Motley Crue fans are a pretty devoted bunch. I spotted this number plate on a delivery truck here in Melbourne.
(For those who don’t know, Nikki Sixx is a member of Motley Crue.)
Monthly Archive for November, 2005
George W. Bush ending a press conference in style. Make sure you watch the video.
Moving house is hard enough. But moving interstate is a pain in the colo-rectal region.
Today the removalists came around and took about ¾ of our things (books, clothes, beds, cabinets, chests of drawers etc.). We’re left with a fridge, a bed, a PC, eating and cooking utensils and enough clothing to last a month. The terrace house looks neat and tidy now with a distinct minimalist feel – like a funky hairdressing salon. You know the type. Painted white with 3 chairs, a mirror, a stainless steel front desk and nothing else. I could really get used to this minimalist living thing.
For a start there’s plenty of room for me to do backspins when I get bored. No more will I bang the back of my head or my feet on the couch while spinning. Not that I always resort to random attempts at breakdancing to pass the hours, but I like to entertain the cat when nobody is around. I’m sure he thinks I’m cool even if everybody else thinks I’m a nutbag.
The other advantage of having bugger-all in the house is that if anybody breaks in over the next 3 weeks they’re most likely going to be very disappointed. It’ll look like somebody has beaten them to the joint. No CDs, no valuables, just a fridge and a beaten up old PC (and a cat waiting for the burglars to get down and rip out some awesome backspins).
Housekeeping isn’t our forté either. The amount of dust and spider’s webs around this house is pathetic really. It’s not like we never vacuum or sweep. It’s just that we never vacuum or sweep under anything. Why? If you can’t see it , it’s not there. Right? Come to think of it, that’s probably why I get the sneezes every now and again. Still, the Daddy-Long-Legs protection society will love us. We have at least 30 of the buggers patrolling the roof and cornices.
The wagonwheels have collapsed. The horses have bolted. The whip fell in the mud and the canvas canopy of the wagon was torn to shreds as it crashed to the ground and was pierced by loose gravel and sharp stones.
Yes…
I had 3 beers and a wine last night. I knew I wouldn’t last. The Phoenix ruined everything. The beer looked cool and inviting, the music was cool and that very pubby aroma of smoke and alcohol as I walked in was just too much for me to resist. The best thing was that I didn’t make an arsehole out of myself. Moderation Tony, moderation.
Well.
There comes a time in everybody’s life when they really wonder why alcohol was invented. I drank waaay too much of it last Friday night and made a absolute dick of myself (the bits I can remember anyway).
I’m learning how to use a set of reins and I’m jumping on that good ole’ wagon for about three months I reckon. Phew. For those that know me, you’ll all be giving me 5 days on the wagon. But, I remain determined to stay on the wagon for 3 months and then come crashing off the bastard…headfirst …at some stage in February. Let’s see how I go.
Sorry for the outburst yesterday. It is much like a rant I would have let rip a couple of years ago. For those who might not have guessed, I cannot stand Australian political movements at the moment and have scant regard for any of the bastards who wheel, deal and squeal behind the scenes. And the Australian public is getting dumber. Call me an idiot for saying that, but if you voted conservative at the last election – I hope your house gets robbed by an underpaid worker you dickwad.
On to some more things that will always remind me of Melbourne.
Only in Richmond will you see something as desparate as this. A shopping trolley that has had it’s wheels stolen! I’ve never seen anything like this before – and when I stopped to get a six-pack and some vegies at Richmond Plaza on the way home this afternoon, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Richmond is a suburb that oozes excess and desperation at the same time, yet the suburb seems to function pretty normally considering the diverse backgrounds of its inhabitants, the wide gap between the haves and the have-nots and its population density. Lately the northern part of Richmond (along Victoria St. bordering Abbotsford) has been overrun by heroin, which hasn’t been a visible problem since 1999/2000. While it’s always been there, only in the last 6 months has the dealing become blatant along with the other aspects of drug dependency like street prostitution. Being asked by a whacked out 17/18 year old if I ‘wanted a good time’ while sitting in my car at an intersection just makes me weep for those poor buggers. Heroin does evil things to its dependants.
It’s the first time I’ve ever taken a photo with the camera in my phone too. They really do work!
Ahh. The blogging world will be in fits of anger, triumph, despair, annoyance and disappointment tonight as Australian media whores wine and dine and sixty-nine on the news that a dozen or so blokes have been arrested, one of them shot in the neck, for allegedly planning to blow up stuff.
Pundits will be praising the authorities for their proactiveness and bagging Bobby Brown for daring to suggest a conspiracy. There’ll be other pundits bemoaning the loss of the good old “innocent until proven guilty” theory (it’s been gone for some time now).
Frankly, my TV is going to be off tonight and for the duration of the week. If I so much as see Ruddock or Howard’s face, or hear their voices I will go red in the face, wee my pants and bury my head in several sofa cushions to scream random obscene phrases (that’s so I don’t get into trouble from the Mrs. – I’d better not wee my pants then either because the mop broke last night). Just the thought of John Howard saying “May I just say…” once more makes me feel nauseous.
Yeah, planning to blow up things (and people) is bad, but for flipsake I wish politicians of all breeds would stop grandstanding. I just hope that one day they’ll just leave the relevant authorities to do their work without whipping up fear, hatred and mistrust within the general public.
Oh, here’s one more picture of my favourite sights around Melbourne. 120 Collins St. just out at the sky when looking from the corner of Exhibition and Little Bourke St.
Two record stores that have expanded my musical horizons over the last 8 years in Melbourne are Greville Records and Obese Records in Prahran.
In the beginning there was Richmond.
Early 1998 saw me take a gamble. I bought a one way flight to Melbourne from Brisbane and after 10 days in a squalid backpacker hostel I found myself in a shared house in Lennox St. Richmond.
My room was the the second story bit that is jutting up from the house. It was an excellent room. A 4.5 metre square room with a fireplace and spiral staircase access from the living room downstairs. It was full of natural light but the only problem was that there was no door. Whatever went on in the living room, I heard. Likewise, whatever happened in my room was heard in the living room.
4 flatmates went through the place while I was there. Beth, Natasha, Dana and Paul. I left once pot started to get smoked and my money started disappearing from my bedside table. Such is life with sharehousing. 95% of people are amiable, polite, forgiving, thoughtful and humourous. The other 5% are recalcitrant turds, only caring for themselves and little else.
I left the Lennox St. house in November 1999 and moved to Clifton Hill. That was a good move. Clifton Hill had only 1 pub within walking distance. Lennox St. had about, oh let’s see, 12 pubs within a 10 minute stroll from the front door. That got a little dangerous towards the end of my time there, hence the move.
Said…