A lot of things are happening rather quickly at work right now. Seems we're working on the whole expansion thing, so interstate offices are being opened.
More specifically, we're renting suites to use for meetings because the cost of serviced meeting rooms is getting expensive and having something more reliable may be the go.
This means that someone has to go down to Sydney next week to oversee the installation of signage and the delivery of furniture. That someone will be me, a person with no other use in the office but to sit around a vacant room telling guys to dump furniture in certain areas whilst tapping away on my laptop looking important.
Because I will be taking my laptop down with me to work on my little writing attempt. . . which is finally starting to take a real shape. Got meself a good idea of how the majority of the plot will work, decent character outlines and various other things that might be useful in writing a book.
Some of it has even been written down!
At this rate, I may attempt actually writing in the next week or so.
Whilst in Sydney, being paid to do nothing in particular.
14 January, 2008
12 January, 2008
Real Love
A short simple entry today.
The Triple J Hottest 100 voting opened recently and after reading a shitty little article in mX about the current betting on which song would win, I realised something had to be done.
You see, Silverchair - Straight Lines is the current favourite to win, and let's face it, it's going to take a lot of effort to knock that song off the top, despite the fact that it sucks. Silverchair has really fallen from their previous awesomeness with songs like Ana's Song, Anthem for the Year 2000 and of course, Freak, quite simply their new stuff is terrible, almost like an entirely new band.
Powderfinger will no doubt be successful this year as well, despite their latest album sucking.
I could go into detail about how since Daniel Johns no longer lines in a world of pain (dude has as pretty messy medical history) and Bernard Fanning is no longer a heroin addict, but that's I'm not an American politician, I won't make my candidate look good by slandering the others, especially seeing as they made their best material when they were at their lowest as human beings.
No, instead I wish to draw everyone's attention to Regina Spektor's magnificent cover of Real Love, which she has performed at numerous concerts and live on the "Like A Version" segment of Robbie Buck's program on Triple J.
It is by far the best song I've heard in recent memory, Real Love just grabs my attention and holds it, you believe the vulnerability, the fragility, the haunting emotion that Regina projects so perfectly . Quite simply, it's beautiful and no other song eligible for entry in the Hottest 100 comes close to it in terms of pure brilliance.
Now, far be it from me to infringe on your freedom to think for yourself, but Real Love is an outsider to do well in the Hottest 100 right now, you see the general formula for success is that it is highly played/requested on Triple J (which is is) and also receives equal amount of support on commercial radio. That's why Silverchair is the favourite, because they've pretty much saturated all radio stations with their latest album, and it's also why Powderfinger normally dominates, because it's basically unAustralian to dislike them. Regina Spektor, despite her ridiculous talent does not get any commercial radio play that I know of and from what I can tell is virtually unknown to the greater majority of Australians, to their obvious loss.
So back to not infringing on your freedom of thought.
Go to the Hottest 100 page, click on "Vote Now" and then create a shortlist of songs (it's all listed on the site in enough detail to sort it out). Make sure that Regina Spektor - Real Love is on your shortlist.
Select up to 10 songs from that shortlist, make sure Real Love is one of those songs and vote for them.
The rest of the process is pretty simple.
The Triple J Hottest 100 voting opened recently and after reading a shitty little article in mX about the current betting on which song would win, I realised something had to be done.
You see, Silverchair - Straight Lines is the current favourite to win, and let's face it, it's going to take a lot of effort to knock that song off the top, despite the fact that it sucks. Silverchair has really fallen from their previous awesomeness with songs like Ana's Song, Anthem for the Year 2000 and of course, Freak, quite simply their new stuff is terrible, almost like an entirely new band.
Powderfinger will no doubt be successful this year as well, despite their latest album sucking.
I could go into detail about how since Daniel Johns no longer lines in a world of pain (dude has as pretty messy medical history) and Bernard Fanning is no longer a heroin addict, but that's I'm not an American politician, I won't make my candidate look good by slandering the others, especially seeing as they made their best material when they were at their lowest as human beings.
No, instead I wish to draw everyone's attention to Regina Spektor's magnificent cover of Real Love, which she has performed at numerous concerts and live on the "Like A Version" segment of Robbie Buck's program on Triple J.
It is by far the best song I've heard in recent memory, Real Love just grabs my attention and holds it, you believe the vulnerability, the fragility, the haunting emotion that Regina projects so perfectly . Quite simply, it's beautiful and no other song eligible for entry in the Hottest 100 comes close to it in terms of pure brilliance.
Now, far be it from me to infringe on your freedom to think for yourself, but Real Love is an outsider to do well in the Hottest 100 right now, you see the general formula for success is that it is highly played/requested on Triple J (which is is) and also receives equal amount of support on commercial radio. That's why Silverchair is the favourite, because they've pretty much saturated all radio stations with their latest album, and it's also why Powderfinger normally dominates, because it's basically unAustralian to dislike them. Regina Spektor, despite her ridiculous talent does not get any commercial radio play that I know of and from what I can tell is virtually unknown to the greater majority of Australians, to their obvious loss.
So back to not infringing on your freedom of thought.
Go to the Hottest 100 page, click on "Vote Now" and then create a shortlist of songs (it's all listed on the site in enough detail to sort it out). Make sure that Regina Spektor - Real Love is on your shortlist.
Select up to 10 songs from that shortlist, make sure Real Love is one of those songs and vote for them.
The rest of the process is pretty simple.
09 January, 2008
Happy Happy Joy Joy
Apparently this blog is too pessimistic and full of complaints.
Somehow I should have seen that coming, but oddly enough, despite the fact that most of this blog contains somewhat negative views that's mainly because I find it a) funnier, b) easier and most importantly c) more interesting to write. Honestly, I'm not that negative in reality, it's just how I like to present things.
So because of this observation, today's entry will be all happy, sunshine and flowers and puppy dog tails and other things associated with youthful joy.
I have an extraordinary knack to buy discount fast food. It's probably related to my years of "service" in the industry, but it appears that somehow the majority of the time I'm buying fast food it's for less than the full price. Oh, and this is without vouchers, vouchers are for less lazy people.
The odd thing about this innate ability of mine to get crappy non-food for cheap is that I only really noticed it yesterday, after I worked out the reason I didn't pay full price on Monday for my Subway was not because of an error by the guy at the register but because he gave me 10% deliberately. A realisation that came after it happened again. Nearly managed to get a free upgrade to a meal at Hungry Jacks the same day as well when the manager misread the screen, if I wasn't honest I would have had proof that I don't need to be directly involved for this discounting to occur. . . but alas, I didn't want the guy who took my order to get in trouble (and I had a bus to catch so I didn't have time for more than a burger *insert shifty eyed emoticon here*).
Discounts like these tend to happen more often at places I've worked, Subways, Hungry Jacks and that kebab store in Sunnybank Plaza . . . although I've got myself discounts at various KFCs as well somehow (I think that most have a "centre employee" discount and they thought I worked at the shopping centre we were in). So I'm drawing a bit of a blank why this regularly happens. . .
Must be my startlingly bubbly personality I guess.
Somehow I should have seen that coming, but oddly enough, despite the fact that most of this blog contains somewhat negative views that's mainly because I find it a) funnier, b) easier and most importantly c) more interesting to write. Honestly, I'm not that negative in reality, it's just how I like to present things.
So because of this observation, today's entry will be all happy, sunshine and flowers and puppy dog tails and other things associated with youthful joy.
I have an extraordinary knack to buy discount fast food. It's probably related to my years of "service" in the industry, but it appears that somehow the majority of the time I'm buying fast food it's for less than the full price. Oh, and this is without vouchers, vouchers are for less lazy people.
The odd thing about this innate ability of mine to get crappy non-food for cheap is that I only really noticed it yesterday, after I worked out the reason I didn't pay full price on Monday for my Subway was not because of an error by the guy at the register but because he gave me 10% deliberately. A realisation that came after it happened again. Nearly managed to get a free upgrade to a meal at Hungry Jacks the same day as well when the manager misread the screen, if I wasn't honest I would have had proof that I don't need to be directly involved for this discounting to occur. . . but alas, I didn't want the guy who took my order to get in trouble (and I had a bus to catch so I didn't have time for more than a burger *insert shifty eyed emoticon here*).
Discounts like these tend to happen more often at places I've worked, Subways, Hungry Jacks and that kebab store in Sunnybank Plaza . . . although I've got myself discounts at various KFCs as well somehow (I think that most have a "centre employee" discount and they thought I worked at the shopping centre we were in). So I'm drawing a bit of a blank why this regularly happens. . .
Must be my startlingly bubbly personality I guess.
06 January, 2008
Rain, Rain, Go Away.
It's a little bit wet today. A lot bit wet, if you want to be precise but let's not bother with details, the important thing is that I woke up this early afternoon to some high humidity and a clingy dog who could apparently see this coming.
That's right, my dull-witted pet seemed to know the water was incoming and decided that was a good excuse to come say "hello" and get a little attention. It would have been better if he just closed the windows because there are now several extremely wet patches of carpet around the house, which is normally a sign of a house member with a weak bladder but in this case means a lot of rain got in very quickly.
Overall the best part of this little sun shower is that my sister's car was getting aired (don't ask me, I didn't decide to do it) so the windows were open. In the 30 seconds that I was outside stopping the liquid from penetrating her vehicle's interior my body was soaked to the bone. There really was quite a bit of water.
Torrential downpours do have a nice upside though, because most of this week has had similar weather the dams may actually have some water in them. . . I can shower for more than 43 seconds without worrying bout draining the last of the city's water supply. Now my showers can be an amazing 47 seconds in length!
That's right, my dull-witted pet seemed to know the water was incoming and decided that was a good excuse to come say "hello" and get a little attention. It would have been better if he just closed the windows because there are now several extremely wet patches of carpet around the house, which is normally a sign of a house member with a weak bladder but in this case means a lot of rain got in very quickly.
Overall the best part of this little sun shower is that my sister's car was getting aired (don't ask me, I didn't decide to do it) so the windows were open. In the 30 seconds that I was outside stopping the liquid from penetrating her vehicle's interior my body was soaked to the bone. There really was quite a bit of water.
Torrential downpours do have a nice upside though, because most of this week has had similar weather the dams may actually have some water in them. . . I can shower for more than 43 seconds without worrying bout draining the last of the city's water supply. Now my showers can be an amazing 47 seconds in length!
05 January, 2008
Well . . . fuck
I had something lined up, it was witty and not actually complaining for once.
But for some reason when I got to the writing, it just didn't come out. Maybe I'm only good at the negative stuff.
We'll see what happens later on when I try again.
But for some reason when I got to the writing, it just didn't come out. Maybe I'm only good at the negative stuff.
We'll see what happens later on when I try again.
02 January, 2008
From The Brink Of Boredom. . .
Comes another rant.
So it turns out that another number has ticked over in the planetary odometer and this means only one thing. People are making fleeting new year's resolutions in plans to improve their lives for no particular reason other than the fact that the year is no longer the same as it was.
Nothing else has actually changed for them, but still, people will decide to lose 30 pounds, take their religion more seriously, read more books, work out more often, stop eating babies, stop smoking and all other sorts of crazy things that they'll only really work on for a week or two before forgetting they even planned to do it in the first place.
The way I see it is, planning on self-improvement is incredibly hard to make stick at the best of times, you need a good solid reason to do it because people are instinctively lazy. I know I am. I wouldn't work to lose weight unless I knew I was about to get a heart attack, but then again, if I worked to lose weight right now I'd be diagnosed with some sort of eating disorder. There have been plenty of times where I've decided, for no good reason, to learn a new skill. The random books about learning Mandarin, including CDs and flash cards, are testament to that failed endeavour. It didn't work because I had no motivation to actually learn and that's why most new year's resolutions will also fail.
Probably a big factor in the failure rate is that people simply forget the resolutions a little while after they've made them. Which also helps explain why people persist in making new resolutions every 365.25 days, they forgot had badly it failed last time. So if only people kept a record of their resolutions, then they would stop making them after realising that for the last umpteen years they've tried to kick some habit or make some minor improvement to themselves and completely failed to do so.
Howells, I guess I'll just be resolute in my decision to only take on tasks of self-improvement based on needs and boredom, not the old galactic odometer. Sure the ones made from boredom are never successful, but they help kill the time.
So it turns out that another number has ticked over in the planetary odometer and this means only one thing. People are making fleeting new year's resolutions in plans to improve their lives for no particular reason other than the fact that the year is no longer the same as it was.
Nothing else has actually changed for them, but still, people will decide to lose 30 pounds, take their religion more seriously, read more books, work out more often, stop eating babies, stop smoking and all other sorts of crazy things that they'll only really work on for a week or two before forgetting they even planned to do it in the first place.
The way I see it is, planning on self-improvement is incredibly hard to make stick at the best of times, you need a good solid reason to do it because people are instinctively lazy. I know I am. I wouldn't work to lose weight unless I knew I was about to get a heart attack, but then again, if I worked to lose weight right now I'd be diagnosed with some sort of eating disorder. There have been plenty of times where I've decided, for no good reason, to learn a new skill. The random books about learning Mandarin, including CDs and flash cards, are testament to that failed endeavour. It didn't work because I had no motivation to actually learn and that's why most new year's resolutions will also fail.
Probably a big factor in the failure rate is that people simply forget the resolutions a little while after they've made them. Which also helps explain why people persist in making new resolutions every 365.25 days, they forgot had badly it failed last time. So if only people kept a record of their resolutions, then they would stop making them after realising that for the last umpteen years they've tried to kick some habit or make some minor improvement to themselves and completely failed to do so.
Howells, I guess I'll just be resolute in my decision to only take on tasks of self-improvement based on needs and boredom, not the old galactic odometer. Sure the ones made from boredom are never successful, but they help kill the time.
28 December, 2007
Why Should I Be Caring Right Now?
Someone explain the world's fascination with celebrities to me.
Seriously, I don't get it, they're famous so suddenly we need to know that they stole a cigarette lighter from a gas station? If a normal person did that we'd wonder what the big fucking deal is, but if Britney Spears does it we get interviews with the gas station owner, Britney Spears and her agent.
Fuck that.
How about instead of making a big deal about people who are complete trash like Britney, Lindsay and Paris, because they didn't wear panties and a hoard of cameramen that follow them to make big money selling the pictures to shitty magazines that feed on the hysteria of fame, how about we try doing that to normal people and seeing how the world takes it.
Logically there's no real reason to care more about someone who's father owns a multibillion dollar hotel empire than someone who's father mooched off of the government his whole life? If the resulting child is as much a complete waste of oxygen, why should there be any difference between the entertainment provided by the publication of the two people's lives?
I actually don't have anything against celebrities, there are some out there that I think genuinely aren't douchebags. Mainly the ones that don't feed into this gossipy world and try to hide from it, who are then in turn ridiculed by the gossipers for wanting some fucking privacy. What gives these whoremongery parasites the right to assume they can invade a person's privacy and publicise it to the world? And furthermore by what logical reason do they assume that people should care other than the reason that they tell people they should care (and thus they do for some stupid reason).
It just baffles the mind.
There was an article in the free newspaper/rag that gets handed out around Brisbane (it's called mX and I think most Aussie cities are infected with it's worthlessness) which actually listed the "celebrities of the year"
The winner was Britney, runner up was Anna Nicole Smith, Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan were on the list somewhere as well. Having seen all the useless bullshit printed about these people, the only thing I can see that they used to determine "best" celebrity was the one they were able to make the most money out of publishing their faults, because they definitely haven't done anything worthwhile in recent memory. . . actually I can't think of anything they've done ever that's worth making note about and I'm really struggling. Being a failure as a mother, committing suicide, being in a craptcular porno and turning from a "wholesome" girl to a coke addicted whore. . . that's what I seem to associate with these people. Nothing out there about them makes me think of them as anything worthwhile or anywhere near classifying as "best" at being anything.
Oh, and before anyone feels to point out the hypocrisy of me knowing anything about these celebrities, I know because this shit is force-fed into the media and mainstream culture, resulting in it being unavoidable to know something about these people. I'm sure you're all aware of it too, I probably wouldn't need to list names and you'd still be able to know who I'm talking about.
In conclusion, I too want people to just leave Britney alone.
Seriously, I don't get it, they're famous so suddenly we need to know that they stole a cigarette lighter from a gas station? If a normal person did that we'd wonder what the big fucking deal is, but if Britney Spears does it we get interviews with the gas station owner, Britney Spears and her agent.
Fuck that.
How about instead of making a big deal about people who are complete trash like Britney, Lindsay and Paris, because they didn't wear panties and a hoard of cameramen that follow them to make big money selling the pictures to shitty magazines that feed on the hysteria of fame, how about we try doing that to normal people and seeing how the world takes it.
Logically there's no real reason to care more about someone who's father owns a multibillion dollar hotel empire than someone who's father mooched off of the government his whole life? If the resulting child is as much a complete waste of oxygen, why should there be any difference between the entertainment provided by the publication of the two people's lives?
I actually don't have anything against celebrities, there are some out there that I think genuinely aren't douchebags. Mainly the ones that don't feed into this gossipy world and try to hide from it, who are then in turn ridiculed by the gossipers for wanting some fucking privacy. What gives these whoremongery parasites the right to assume they can invade a person's privacy and publicise it to the world? And furthermore by what logical reason do they assume that people should care other than the reason that they tell people they should care (and thus they do for some stupid reason).
It just baffles the mind.
There was an article in the free newspaper/rag that gets handed out around Brisbane (it's called mX and I think most Aussie cities are infected with it's worthlessness) which actually listed the "celebrities of the year"
The winner was Britney, runner up was Anna Nicole Smith, Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan were on the list somewhere as well. Having seen all the useless bullshit printed about these people, the only thing I can see that they used to determine "best" celebrity was the one they were able to make the most money out of publishing their faults, because they definitely haven't done anything worthwhile in recent memory. . . actually I can't think of anything they've done ever that's worth making note about and I'm really struggling. Being a failure as a mother, committing suicide, being in a craptcular porno and turning from a "wholesome" girl to a coke addicted whore. . . that's what I seem to associate with these people. Nothing out there about them makes me think of them as anything worthwhile or anywhere near classifying as "best" at being anything.
Oh, and before anyone feels to point out the hypocrisy of me knowing anything about these celebrities, I know because this shit is force-fed into the media and mainstream culture, resulting in it being unavoidable to know something about these people. I'm sure you're all aware of it too, I probably wouldn't need to list names and you'd still be able to know who I'm talking about.
In conclusion, I too want people to just leave Britney alone.
27 December, 2007
Writer's Block
Generally I update this little blog when I have an idea stuck in my mind and feel like writing about it to kill some time.
But right now, I'm sitting on nothing that really fits this blog and unfortunately I know exactly why.
You see, that last entry I made which mentioned the whole "writing a book" thing actually stuck with me, except writing a book that is an extended version of this blog just isn't interesting. Sure it might have a few things that people would enjoy but overall a lot of it would be complete and utter trash. Knowing this, I had to think of a better way to try my hand at writing a book and instead of this extended rant thing I thought maybe a more standard novel would be more fun.
Getting something published would be a complete nightmare and I doubt there would even be any point, but I'm not above mental masturbation. I would gladly write and entire novel and not show it to anyone just so that I knew I could do it.
The fact that I know I'm a bad writer means that I know the odds of me showing it off after it's done is pretty slim.
Anyhow, I did have a point I kinda wanted to make this time, even if I am devoid of my usual material and that point has to do with Bunny Puppy. I'm sure most of the people who venture here are aware of Bunny Puppy, but for those that don't remember, I used to do a little comic with a toy named Bunny Puppy that looked a little like this:
Clicky Clicky
As you can see, it relies more on cuteness than my artistic ability, but nonetheless there has been quite a bit of demand for BP to make a return.
This combined with my fascination with Terry Pratchett's characterisation of Death gave me an interesting idea for a story that I can actually turn into something worth reading. Of course, I don't want to copy the Discworld Death, that would be plagiarism, but the actual character of Death is just a goldmine and there are so many ways it can be taken that when combined with Bunny Puppy and my own natural need be negative or "realistically cynical" does seem to be an interesting mix.
Now I just need to learn how to write a story and I'm going to really do this.
It also means that in order to come up with ideas I may do BP comics (which I did kinda promise would return next year) again. But that does require me getting Photoshop back so it may be difficult to pull that bit off.
All in all, I have me some grand plans ahead, none will probably ever come to fruition, but it's enough to keep me occupied.
But right now, I'm sitting on nothing that really fits this blog and unfortunately I know exactly why.
You see, that last entry I made which mentioned the whole "writing a book" thing actually stuck with me, except writing a book that is an extended version of this blog just isn't interesting. Sure it might have a few things that people would enjoy but overall a lot of it would be complete and utter trash. Knowing this, I had to think of a better way to try my hand at writing a book and instead of this extended rant thing I thought maybe a more standard novel would be more fun.
Getting something published would be a complete nightmare and I doubt there would even be any point, but I'm not above mental masturbation. I would gladly write and entire novel and not show it to anyone just so that I knew I could do it.
The fact that I know I'm a bad writer means that I know the odds of me showing it off after it's done is pretty slim.
Anyhow, I did have a point I kinda wanted to make this time, even if I am devoid of my usual material and that point has to do with Bunny Puppy. I'm sure most of the people who venture here are aware of Bunny Puppy, but for those that don't remember, I used to do a little comic with a toy named Bunny Puppy that looked a little like this:
Clicky Clicky
As you can see, it relies more on cuteness than my artistic ability, but nonetheless there has been quite a bit of demand for BP to make a return.
This combined with my fascination with Terry Pratchett's characterisation of Death gave me an interesting idea for a story that I can actually turn into something worth reading. Of course, I don't want to copy the Discworld Death, that would be plagiarism, but the actual character of Death is just a goldmine and there are so many ways it can be taken that when combined with Bunny Puppy and my own natural need be negative or "realistically cynical" does seem to be an interesting mix.
Now I just need to learn how to write a story and I'm going to really do this.
It also means that in order to come up with ideas I may do BP comics (which I did kinda promise would return next year) again. But that does require me getting Photoshop back so it may be difficult to pull that bit off.
All in all, I have me some grand plans ahead, none will probably ever come to fruition, but it's enough to keep me occupied.
19 December, 2007
Nobody Reads This
It's annoying, I write this blog and I'm sure that I have some readers out there who have stumbled across my ramblings, but I can't tell and from all the evidence I have right now, nobody actually bothers to read this.
Makes me wonder, are my opinions just that pointless? Do I go on too much without having a clue why and illicit the good old "tl;dr" response? Or do I have a bajillion readers and nobody wants to comment?
It's a weird little conundrum because I've been thinking that it would be amusing to write a book on the same lines as this blog. A couple hundred pages of opinion, backed by faulty reason and pop-culture references. In terms of marketability I think there's something to it, there are people out there who will read anything if they think it benefits them in some way, so if I played it off as a explanation of the thinking of a "child of the internet" it could probably sell to the older generations who want to understand their kids. Of course, everyone else can just go read a better written blog for free, but who cares about them?
Now, I'd never actually bother to write a book like that unless a publisher approached me with a big sack of cash, but I do think that there is some merit to the idea even if I'm probably not the best person to execute it.
Which brings me back to point, I don't know if anyone reads this so all I have to work from here is assumptions on what I think the response is. This book idea could be a source of millions or it could be completely stupid.
On the other hand though, the only reason I ever started doing this was to waste time rambling on about subjects that I felt like talking about. An open-ended rant with no purpose or direction other than to see how far my brain takes it and to possibly entertain a few people who are more cynical than I am and are amused by the fact that my views are stupid, bias and devoid of reason.
In short people, if you're reading this blog, let me know. It may not be well advertised, the views of the writer may be moronic and excessively long, but sometimes it's nice to know that I'm not completely anonymous and wasting my time.
That being said, I realise that asking for feedback defies the original purpose of this blog, but this book idea. . . I really want to see something published with the title "LAWL BEWBIES!" and anything that even hints that could be a reality would amuse me.
Makes me wonder, are my opinions just that pointless? Do I go on too much without having a clue why and illicit the good old "tl;dr" response? Or do I have a bajillion readers and nobody wants to comment?
It's a weird little conundrum because I've been thinking that it would be amusing to write a book on the same lines as this blog. A couple hundred pages of opinion, backed by faulty reason and pop-culture references. In terms of marketability I think there's something to it, there are people out there who will read anything if they think it benefits them in some way, so if I played it off as a explanation of the thinking of a "child of the internet" it could probably sell to the older generations who want to understand their kids. Of course, everyone else can just go read a better written blog for free, but who cares about them?
Now, I'd never actually bother to write a book like that unless a publisher approached me with a big sack of cash, but I do think that there is some merit to the idea even if I'm probably not the best person to execute it.
Which brings me back to point, I don't know if anyone reads this so all I have to work from here is assumptions on what I think the response is. This book idea could be a source of millions or it could be completely stupid.
On the other hand though, the only reason I ever started doing this was to waste time rambling on about subjects that I felt like talking about. An open-ended rant with no purpose or direction other than to see how far my brain takes it and to possibly entertain a few people who are more cynical than I am and are amused by the fact that my views are stupid, bias and devoid of reason.
In short people, if you're reading this blog, let me know. It may not be well advertised, the views of the writer may be moronic and excessively long, but sometimes it's nice to know that I'm not completely anonymous and wasting my time.
That being said, I realise that asking for feedback defies the original purpose of this blog, but this book idea. . . I really want to see something published with the title "LAWL BEWBIES!" and anything that even hints that could be a reality would amuse me.
16 December, 2007
Why Do I Bother?
I don't get clubbing.
Every time I go I end up having a pretty dull time, and lose a lot of money paying for overpriced drinks and the inevitable taxi ride home.
There are just so many things about clubbing that just don't work for me, matter of fact, if it wasn't for the scantily clad women dancing and the alcohol, I probably wouldn't have bothered even considering going clubbing ever. Oddly enough, a lot of things about clubbing are just plain fucked up.
Let's start with the obvious.
Dancing
I hate dancing. With a passion.
Not only do I completely suck at it, but I think it's a completely pointless exercise that would be considered completely retarded if you took it out of context. Think about it, you've got a group of people making somewhat random movements to music (although a lot of the time it's not in time to the music, especially in cases like mine) that would look absolutely stupid if done independently. Especially the whole shuffling thing.
Although the pants guys wear whilst shuffling are highly amusing, but that's another issue for another rant.
A lot of people who can dance manage to look like complete pricks whilst doing it too. When I last went clubbing (on Friday night) there was this one guy who made a habit of standing in the middle of the dancefloor and pointing at the DJ booth for no apparent reason for some period of time. Then you have the guy who had the orange shirt who was obviously high on something, or the three girls in what was essentially their underwear and a cropped little tutu. . . thing who got onto the raised platforms at the same time and started dancing together.
Okay, they didn't look like pricks, but it was definitely worth mentioning as a weird little event.
Then there's the music.
The majority of the time it's half-assed remixes of shitty pop/hip hop music that listening to is only slightly better than sticking an ice pick repeatedly up my nose. The rest of the time it's some weird techno shit I just don't get. I guess it's unreasonable to expect to hear Sonata Arctica in a club, but seriously . . . damn.
There's a reason the only time I listen to the radio is when there's nothing else whatsoever to listen to, and even then I listen to Triple J so I don't have to put up with the complete and utter shit that plays on most commercial radio stations, even if a few things manage to sneak onto Triple J that suck as much, if not more than shit on stations like Nova.
Then there's the whole socialising thing. I just don't understand how people are able to socialise properly in a nightclub when it's so loud in there you can barely hear what's being said. I'm sure an experienced nightclub goer might be able to comprehend the complexities of conversing in a place like that, but more I think it's just a lot more likely that conversational skills are not what people are looking for. Seeing as I much prefer a girl who can talk about topics that interest me, or at least talk about topics in a way that interests me, seems a little hard for me to see how my normal methods of approach exactly work.
Actually, they don't work outside of nightclubs either, but there is slightly less failure outside of nightclubs.
Throw in various complaints about taxis sucking and you get the general gist of why I hate clubbing. Maybe I should try something else that's slightly more enjoyable and also involves alcohol. How about I replace the venom in some cobras with tequila and see what happens? Sounds a lot less painful and probably has better music.
Every time I go I end up having a pretty dull time, and lose a lot of money paying for overpriced drinks and the inevitable taxi ride home.
There are just so many things about clubbing that just don't work for me, matter of fact, if it wasn't for the scantily clad women dancing and the alcohol, I probably wouldn't have bothered even considering going clubbing ever. Oddly enough, a lot of things about clubbing are just plain fucked up.
Let's start with the obvious.
Dancing
I hate dancing. With a passion.
Not only do I completely suck at it, but I think it's a completely pointless exercise that would be considered completely retarded if you took it out of context. Think about it, you've got a group of people making somewhat random movements to music (although a lot of the time it's not in time to the music, especially in cases like mine) that would look absolutely stupid if done independently. Especially the whole shuffling thing.
Although the pants guys wear whilst shuffling are highly amusing, but that's another issue for another rant.
A lot of people who can dance manage to look like complete pricks whilst doing it too. When I last went clubbing (on Friday night) there was this one guy who made a habit of standing in the middle of the dancefloor and pointing at the DJ booth for no apparent reason for some period of time. Then you have the guy who had the orange shirt who was obviously high on something, or the three girls in what was essentially their underwear and a cropped little tutu. . . thing who got onto the raised platforms at the same time and started dancing together.
Okay, they didn't look like pricks, but it was definitely worth mentioning as a weird little event.
Then there's the music.
The majority of the time it's half-assed remixes of shitty pop/hip hop music that listening to is only slightly better than sticking an ice pick repeatedly up my nose. The rest of the time it's some weird techno shit I just don't get. I guess it's unreasonable to expect to hear Sonata Arctica in a club, but seriously . . . damn.
There's a reason the only time I listen to the radio is when there's nothing else whatsoever to listen to, and even then I listen to Triple J so I don't have to put up with the complete and utter shit that plays on most commercial radio stations, even if a few things manage to sneak onto Triple J that suck as much, if not more than shit on stations like Nova.
Then there's the whole socialising thing. I just don't understand how people are able to socialise properly in a nightclub when it's so loud in there you can barely hear what's being said. I'm sure an experienced nightclub goer might be able to comprehend the complexities of conversing in a place like that, but more I think it's just a lot more likely that conversational skills are not what people are looking for. Seeing as I much prefer a girl who can talk about topics that interest me, or at least talk about topics in a way that interests me, seems a little hard for me to see how my normal methods of approach exactly work.
Actually, they don't work outside of nightclubs either, but there is slightly less failure outside of nightclubs.
Throw in various complaints about taxis sucking and you get the general gist of why I hate clubbing. Maybe I should try something else that's slightly more enjoyable and also involves alcohol. How about I replace the venom in some cobras with tequila and see what happens? Sounds a lot less painful and probably has better music.
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