currently resting on top of the fridge, and if I get a good growth of mould – and if it’s actually playable at the end of the process – I’ll probably post some sound files.

Shanen Noll is at number one? ARRRRRGHGHGGHG!!!!! Worst – Birthday – Ever!!!!!! πŸ˜‰

From the school of Extreme Sarcasm…

Recipe for a hit R’n’B song

  1. Hit the pedal of a base drum once, and record it. Loop this at a rate of 30bpm.
  2. Select a hit song of the last forty years. Fast forward to a section with either horns or piano. Select a two or three note sequence at random and loop this incessantly over the base drum.
  3. Hire some guy who couldn’t make it in the hip-hop scene to mumble lyrics about sex and money over the top, punctuated (seemingly at random) by strange grunting noises.
  4. If it’s still missing something, hire a female backup singer to make high pitched warbling sounds and orgasmic moans at appropriate intervals.

Congratulations! You’ve just recorded your first top 20 R’n’B hit!

Fu-Bar’ Says it all really…

You know, I’ve come to a decision. I am no longer going to watch The Secret Life of Us.

Secret Life used to be on at 8:30 on Mondays, but for some reason they’ve moved it to 9:30 on Wednesdays. This isn’t hugely inconvenient – I mean if I was feeling tired I could always tape it – but it’s enough of an inconvenience to start me questioning whether the show is actually worth it. And I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not.

Alex (Claudia Karvan) has gone. Miranda (Abi Tucker) has gone and – in a reversal of my usual policies regarding hair colour – I thought she looked better as a blonde anyway. Gab (Sybilla Budd is it?) has turned into a politician. Evan (Samuel Johnson – the guy who does voice overs for Hungry Jacks) has turned into a complete prat (ummm actually I think he was always a complete prat, I just hadn’t noticed before). Christian (buggered if I know who plays him) has become a Scientologist. Richie (ditto) has turned all arrogrant and keeps running around in a dog suit. The Fu-Bar’s been completely redesigned and the only character even worth bothering with anymore is Kelly (Deborah Mailman) – and as likable as Kelly is she’s just not enough to keep me watching.

Of course there’s a whole bunch of new characters to replace everyone who’s left, but I really can’t be bothered putting in the effort to get to know them. Particularly given that the only notable thing about them seems to be that one of them has a particularly large schlong.

So, I’ll just find a copy of Death Defy on CD and reclaim an hour of my life each week πŸ™‚

Oh, and on another note I’m getting a lot of spam advertising ‘Super Viagra’ that ‘lasts all weekend’. Wouldn’t that be a bit…. um, inconvenient? πŸ™‚

Cyclones, lightning, black dogs and ammunition

Wow, talk about your weird weeks.

This week’s particular weirdness all comes down to the weather. Starting on about Sunday we got into one of our standard summertime north-easterly air streams. This of course meant that (since the air in question was coming out of the central deserts) temperatures started to rise. Nothing too unusual about that, it’s fairly normal summer weather here in Perth. What was unusual was another factor that combined with the standard pattern to…. well you’ll see.

The other factor was Tropical Cyclone Fritz (that’s Hurricane Fritz or Typhoon Fritz depending on where you are in the world). This comparatively mild cyclone had hit the north west coast earlier in the week, and it’s remnants were smeared across the middle of the continent, right in the path of the air stream heading for Perth. This meant that rather than picking up its usual allocation of hot dry desert air, the easterly grabbed hold of vast amounts of hot, moist tropical air, and dumped it all on the city. The result? Instead of just the temperature shooting upwards – as is usual under these conditions – the humidity started to go up, and just kept on going up to absolutely insane levels.

I don’t have exact figures on the temperatures and humidity reached, as I spent most of the week in a heat and sleep deprived induced trance, but I can say with certainty that Monday and Tuesday were over 40

Take that Cupid! (Bop shoowap waaa-ooo!)

JOHN 2/14 – Shivaree

It’s so romantic,
The neighborhood’s littered with white gloves,
The flowers were hand picked,
They’re taping up paper doves,

And it’s hard to think,
When everything’s red and pink,
It’s hard to eat,
When everything’s sweet,

I guess it’s just the perfect time to send some roses,
And touch their noses,
And buy them things,
Because it’s such a tender time for all the ladies,
With all those babies,
Wearing their wings,

Could you be mine?
And hot stuff and maybe and foxy and fine?
Swallow your red hots,
And order the fancy wine,

And if you please,
Just bring me some honey I’ll send for the bees,
You throw your rice,
It feeds the mice,

I guess it’s just the perfect time to send some roses,
And touch their noses,
And buy them things,
Because it’s such a tender time for all the ladies,
With all those babies,
Wearing their wings,

You’ve gotta run,
They hate it when you’re too quiet,
And it’s always fun,
To close up until they buy it,

I guess it’s just the perfect time to send some roses,
And touch their noses,
And buy them things,
Because it’s such a tender time for all the ladies,
With all those babies,
Wearing their wings,

For reference purposes….

John 2/14: And found in the temple those that sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers of money sitting

You figure it out πŸ˜‰

Bitter Diatribe :)

The month of February always reminds me of the family holidays we used to go on down to Bunbury.

Way way back in the dim past we had some family friends living down there – the Fields. The parents were both librarians and they had two kids – Katherine, around the same age as my brother and I, and Toby, a few years younger. Their sprawling house on the outskirts of town was absolutely packed to the gills with books, and had a huge overgrown yard, complete with a pond full of ducks and geese. We’d eat fresh duck eggs for breakfast, go to the beach, sit around and read, and listen to possums crawl around in the roof at night. It was great. The only thing that wasn’t great was the journey down.

To get to Bunbury from Perth you need (or at least used to need) to go through Kwinana – the industrial strip along the shores of Cockburn Sound. This wasn’t too much of a hassel – it was ugly sure, but it only took an hour or so to get through – apart from one brief stretch where the road went past a fertiliser plant.

Fertiliser plants stink. They stink like you could not possibly believe. All the nitrates create an unholy, nauseating stench that threatens to bring up your lunch. Even with all the windows wound up and the vents closed the foul odour would fight its way into the car and hang around for a good half hour before finally vanishing. It was a part of the journey we dreaded, but was necessary to get down to Bunbury and see our friends.

So why does this remind me of February? Because in order to get to the pleasantness of my birthday at the end of the month, I first have to get past Valentines Day, which while it may not actually stink is certainly just as unpleasant and unavoidable.

Of course this year it’s not too bad. The dreaded 14th is a Saturday meaning that I can stay indoors and listen to MP3s all day and not have to put up with every single shop window and radio station reminding me of the fact that while the rest of the world has a fantastic time I personally have absolutely nothing to celebrate. As always. Bah!

I think I’ll spend tomorrow emptying the bins and updating my details on the electoral roll. I might even defrag my hard drive again. That’ll teach that little bastard cupid! πŸ™‚

Anyway, with that dealt with onto other stuff. Like Charmed for instance which returned to our screens last week.

Well, I suppose firstly I should admit that I was wrong. They didn’t kill Leo. They just banished him to Valhalla, which against all pre-existing evidence appears to be an uncharted tropic isle somewhere in the Indian Ocean (surprisingly close to the British Indian Ocean territory actually, which may explain why the Yanks don’t like anyone visiting Diego Garcia). There the Valkyries stuck him in a flimsy bamboo cage and made him dress up like Russell Crowe in Gladiator and fight people, which is kind of weird for a suposed pacifist (he kept saying things like ‘I’ve changed’ as if it explained anything). Apparently there’s some kind of conspiracy going on between the girls’ new white lighter (…some white lighter the guy can’t even heal sounds like a warlock if you ask me…) and a valkyrie, which led to all this. I’m as baffled as anyone.

In any case the girls eventually managed to track him down, and get him out of said flimsy bamboo cage, although that supposed white lighter had to kill three Valkyries to get them there (not that they realise this, he’s keeping all the evil stuff under wraps). They also had to temporarily kill Darryl, without his permission I might add which is frankly a bit towards the dark side if you ask me. Anyway all this killing let them grab Leo and escape – although Piper went all weird (or at least weirder than normal) and got left behind. Some warriors also escaped from Valhalla and started killing people at random for no good reason at all – this lead to a whole lot of confusion and running around and Piper becoming not just a Valkyrie but a biker Valkyrie (this was pretty stupid, but at least the soundtrack guys had some fun with it by scoring them roaring down the street like Hell’s Angels to Ride of the Valkyries :). In the end of course everything turned out OK, although it’s hard to say exactly why. Piper kicked Leo out of the house, Phoebe’s now an empath and Paige is dating a dog – you know, normal Charmed type stuff.

Um…. what else? CSI is back! Hooray! Grissom (not ‘Grisham’ as I was spelling his name previously – my bad) apparently grows a beard this season. No sign of it yet, but it’s early days. Personally I think William Peterson did it so people would stop mistaking him for … um one of the guys running for the Democrat endorsement – Howard Dean maybe? There’s a banner add floating around the net for him anyway and the resemblance is just uncanny. Grissom for President I say! πŸ™‚

(A CSI Administration, now that would be cool. Catherine could be VP, Sara could be Secretary of State, Warwick and Nick could be Presidential Advisors or Press Secretaries and Greg… well I dunno he could head up the CIA or Pentagon or something. Couldn’t do a worse job than they’re doing already)

OK, going to shut up now πŸ™‚

PS:

BOO-YA!!!! πŸ˜€

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