Category Archives: Discombobulation
Filed under Art, Audio, Discombobulation, Drunkenness, Mysteries, Nothing, People, Photos, the walls are mushy
Friday Morning
New Notebook / Thursday Night
Filed under Art, Audio, Desperation, Discombobulation, Drunkenness, Liable For Everything, Liable For Nothing, People, Photos, Self Analysis, Weblogs, Whack
Canberra Redux (Two)
Sunday.
Sunday.
Filed under Audio, Discombobulation, Drunkenness, Here Is The News, History, Illusion Of Time, People, Photos, Sadness, Travel
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.
Filed under Awesomeness, Benevolence, Discombobulation, Food and Drink, People, Sadness, Swings & Roundabouts, w0ot, Whack
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.
Filed under Awesomeness, Benevolence, Chaos, Current Affairs, Discombobulation, Domestica, Drunkenness, Heh, Here Is The News, It'll All Come Good, Liable For Nothing, Life Is Good, Night Time, People, silly humans *rolls eyes* etc, Swings & Roundabouts, Use Of A Telephone For A Fictitious Purpose, w0ot, Whack, What Kind Of Fuckery Is This
Interlude: Massacre.
Oy.
I regret burning W******. And I wish I could have been a better friend to Gab.
But what I feel really terrible about is taking J out for what should – by all rights – have been a night of awesomeness, and then exposing her to all that horror. Last fucking thing on earth that she needed.
EPIC FAIL.
Oh well.
ION: Still need a B#6.
Filed under Chaos, Cunts, Current Affairs, Discombobulation, Evil, Misanthropy, People, Sadness, Terribleness, Whack, What Kind Of Fuckery Is This
Chez Hagakure Tea & Pizza Shapes Meet
Filed under Art, Audio, Benevolence, Bitches, Chaos, Cryptography, Cunts, Discombobulation, Domestica, Food and Drink, Genius, Hate, History, Illusion Of Time, Liable For Nothing, Life Is Good, Nothing, People, Philosophica, Photos, Self Analysis, Weblogs
Most Fucked Up Easter Ever (Y’know, In A Good Way)
So there I was, attending an uncivilised picnic in the park on Royal Parade, having a perfectly nice time & minding my own and a select handful of other peoples’ business when who should call me completely out of nowhere on my – which is to say, someone else‘s – mobile telephony device but the J-meister.
(Previously.)
We hadn’t spoken in the voice since November, when I drunkenly and unsolicitedly facilitated her and Henley‘s first ever verbal exchange. She’s been in the country three weeks, apparently. Now she & the H-Dogg were in my hood. And they wanted to hang.
Headfuck!
The tone of her voice didn’t make me feel like something she’d just scraped off her shoe, which was nice. So, throwing caution to the wind as I am wont to do on occasion, I went.
We met at Alia. We talked. We danced. A good time was had. It seems like we’re all friends now. Which is totally what I wanted, although if you’d asked me twelve hours ago I’d have said this outcome seemed less likely than [insert comedy incredibly unlikely occurrence which in practice will never ever happen here]. They’re totally coming to my housewarming and shit.
I don’t know what else to say about all of this, but if ever something seemed blogworthy etc.
Hooray for drugs; hooray for Jebus.
Despite my cynicism regarding his religion(s), I am a fan of the man’s work. That cunt was liable for nothing.
Rainbow Serpent (Part 2)
Filed under Art, Audio, Benevolence, Boogie Fever, Cryptography, Discombobulation, Dreams, Drugs, Evil, Found, Genius, Here Is The News, Illusion Of Time, Liable For Nothing, Muntedness, Mysteries, Night Time, Nothing, People, Photos, Self Analysis, Signs Of The Apocalypse, some do it fast, some do it better in smaller amounts, The Liberator Who Destroyed My Property Has Realigned My Perceptions, the walls are mushy, These Hippies Are Not Messing Around, Travel, w0ot
Okay.
It’s a bit hard to to know where to start.
*thinks*
So my computer’s sound recording facilities had been playing up, right. Had been for a while. It was no good. I wanted to make an album.
Thus on the morning of January 15th, I called a taxi and took the old gel into town to be serviced. They told me it would take four days. It wound up taking three weeks. But they did it.
In the meantime, I got totally hacked. First teigan@gmail.com, then [mylegalname]@gmail.com, my blog and my Facebook accounts all stopped accepting their passwords across the final week of January.
On Friday the 8th of February, I got my computer back. On Saturday, I threw a party. This is where we came in.
Upon getting reputered, I created some special email accounts and conducted a few experiments. Via these I established to a high degree of likelihood that my hacker was good old Henley. Somewhat predictably, I lost my shit at him.
On Tuesday 12th, I attempted to boot my newly restored digital handmaiden only to discover that – four days after returning home to me – she had totally, totally died.
I was ‘puterless once more.
Then the following night – Valentine’s Eve, no less – none other than Henley’s girlfriend, a former close associate of mine, claimed responsibility for the hacking via SMS.
Leave the poor petal alone, she said. He’s innocent.
I was skeptical at first, but when she told me that teigan@gmail was wide open for resetting (Quick! Jump up and find an open internet cafe at 2am etc), I realised she was probably telling at least some weird Lady-J-since-she-turned-feral version of the truth.
Why had the former love of my life done this to me? She’d written to me at another account, she said – one of the ones she hadn’t violated and locked me out of – explaining everything.
Only problem was, I had (of course) been changing all my passwords like a demon – without having gotten around to making a backup or a hard copy of any of them. From my computer. Which had since – you will recall – dropped totally, totally dead.
In other words I was now not only ‘puterless and locked out of my hacked accounts, but ‘puterless and locked out of all my internet accounts.
Then in the early hours of Sunday 17th, Wouters dropped my last remaining link to civilisation phone in a full glass of bourbon & coke.
Oy.
Various people have eased my journey through this Durdenesque ordeal, and thanks are due.
Mishuki of Hagakure 419 fame was good enough to let me use hir Facebook profile. My colleague in social research, fellow FB tragic and soon-to-be-housemate Celestine has been extremely generous with her 3G handset, enabling me to update my status in something akin to the style to which I’ve become compulsively accustomed. Thad gave me a safe-haven email account on his server. And last Tuesday, having learned that my dead six-year-old eMac would cost $700 to reanimate, my long-suffering parents offered to buy me a MacBook. Which was very nice of them.
I picked it up this morning. I’m using it now. It’s lovely.
(I’d take a picture but since the destruction of my phone I’ve got no working digital camera, except the one inside said MacBook. And its eye is not prehensile. But here’s a picture of the box:
)
And now I have my accounts back.
Things are gradually returning to some semblance of what passes for ‘normal’ on Planet Teigan.
*flops exhaustedly*
Apart from all of that, I have mostly been going out a lot – having, y’know, not a whole lot else to do – and taking quite a lot of acid.
It’s been.. awesome, actually. Can’t complain.
Oh, and I got engaged on Saturday night. I think. But that’s a whole other story.
Welcome back, blog.
Coming soon: the long, long-delayed multimediatastic Rainbow Serpent post.
Reputered.
At long freaking last.
In the meantime, my two primary gmail accounts, my Facebook account and my TypePad (blog) account were hacked & rendered inaccessible. Oy.
I’ve managed to resecure the blog account, at least, thanks to a friendly cookie which recognised my machine. Bless that cookie. No damage appears to have been inflicted. The only evidence of intrusion is that the answer to my secret security question (“What is your mother’s maiden name?”) has changed from “Symington” to “whore”.
Charmed, I’m sure.
Cunts.
Here – nested all meta-style – is an earlier entry I scrawled freehand on Tuesday, and was planning to post at the ‘ternet caff that evening but couldn’t, because I’d been hacked:
Munted.
Is the word of the week. As in “Man, I got munted on Saturday night.” And I did. I really did.
At 10pm I was summoned by Wouters to a party in the Brunswick area. I was only going to stay out for two hours or so on account of: (a) I was supposed to be working the following day –
(In other news: I started working at the doodle palace again last week; it’s been almost as much of a shock to my system as Rainbow. But in a significantly less good way.)
– and (b) I didn’t actually know the person who’s party it was or anyone else who was going to be there. Or so I thought..
As it turned out.. ah, it’s quite a funny story, but it’s also a bit complex and at least four of my five remaining readers basically know it already.
Suffice to say a munting good time was had, this being only improved – and further enmunted – by the semi-random appearance of none other than the mysterious and extraordinary Thad at an advanced stage of the evening. (Update 8 Feb: I’ve encountered him twice more since then. I think he’s stalking me. Or someone I know. But I don’t mind at all.)
I didn’t make it to work. I’m not sure how I made it home. I’m really not.
In other muntedness news, I’m having a party tomorrow night. It’s going to be pretty good. If you are reading this and you know my street address, you can come.
Filed under Cunts, Damage Control, Discombobulation, Domestica, Evil, F***book, Muntedness, People, Terribleness, Whack
I’m Back
It was pretty fucking good. (As in “That’s a pretty fucking good milkshake.“)
Thanks to Major G, the Rainbow Serpent undercover vibe police, and most especially a man named Thad.
More will be said once I have fully regained the power of speech, and also my computer. Which I still don’t have. Still.
So don’t even care right now!