Trysting Fields

Stuff I Did This Year

In a nutshell: systematically climbed the fuck out of hell. Again. (See previously: 2005; 2007; 2009.)

And it's good! Can't complain.

:)

"Friends - you know who you are; you know we're grateful." - Blur, 1993. (Seriously. If ever a year was about Who Your Real Friends Are, it was 2011.)

Similarly, those who have fucked me up and fucked me over this year most likely know who they are also, and possibly how I feel about this (hint: angry, bewildered and sad) - with the possible exception of the Rt Hon Lord Mayor of Melbourne Robert Doyle (note contact details), who I strongly suspect does not have any idea who I am.

(I also doubt he reads this blog. But since it just can't be said often enough I might as well take this opportunity to (re)state, for the record: Robert Doyle, you're a fucking cunt. You really are.)

The bulk of this year's SIDTY post I rendered in audio format at the coast a few nights ago. It goes into a bit more detail (although, to be honest, not all that much). Enjoy:

Vale 2011. Viva 2012.

Happy new year!

Tentmonster Rally

Saturday, 10th December.

Footage of (failed) police raid the same night here (207 MB).

Obligatory Birthday Party Post

Saturday, 24th September.

An epic time was, needless to say, had.

The Patrick Porter award for the best present and best guest overall goes to Kirrily. The prize for the most perverse guests goes to the Keith! Party crew - comprising on this occasion Talkshow Boy, 2-SHEE, Hot God, Gezus and entourage including Ms C. C*ulter (alias unknown) - who turned up unfashionably early, immediately occupied what would normally be the dancing room and systematically set about turning it into a chillout room. WTF. (NB: And it was *great*.)

Prize for the most long-lost-but-pleasingly-now-seemingly-regained former CH party regular goes to Vicwie. Prize for the best guest who wasn't able to attend physically but who came in essence goes, as always, to Wads. Prize for the best autographed copy of Kafka's "Metamorphosis" and best Tasweigan mafia attaché goes to Doktor Midnight aka The Dan Cross Revolution. Prize for the best drug by almost universal consensus goes to nitrous oxide.

Prize for the most gobsmacking act of delusionality - not to mention the most concerted but nevertheless pathetically unsuccessful attempt to ruin a birthday party of mine in the history of the world - goes to the profoundly fucked in the head disappointing Ms G. Rouse. Prize for the most departing housemate of three years goes to Grim$ha.

Prize for the most heroically tenacious still-recovering-from-her-own-birthday-shenanigan-the-previous-night attendee and all-round best MC-Ren-would-you-please-give-your-testimony-to-the-jury-about-this-fucked-up-incident regaliousness goes to Toots.

Special award for the mouthiest ho goes, as it generally does, to Kat (see audio, below).

Extra special thanks to, y'know, everyone else. Seriously.

(Previously; previously; previously.)

Dinner Party V

Saturday 17th July.

Most fiasco-tastic DP evar! It's been a bit like that lately. I almost gave up and cancelled it. But I'm very glad I didn't, coz despite all kinds of stupid problems in the end it still went OFF.

(10:21pm; 4min 59sec)

Amongst other things, the DPP planning committee encountered considerable guestlist difficulty. Despite and at least partly because of no less than three date changes aimed at accommodating them all and genuine enthusiasm from at least some quarters, exactly none of the invitees I'd originally lined up ultimately managed to make it.

(10:55pm; 1min 17sec)

Which might have been considered a fairly abject fail - were it not for the inspiringly circus-saving company of previous-attendee legends who, in flagrant violation of DPP rules, valiantly braved the cold and brought the awse instead: Matt K (DPs I and III), Twyllan (DP II), Henley (DP III), Sarah aka The Major (DP IV), Pablo (DPP virgin), Luke (DP IV), and of course Grimsey (DPs I, II, III and IV). Fucken <3.

(12:24am; 4min 28sec)

It was an unprecedentedly structured DP. As per a preestablished order of proceedings there was soup, then salad, then pie, then the merciless destruction and defilement of an old chair that had unforgiveably given way under DP I alumnus Bourkie at CH the night before. Then, naturally, muffins.

(1:16am; 2min 26sec)

Along the way there were tears (not really); there was laughter. It was epic.

(2:34am; 2min 49sec)

:)

Friday 2nd July.

Stuff I Did This Year

This year was all about recovery. It started out in the absolute pits of hell, slowly got better, and - a few ickle problems here and there aside, but whatcha gonna do - ended all up in unmitigated gnarley.

Result.

As per last year I feel more like talking about people than doings or accomplishments. Specifically, and without wanting to get too gushy, all the people who've helped me in all their various ways to remember what the whole circus is about. Really forgot for a while there. Fucken' sucked.

So couldn't have done it without yiz.

Thanks. Seriously.

• Mum, Dad & Jess.
• Ben.
• Despite - and partly because of - some serious difficulties, Liv (and co).
• Henley.
• On an obscure tip: Martha, Dolly, Magnus, Tim, my secret admirer, and the other Barn*by Ev*ns on Facebook.
• Li.
• Nada A.
• Nada Z (nb not technically a person, but we'll let it slide).
• Em & co.
• Kav. Georgie. Twyllan. Kinkel. Vicwie. Sims. Brendan. Zanella. The Major. Freedman. 2003 & co. And all the countless other people at/from my thankfully now-former work who are fucking awesome. But most especially them.
• Relatedly: motorscooting Keith! Party and associates - most especially Bourkie, and Carol. We don't really know Trajstman yet - but you may rest assured we intend to.
• Cel.
• Freakley.
• Mr Ad*m F*rd (not the poet), and Mr D. Allan.
• Grimsey.
• Gab, obvs, and associates not previously mentioned, especially Pets & Dech (+ Scott, Ewan, Chirsp etc etc etc).
• And last, but the exact opposite of least: Ms M. F. "prog081" Evans and associates, esp. Kat, Hayley, Fran & co, Ange & Chloe.

The admittedly sometimes finite limitations of my resources notwithstanding, these people can - at any time, and to whatever extent they may deem necessary and/or desirable - stand the fuck under my umbrella.

I'd also like to extend a really colossal, biblical-epic-stylez "fuck you" to one or two other individuals whose selfish, infantile cuntishness and astonishing lack of Vision (tm), conversely, reeeallly hasn't helped. Anyone. But I won't. It won't help. We can only have faith that in time they will grow the hearts, brains, spines and souls they surprisingly appear to lack.

Having A Soul: It's Good.

:)

Happy new year.

Presents I Got Given

As requested. (Previously.)

• A tin of bacon & egg-themed bandaids in assorted shapes & sizes
• Some plastic flies
• A copy of Mr Nonsense
• A spliff
• A packet of Starburst Babies
• A box of hot cinnamon gum bearing the legend "OH GOD I AM SO TOTALLY WASTED" (the preceding six items all from Patrick. Frikken legend; I only gave him a - y'know, nicely wrapped - lemon from my lemon tree and made him a card for his birthday.)
• A packet of Marlboro Menthols
• A bottle of cabernet merlot
• Two sticks of Kinder chocolate
• A tin of wasabi peas (mmm, wasabi peas)
• A glass bubble with bubbles in it costing $8.75 (heh, bubbles)
• A pair of new shoes (which I desperately needed)
• The perfect bedside lamp (beautifully inscribed)
• A blindfolded trip to the Werribee Open Range Zoo - and a lovely picnic and a lovely dinner gathering - with assorted awesome peeps, from a chick who likes animals
• An M2M CD of mysterious provenance
• A photo of a train passing through rural surrounds at night that only one other person apart from the person who sent it to me has seen
• A four-and-a-half minute voicemail that I will keep for ever and ever
• 60% of an iPhone paid off over two years (which I haven't actually picked up yet, because I don't want it to be cursed by association with the world of shit that was the apocalyptic writeoff week I've just had)
• Several very nice cards
• A bottle of black nailpolish
• Another bottle of black nailpolish

These last two items are particularly timely & appreciated.

Birthday

It's certainly been a memorable one. I liked it much better than last year's.

Prize for the best party guest overall goes to Patrick. Prize for the most liable for nothing party guest is a three-way tie between Shane, The Sorcha, and, of course, Coburg.

Prize for the best party guest who wasn't there physically but came in essence goes to Wads. Prize for the most missed party absentee is a tie between Em and this chick. Prize for the best party guest who did attend physically, but who I unfortunately never actually got around to talking to is a three-way tie between Li, Kav, and The Major. Prize for the best (if maybe in hindsight somewhat regrettable) picture of a My Little Cthulhu Bunny goes to Magnus.

Prize for the most devastating headfuckery goes to my housemate & ex-fiancee. Prize for the most comically hypocritical abusive emails goes to Henley. Prize for the most awesome drunken deep & meaningful alleyway convo goes to Liv. I'm not sure what exactly to award the artist formerly known as Semi, but I suspect he deserves a prize of some kind - or that if he doesn't now, he may well before too long.

Prize for the most broken nose goes to Luke. Prize for the most blood cheerfully & unsolicitedly cleaned up as a result of a broken nose goes to Harrie. Prize for the driest one-liners (always) and best wildlife photography goes to Ramm. Prize for the best shisha lesson goes to Nichk. Prize for the heterosexual male with the most sophisticated understanding of little girls' pop music (and also the special award for getting locked in the enclosed garden off my bedroom by a psycho chick person I'm sure is lovely once you get to know her, and then being too wasted to think of calling someone to let him out) goes to Grimsey.

Prize for the best nail-painting (and best former housemate ever) goes to Cel. Prize for the best hungover breakfast-making and tidying up goes to Kat. Prize for the oldest and most enduring friend goes to Bentendo. Prize for the best anonymous benefactor goes to whoever sent me the copy of M2M's second album I found in my mailbox yesterday.

Prize for the best present (y'know, apart from causing me to be born in the first place and shit) goes to my parents.

Prize for the best sister in the entire fucking world goes to this bitch.

Prize for the best mistress (and inexpressible amounts of gratitude & love) goes to Schnozzie.

Thanks, everyone.

Party IV

Went off.

Oh, what a mess! Though. Liable for mess.

Also, someone stole my weed. I'm a bit unhappy about that. But that's what I get for leaving it unattended in the garden.

So it goes. It was all worth it. Hooray for parties.

Yeah, Y'know? It's Wednesday & I Needed Something To Post About etc

(It is All About The Blog[*].)

I was also feeling a bit stinky and jaded about people including but not limited to myself, and for both of these reasons it was all quite serendipitous and I-heart-the-universe that a much beloved friend chose yesterday to give me a semi-random present which - although a relatively small thing in itself - was both a :)-inducing gesture, and well-novel and blogworthy and shit.

It's a pocket edition of Twister in the form of a little plastic box, with the spinner on the front and the dots - which are about the size of fifty-cent coins - stashed in a sliding drawer underneath. It conveniently doubles as a keyring.

(Unfortunately I've now, almost immediately, gone and lost it. So I can't post a picture like I was planning to. I have to make do with words, which is unfortunate coz I'm kind of over them. But so it goes.)

It's not very practical. If you wanted to play, you'd also have to be carrying some kind of adhesive to fix the tiny dots in place on the ground, or wherever. It's hard to see the whole thing working out. But that doesn't matter.

Without wanting to go into benevolence overload and make everybody throw up: hooray for semi-random presents, and those rare people who bring us nothing but goodness generally. Yay for things that make us happy. Even if only passingly so in some cases.

Life is transitory. Yes it is.

In other news, my jury selection hearing today went well, in the sense that as chance would have it I was not selected to serve on an actual jury.

In a way I was disappointed; it might have been an interesting experience. But I can't really afford the time off work. Stupid needing money to live etc.

Now I am going to bed, because between one thing and another I'm so sleep deprived that I'm starting to hallucinate.

Good night.

[*] NB It's so not really All About The Blog[**].

[**] Although I do love my blog.