crapski

Well, I was going to blog pointless inconsequentialities about my day. Like the psycho busdriver I had this morning (never trust anyone with a small moustache and a uniform..), or the Amishly bearded men who run the convenience store near my work (odd choices in beards but lovely guys), or the most amusing name I came across today (Rumph: if that was my name I'd be unable to resist naming one of my children Ha).

But all that has been ejected from my mind by the discovery, just now, that I'm booked in for jumping out of a plane on Saturday..

Holy crap.

I wonder if I can convince them to let me do the jump before the take off?

grogblogging

So I'm a wee bit drunkywunky..

So I spent some of the evening trapped in a room with seven girly girls all straightening their hair and talking about nail polish and how many times they'd been to the gym that week and how much weight they'd lost/gained recently.

So it was fucking hell.

So I managed to escape, with the help of a campadre, to the boys' flat next door. Where we played drinking games and listened to music and talked about shit. And had fun.

So we listened to some shit-hot breaks and funk. And some beatboxing from Rahzel which has to be heard to be believed.. That guy can make amazing sounds.

So I actually had a really good evening.

MorningAfterEdit: Managed to remember to drink water before sleep last night so not hungover. No calls on the great white telephone this morning.

I seem to remember wandering around the interweb scattering comments to the wind whilst under the affluence of incahol. If you were the unfortunate recipient of my drunken rambles I apologise profusely. Now I must go drink coffee and go to the beach.

snaily mailee

I've had a few takers for the great fishy mailout, fortunately not too many or you'd all be getting one page of notes scribbled on the bus to/from work.

They'll be posted in order of whim, so don't think because you were first in you'll be getting one immediately Bro. Anyway, I'm now going to go find a shadey(ish) spot on the roof and write.. perhaps.. or maybe just enjoy this glorious day.

the old fashioned way

Right, here's an offer that you can easily refuse.

Since I'm so totally failing in the email department (there are people I owe email to that have probably forgotten who I am) I am henceforth (and fifth) declaring that if you give me your snail mail address I will write to you. Yes, I will actually put pen to paper and physically make the chicken scratchings I pass off as writing.

Then I will [drumroll] post it to you!

Wherever in the world you happen to be.

I make no promises as to the quality of the letters, in fact I can pretty well guarantee that they'll be shite, even if you manage to decipher my munted hieroglyphic-like scrawl. But I will write.

This I do swear on my fishy heart.

Email me, if you don't want to leave your addy in the comments.
fishboy AT gmail DOT com.

Any takers?

PS You've got till the 18th of December, coz I'm flapping my way back to NZ then and won't be writing much while I'm away. People to see, places to go. You know how it is.

books

I bought a book yesterday. First book I've bought for a while, perhaps 6 weeks. Which, for someone who used never to go through a week without purchasing at least a couple of books (and a cd, but that's another story), is an alarming trend.

My book reading has tapered off since discovering weblogs. And, although I love the interwebthing and am NOT giving it up, I miss the books.

I miss having a stack of books by my bed, reading them all at the same time (no, not like that you idiot, reading them concurrently).

I miss having books in my bed. Under my bed. Under my pillow. *sigh*

But anyway, yes I bought a book. It's Iain M. Banks' latest sci-fi, The Algebraist. And I already love it simply for the gorgeous cover. I'll keep you posted on it.

In other book news, the woman reading Siddhartha on the bus finished it today. The guy who's reading The Catcher in the Rye wasn't there, or I at least I didn't see him, but he's been going on that book for so long now I think he's just doing it for the pose value.

I haven't seen the Hemingway woman for a while (I keep missing that bus), but the woman that reads pulpy crap was reading some such pulpy crap again today.. can't even remember what it was.

The most amusing thing recently was the 50ish very dapper greying businessman in an impeccably tailored suit reading a street press (Drummedia or somesuch) article on Missy Elliot. That had me smiling all morning.

Edit: I got mail from my favourite superhero today. I refer of course to Cerebus the Aardvark, he of the snout-punch and third-person monologues. Well, not directly from him, from him via his creator who's giveaway meme I saw mentioned by Neil Gaiman.

So I am the proud owner of a copy of Cerebus #164 signed by Dave Sim and Gerhard.

I love this comic, despite the fact Sim has degenerated into a frothing loon (google him and you'll get links to some mysogynist forum thingy..). I just love the way it looks, and the first 150ish issues are cracklingly brilliant.

rhetorical question

How good are mangoes?

Oh.My.God.

Ok, go on - you can answer.

But be aware that if your answer isn't along the lines of "spoogingly good" it will be treated with the scorn it deserves.

confession

I have a shameful secret. One that, if revealed will destroy my pinko lefty faux-Gothy underachieving alternative cool facade..

I don't like Radiohead.

I know, I know. I will never again be able to hold my head up in hip subcultural society.

Especially with my other shameful secret:

I like Dire Straits.

I'm so so terribly uncool...

caught by the fuzz

I've grown back a goatee.

Just a small one. One of those tufty things that look wanky on most people and cool on a very few. And a bit silly on me.

But it's been nearly 5 months without facial hair and with a shaving regime more rigorous than any I've had before in my life. So I need a area that I don't have to shave, a sort of hairy oasis (to conjure a rather revolting image).

But now, a few weeks into it, I'm reconsidering.

Because the damn thing is developing a seriously grey look. Or "salt and pepper" to be more pompous.

Bloody hell, am I going to have to start dying my facial hair?

moving pictures

I've been thinking about movies a lot lately. I've not been going to very many lately and this is beginning to pain me.

I used to go to perhaps a movie a week when I lived in Christchurch, there were benefits to being in a small city and living in the center of it. I had a great independant movie theatre 200m from my front door, another pseudo-non-mainstream one within 5 minutes walk, and a Rialto 5 minutes bike away.

Happy times. But now I think I've been spoilt: I can't seem to get organised/keep the enthusiasm up for the 30-45 minutes it takes to get to any of the movie theatres around here.

Yes I know it's just laziness and bad time-management but those are two of my defining traits. If I am not late for everything then I am not fishboy.

But anyway, I've uploaded to my brain-dump blog some movie lists from previous years. I seem to have mislaid last year's list and haven't collated the bits of paper pertaining to this years' so it's only from '98 to '02. But I'll add the others as (if!) I get organised.

2002
2001
2000
1999
1998

I'll add commentary or a rating system (chocolate fish?) at some stage.
Probably.
Well, almost certainly, because there are some movies that people need to be warned about.
Like 'The Avengers'
*shudders*
avoid avoid avoid..

interesting times

Be careful what you wish for.

So, on my way back from a mammoth karate session (oh my aching toes.. trust me - it's the toes that suffer most) and the first bus I catch is packed so I'm standing. The next stop some crazy guy gets on, shuffles down the aisle a bit and takes a swing at me.

My finely honed reflexes prevent any contact (naturally) so I just stare at the guy in bemusement. Not very Yoshukai I know, I should have dismembered him and beaten his pulped corpse with his own limbs. But it's been a long day, give me a break. There's only so much bodily violence you can dish out on a daily basis.

Anyway, he just wanders on past muttering to himself and sits down the back.

Frankly I'm impressed with myself - I must have looked so cool. Well, I did in my own mind.

Don't burst my bubble dammit.

The next bus I caught was completely empty at first but the first person other than me to board it chose for some inexplicable reason to sit right in front of me. And was wearing pungent and offensive aftershave. My nostrils are still seared. On the other hand he was wearing what would be almost cool on someone else - a pink shirt with little Space Invaders all over it. I want one!

Then the next stop some muttering woman gets on and sits right behind me. At which point I'm beginning to feel uneasy. Like I'm in some horror movie and they'll all turn out to be zombies. Or Mormans. Or zombie Mormans. Or whatever.

Then the very next person, a morbidly obese woman with loud headphones, gets on and sits right across the aisle from me. At this stage I'm holding my bag ready to break the window and run screaming "Undead! Undead!". Or something.

The next two passengers obviously sense there's something seriously amiss at the Circle K and sit as far away from me as possible. Bastards, they were just hanging me out there as bait for the evil dead.

The next two are a pair of diminutive Asian girls carrying large parcels. I didn't trust them one bit. Especially when they looked up the bus and came & sat right behind the headphones woman, who at this stage I was convinced was receiving messages in the music and sooner or later there'd be the trigger code to send her on a bloody killing rampage.

I could almost hear the muttering woman behind me repeating "one of us.. one of us" under her breath.

So, deciding that running the fuck away is the better part of valor, I got off hurriedly at the next stop.

The fishboy fabled freak magnet strikes again. Damn, I thought I'd lost that thing.

all apologies

Not really. Just had the song in my mind.

So..

Hmmm

Look it's just not going to happen tonight. There's far too much swirling in this poor overloaded wee head of mine. Some of it desperately wants out but that's the stuff that has to be reined in hardest. Woah horsies.

The rest.. well I don't really have much to boast of in my mundane day to day existance.

wake grudgingly
make coffee
log on
drink coffee
browse weblogs
shower
iron shirt
get dressed
brush teeth
start to leave
remember to shave
make sure I have everything
forget something
leave house
walk to bus stop
daydream
miss bus
stand on side of road watching people till next bus
daydream
sit on bus watching people
go to work
work
work
work
daydream
work
work
coffee and muffin
work
work
chat with work mates
work
work
daydream
work
miss lunch
work
daydream
snack
daydream
work
leave work
wait for bus
daydream
watch people
catch bus
daydream
walk home from bus stop
log on
check mail
browse weblogs
chat
cook dinner
eat
surf aimlessly
think about writing
read other people's writings
think about commenting
surf aimlessly
go to bed far too late
at some stage, sleep

Christ it even bored me just writing that.

it has begun..

and I have writers block already..