That's Right, I'm A Writer

So I'm in my Literature class today, and we're learning about modernism. Nothing much sticks out to me, but I learn it anyway, and soon enough my teacher has us doing some writing tasks. The first one is that we had to read a book or document, take five or six lines and turn it into a bit of a poem.

I'm currently reading On The Road by Jack Kerouac, so I took some lines from that and created this little number,

It was a war with social overtones,
He put an ordinary fan in a window frame,
Then it finally happened,
We got to the house where the waitress sisters lived,
It was a wonderful night.

Not too shabby if I don't say so myself. The other writing task was to take an object and write a few lines about it. I took a black coffee mug, and I ended up with some badly written haiku.

Made of cold clay,
Smooth and curved,
Dark as the night,
Easily breakable.

I thought it was a bit crap, but two women in my class (we'll call them Delia and Meg) thought it was really good. Surprised I was. Delia had been praising me for some of the things I'd brought up in class discussions, so I guess she was on a role. Also, Delia and Meg do a bit of poetry, so I guess they know the good stuff when they hear it.

That's all for now good bloggers. Peace.

They've Done It Again

Let's talk about my two favourite girls, Chappi-Clementina and Svnof. I was watching their favourite show last night, Criminal Minds, and their number one character on it, JJ, killed the guy who was going after Garcia. All was good, and after seeing her pop the barstard in the head, I knew Chappi-Clementina and Svnof were going to be talking about this.

So I arrived at my publishing class this morning and Chappi-Clementina was there, and soon enough I brought up JJ and they were talking about how great she is. I kept laughing, as per usual, and then Chappi-Clementina starts saying how great it would be to get shot by JJ herself, and how she wouldn't want the bullet removed.

She started telling me, 'If JJ shoots me, and the doctors try to remove the bullet, I'll say "no, no, leave it in".' That's just one of the many quotes she's taken from The Simpsons, specifically the episode where Sherry Bobbins comes in and Marge's hive is able to support a beach umbrella, and Homer tells her to leave it in whilst they're having sex.

Anyway, Chappi-Clementina, Svnof and my goodself were pissing ourselves whenever one of us used that line. Surprisingly enough we weren't cracking up our friend Bugsy, who is easy to crack up. No matter, once again my hat goes off to Chappi-Clementina and Svnof. Well done you crazy bitches.

No, It's Not Super Sweet... Idiots

Let's get back to the topic of crazy all right, and how it's gotten different everywhere you look. I am of course refering to that stupid MTV show Super Sweet Sixteenth, and the idiot teenagers they've got on it.

I saw a part of it today, and the boy (yes, it was a boy this time) was planning his 16th. Now this rich little punk was getting ready for the damn thing, and he got all drama queen wanker when his hair was cut too short. Oh my God! I wanted to jump in there and slam my fist into his face.

I just want to say, that show is PATHETIC. Every rich little barstard and biotch on it is so stuck up and in the end they get their own little prom which they can't decide whether to go to or not in the end. I don't even envy them, except for the part where Rihanna rocked up to one of those parties.

That's all I've got to say on the matter, that yankee rich kids are pathetic and they should be poor, or attacked by face-huggers. Whatever comes first.

And I Pull Out My Gun!

Okay, let's talk about different types of crazy. In all of my nineteen years, I've seen a lot of this so-called crazy shite, but in the last few years I've noticed that it's gotten a little out of hand. This I've seen in films, television and of course... in real life.

I'd like to bring up the best type of crazy though, the all too dear... Crazy Chik. The chik (yes, I spell it with two C's) is by far the maddest person I've ever met, and it works for her. Crazy Chik, who we'll call Chappi-Clementina just keeps coming up with the funniest lines EVER! For instance, the title of this posting is one of her many quotes.

Sure, it might not sound too funny, but when Chappi-Clementina says it, everyone starts laughing. For instance, she will say "I was reading my Deathproof script, and I pull out my gun!" Another quote she loves using is "It begins!" which was stolen from The Simpsons if anyone's wondering.

Oh, and let's not forget... the plan. Since my goodself, Chappi-Clementina and our other friend, who we'll call Sailor Venus's Number One Fan, don't care much for Krispy Kreme donuts, we've convinced ourselves that anyone whose eaten one will turn into a zombie and the world will end. So, we've prepared ourselves for such a thing.

Our plan is to drive around in an armoured truck and survive the damn thing whilst listening to freaky old time bands such as Hanson's Mmm Bop! and The Spice Girls if we remember too. I, who have eaten Krispy Kreme (I know, it's a shame), will be half-zombie and will be sitting on top of the armoured truck in a banana chair ready to shoot the zombie Tom Cruise with my toilet plunger gun.

Sailor Venus's Number One Fan (we'll call her Svnof- ooh, I've Sweded her) will be sitting inside of the armoured truck ready to change the music and scream out in joy when Chappi-Clementina says Girlicious. And of course, Chappi-Clementina will be driving the damn truck because she's the only one of us who has her P's.

If you're wondering how she'll be driving the truck, just go and watch Quetin Tarantino's Deathproof and pay very close attention to the character Kim Mathis, played by Tracie Thoms. Chappi-Clementina is basically the white version of Kim, and when I told her this, she felt damn proud about it.

Yes, that's all I can tell you about us, the amazing the trio. We're hoping to have a movie made about us, and in it Svnof will be played by triplets, and I shall be played by a killer robot driving instructor named Sicko. Oh, and the name of the movie And I Pull Out My Gun!

No, It's Not All Good Atticus

So I'm having a decent day today. I went out with Mum to have lunch with some family at an RSL in Coburg, where my Grandpa lives. It was a good day, I had steak and I also won the woopie cushion that my aunt was gunning for. Not only that, I also found out where Anthony Koutoufides's restaurant is which is good since my sister and I are planning an adventure there.

But something isn't right about today. I am of course talking... about air. Why is there so much of it people. Don't we have enough of it? Can't we send it to another planet? I don't know, I'm just posting mindless dribble. Another thing I'd like to talk about are... beetroot. Why does it exist, well, that's natures fault. Why the hell can't it just die out like the power that the Nazis held over the Jews.

So this all I have to say really, because Atticus demanded it. I hope you're proud of this Atticus, because like the title suggests, it's not all good! Thanks for listening.

Here You Are Calliope

For a while now some people have been telling to throw some art onto my blog. I've been meaning to, since my blog doesn't look too flash in the visual sense, but now I've got an image.

I originally painted an image like this for my VCE Art folio, but I realised that it would look a whole lot better done in charcoal.

I have named it Old Women in New Kenya. For my folio I decided to do cultures as my theme, and Kenya was one of them. The others included Guatemala, Italy, Thailand and Spain.

Anyway, I chose Kenya because I wanted to depict how the industrial world is taking over the country, and how it might do away with the tribal culture.

I painted these women because I decided to incorporate them into every painting that I did. The idea for these women comes from Rachel Marete, a former Miss Kenya who had this nice tattoo on her forehead. A knock-off tatt has been drawn on the middle woman's forehead too.

This is what I hope is the first of many images, and for my sister Atticus and friend Calliope, please get off my back about posting my art. It's done, and more will come. Promise.

Don't Go There

Today had its downers I'm sorry to say. My sister Atticus/Blanche was working at the Shrine in Melbourne, and my mother and I were going to meet up with her so we could go to the museum. So, when we get off the train we get something to eat, and I suggest Lord of the Fries, which is this new place that my sister kept telling me about.

So we go there and I order some chips and chicken nuggets, and they were just damn auful. First of all Mum wouldn't eat the chips because the guy serving us covered them in tomato sauce (mostly my fault) and she doesn't care for the sauce so much. Second, she take one bit of the nuggets and cannot stand them.

I asked her what was wrong, and she said they sucked. I try them too, and I agreed with her. They were terrible. Honestly, if they didn't taste like rubber they were tasting like a juiced-up prawn. Oh how we did not enjoy lunch today.

Lord of the Fries I think not. They're more like the Lord of the Lies.

Rusty, the Original Good One

My other postings have been regarded as quite humorous by those who have read them. Apparently I possess the ability to make people laugh with my random scribblings about Mexico, stealing my mothers wine, Bionica from Gladiators and most of all, nothing. But now I'm going to be a little bit serious. When I mean serious, I will be using real names.

A tragic event occurred for my family this morning. Our pet dog of eighteen years, Rusty, passed away. Like most people, we were very upset, because like the title suggests, he was the Original Good One. Anyone who knows me will understand what a "good one" is, and that's the best type of person ever!

Rusty was very devoted to us, and everyone else who knew him. We all loved him to pieces, so we've got some grieving ahead of us. The hole he's left here will never be filled again. This hasn't been a good year for us, since we've already lost three people who were close to us. But I can't help but remember the good times we had with Rusty.

We first learnt of his existence back when I was in kindergarten. My uncle Chris called my Dad up and said this scruffy brown dog had jumped off of a truck and had walked into his factory. He took a liking to him, and deemed the dog too lovely to be sent to a pound. Next thing you know, he's calling Dad and the next day my parents and I are going to the factory to meet this creature.
Dad was a bit skeptical about taking the dog home, since my Mum wasn't big on them at the time. However, their minds changed when they saw how much fun I was having with the dog. At the time I didn't know that we were going to take the dog home with us. My highlight of that day was when I got some dim sims for my lunch.

Everything started to come together when I got home from kindergarten that day. When my brother and sister (who most of you will know as Babette and Blanche, but are really named Graeme and Kathlene) came home from school they took a liking to him as well. We were all patting him when Mum and Dad told us that he was ours to keep, and Dad had named him Rusty.

After that things became a little hectic. For instance, after getting him, Rusty tried to escape twice. His attempts failed, but when he saw us giving him free food, he decided to stick around, for the next decade or so.

Another funny thing to happen was when my friend Samantha's mum saw him in the driveway. One of his legs was out of view, and questioned whether or not it had been amputated. We got a good laugh out of that.

Over time everything was pretty average, and Rusty was getting a little bit of a paunch. We had to put him on a diet, which I don't think he cared for so much. Eventually he became an over-sized sausage dog, which we were fine with.

Unfortunately something happened that I did not for see. I was in year seven, it was the end of the day and this kid runs up to me and says, "Hey Brian, I heard you've got a fat dog." Now I had no idea how this kid knew about Rusty, and I didn't even know who the kid was. Eventually I found out and over time I became good friends with Degszy.

Anyway, some other kids started talking about Rusty, and I didn't care much for the dialogue. Soon enough I made it clear that my dog was off limits, and those who didn't care for my warning received a fist in the stomach (bit of an overstatement). But everyone soon decided to put the topic to rest, and when they all saw him at my eighteenth years later, they loved him.

Over the years we started to believe that he had some cat in him. What I mean is that he seemed to have about nine lives, since he'd been cheating death every so often. One time he was bitten on the neck by a white-tailed spider, and he recovered from that. Another was when he was having fits during the summer from the year before, and he got over them too.

Unfortunately he ran out of lives and simply wore out. I guess he just decided to stop after 126 of human years. His passing happened on the morning of July 2nd, 2008 at 2:30 (rough estimate). He went peacefully in my brothers arms, and then the tears started.

We will always miss our beloved Rusty. He was always a member of the family, despite being of a different species, but that didn't mater. Wherever he is now, we hope you're happy and barking at people you don't know. If you see anyone we know, you're in good hands.

Rest in peace Rusty.