And we didn’t end up setting fire to anything! But I expect it was for the best.
Category Archives: People
Bentendo Shaved His Head
I went out into the garden this morning to drink coffee and smoke a cigarette blearily, as is my wont, and look what I found:
All the kids are doing it.
Sydney
My trip to Sydney the other weekend went well.
I like Sydney. (There, I said it.)
Saturday
I travelled by bus because it was $70 cheaper than flying. This was a mistake
Sunday
I arrived about 8am on Sunday morning, and wandered around looking dazedly at the pigeons in that park across from the bus depot whose name I can never remember. Someone somehow scabbed a lit cigarette out of my hand whilst I was talking on the phone
Then got a bus to Newtown, where I was staying with baby sis (the trains were broken)
She met me at this cafe across from the station. Several witnesses will confirm my version of events
She is living in a pretty yellow house
We hung out for a bit. I had a nap. Then we went down to her local, which is called ‘Zanzibar’. She seems to like it there. She had a voucher for free tapas, pictured
Then I went out to to dinner at a Lebanese restaurant in Surrey Hills, because it was someone’s birthday
After dinner we went back to my friend whose birthday it was’s house and she showed us some of her birthday presents
Upon returning to the yellow house, sis’s housemates informed me that she was still at Zanzibar so I went up & joined her there
We met an incredibly fucked up chick – we’ll her ‘Rhiannon’ – who, in between frequent trips to what she referred to as the ‘refreshment lounge’, insisted in very forceful terms that I take a picture of her breasts and post it to my blog
After closing sis & I went back to the yellow house and watched Kill Bill vol. 2 on her baby iBook, sat out on her balcony. It was nice
Monday
A forecast trip to the beach in the morning was cancelled due to inclement weather so we just slept and hung around the house.
When it stopped raining in the afternoon we went out for coffee & food on King Street. Then I met my friend of the birthday at a Vietnamese restaurant down the road. She was a bit sad and I did not take a picture.
Once she’d finished her soup we caught a bus to the Hollywood Hotel where further gatherage had been arranged
Even the beautiful old-world porcelain fittings there could not stave off the dreaded urinal performance anxiety
Baby sis (left) eventually joined us, partly I think because I told her there would be karaoke. We didn’t end up doing karaoke. I was kind of disappointed
The gathering dispersed and sis & I returned compasslike to Zanzibar, where I threw up. Unfortunately I forgot to take a picture until after flushing the lounge chair
Tuesday
Bus back to Melbourne. Slept, read, listened to music, and talked for way too long on the phone
That is all.
Happy
Yay!
I’ve finally compiled my “Stuff I Did Last Year” post, which had become the object of increasingly dire procrastinatory enmirement over these past two weeks. It involved conducting a larger review of the year which I’d been dreading.
That was stupid of me. (Hindsight’s a wonderful thing.)
It may seem like I’ve been neglecting this blog – but the truth is I’ve been going half-demented thinking about what to do with it.
*sigh*
The only fly in my ointment today, however, is that I’ve accidentally deleted the audio file – which I really, really wanted to post – of a conversation conducted between myself and my neighbour on Thursday night.
We were discussing the most efficient way of killing everyone in our building. In the end we decided to get two pistols with a silencers and then just knock on each person’s door one by one. I would do upstairs, he would do downstairs. Simple, effective, no muss, no fuss.
The talks broke down, however, when it became apparent that my neighbour thought we should give ourselves up once the job was complete.
That seemed ridiculous to me. What kind of milksop goes on a merciless killing spree and then surrenders? “Gee, sorry about that. Here, let me spend the rest of my life in jail”? Fuck that.
I’m going to Sydney tonight, for the birthday of an old friend and to hang with baby sis, who is going backpacking overseas next month for a long time. I shall return on Tuesday evening. There will be pictures.
But then, once I get home, I’ll be working like a trojan through to Sunday. So don’t be anticipating too much action round these parts over the next week or so.
There are going to be changes. Good changes. Still not sure exactly what form they’ll take yet. But they’ll be good.
Finally, word up as always to all the good people I’ve been woefully neglecting in various ways of late (specifically: Agent Blabber, Alexis, Clover, Desci, Hits, Li, Nada, Reanimator, Simon Blackmoore and the mysterious, oracular Mr Simon Moon.. although somehow I feel sure that he, at least, is not offended).
Please be assured of my regard and that communques are pending as applicable.
Baby Sis Fractured Her Knee
About two months ago.
She fell out of a tree at 5:30 in the morning.
All she needs now is a parrot and a plank.
(I was going to mention this in the wedding post, but I forgot.)
To: j hawthorne
From: Trysting Fields Central Communications
Date: 3 January 2006 4:36:26 PM
On 03/01/2006, at 4:10 PM, j hawthorne wrote:
>how does this whole cumulative fare-evasion fines thing work, anyway?
Mine is only cumulative in the sense that I got fined twice in quick succession in December.
>how do they know you’ve been doing it over and over, and how much to
>charge you?
They don’t. The trams are basically an honor system. The driver is locked in a little box and passengers just hop on and off as they whim. Everyone’s supposed to validate their tickets (purchasable from a machine onboard) but hardly anyone ever does.
Then they have roaming inspectors who periodically lumber onboard like the fucking SS in their jackets, and flash badges (really) and ask to see everyone’s tickets.
There’s also undercover ones, disguised as normal passengers, who suddenly jump up in unison – like ‘this is a fare evasion raid motherfuckers’ – and inspect you when you are least expecting it.
They did a big blitz in December. I’ve been living in fear. I purchased a monthly pass!
>or do they just catch you once and nail you with a hefty fine?
That’s what they do. They’re supposed to escalate, I think, but somehow I’ve been fined $154 twice.
I’ve discovered that it’s an acceptable excuse to say you are running late [nb on trains only] – but this policy seems likely to be phased out.
>is riding the tram for free in melbourne like russian roulette?
Very much so. Financial public transport-based russian roulette.
Why are you so interested in the trams?!
Can I publish this exchange on my blog?
You Know What I Hate?
People who behave in ways which create the impression they think you – that’s the generic ‘you’, not you personally – are an idiot, but who are too pissweak to tell you so explicitly to your face, causing unnecessary paranoia.
These people can die. Any of you reading this: you can die. Don’t come here anymore. Understood? Good.
This whole being-nice-to-people-you-don’t-like thing is just bullshit. I get so fed up with it. I have been guilty myself on occasion of course, but only when social convention dictated that I really didn’t have a choice. (Or because I wanted something out of the person. Which is allowed.)
Filed under People
Old Homage To Constance
From May; I never got around to posting these at the time.
I still get sad sometimes about what happened with Constance. It doesn’t seem to have bothered her too much though, so I suppose I shouldn’t.
She was really nasty to me. I can’t be having with that.
People, eh.
John Fowles Dead
Victory for the Trysting Fields campaign!
UPDATE: The post cited above just got linked by the BBC!
Filed under Books, Current Affairs, Neurocam, People, Whack
Wedding Invitation
My sister’s wedding is on the 17th of December. I’m getting used to the idea but it still seems kind of weird. My sister can’t get married; she’s just a kid [*], it’s ridiculous. She and her nordic beau make a lovely couple though.
I will always remember when she phoned to tell me about this, back in April – I was sat on a chaise lounge at a bar on Alexandra St in a mask, surrounded by other masked strangers, mostly playing chess with each other. The first person I told was 2ript (now in exciting new package), who I had never met in person before. Naturally at the time I didn’t even know who he was.
[*] She is 26 years old; your mileage may vary.
Audio Message From Steve Cronin
Hosting by Steve Cronin. (Thanks Steve!)
About two weeks old now. I never did find out why he got assed. He was a good operative; Charles loved him, which is rare. It’s mysterious.
Desci Almost Called Me
But she was too shy. To call me. Despite being drunk.
Number of hits this appears to have generated in the last 37 hours: 53.
I was so touched I sent her an audio message.
This Is One Of Those Ones That Just Doesn’t Want A Title
A couple of weeks ago – and not at all by design – I bumped into an old acquaintance from Canberra, P, at one of the supermarkets on Acland Street (I forget which one; I have been known to patronize both although these days I tend to favour the IGA on Fitzroy Street – prospective stalkers take note). He used to play the saxophone in a band, and sometimes pretends to have Tourette’s Syndrome. He is going through some heavy shit right now. I like him a lot.
We had a beer on Wednesday at the Espy. Whilst I was waiting for him I chatted to my friend Gethsemane. She was a bit drunk and asked me to transcribe a postcard for her – to Operative Tenex of all people. Seems they’re quite close – or were. I hadn’t even realised. It’s a small world.