losers

They're blowing up London again.

Pffft. That's sooo last week..

books, glorious books..

I have no idea where I found this link but reading this guy's list brought tears to my eyes. I love reading. There is nothing - nothing - like the feeling you get when you're swept up by a wonderful story.

Check this out.

Reading that list makes me burst with the memories of reading some of those books, and at the same time yearn and salivate thinking of reading the ones he mentions that I've not come across. I consider myself widely and weirdly read but I've only read four of the titles he mentions and flicked through a couple of others. There are several he mentions that I'd never even heard of - title or author.

I miss reading. I haven't been grabbed by a book for a while now. I have.. *scampers off to count* ..13 books by my bed that I'm in various stages of reading.

But none of them are really connecting with me.

Or, more to the point, I'm not letting them (or am unable to let them) connect. I can't seem to focus enough lately. No just too much happening in my head, I'm used to that confusion continually surrounding me, but too much outside of my head to do.

Yet I seem to be making very little headway anywhere. For instance I'm supposed to be at karate as I type this. But I'm so tired and washed-out after a day in front of a computer doing very little. Ironic that I know I need more exercise but I'm so tired from my inactivity that I can't do it. No, not ironic, the other word.. arse, that's right. It's just arse.

Modern life is rubbish. But I digress.

I just want to curl up with a good book and spend 12 hours reading till I finish it. And not have anything else to think about, anything else to do, anywhere to be. And especially I want to not want to be anywhere else, doing other things. I want to be able to focus on that one thing, to the exclusion of all others.

Life must be so easy and rewarding for mono-maniacs.

please sign the petition

This is important! A girl's life depends on it!

Please Lindsay, Eat!

(filched from Jack's other blog)

housekeeping

I've finally gotten around to updating my blogroll. I held on to some of these links for much longer than I should've in the vain hopes they'd resurface. But now it's time to let go.

For starters: it seems that, true to his word, Pornyboy Curtis has gone for good. Fortunately his blog is still there to read and enjoy his sardonic, pungent wit - although it does seem to be growing mold. Seriously. Go look if you don't believe me. Anyway, good luck whatever you're up to now mate.

Kurly has deleted her blog, unable to cope with the lack of anonymity on the interweb. I understand only too well babe. Fortunately, I know where you live so you can't escape, mwahahahahaha!

Sarah is gone. Again. But this time looks to be a little more permanent, dammit. You will be sorely missed. Hers was the first blog (in it's leto/naked-lady incarnation) that I ever read and it got me hooked into this whole horrible ordeal. Yeah, thanks Sarah..

Sorehead also seems to have disappeared. I know not the whys and wherefores of this because I've had my head up my own arse for some months now. Anyone know anything?

There have been a few name changes and changes of location too, such as Jen relocating to her own boat, Boz deciding he'd had enough of the ennui and assassinating his own character, Kraken undergoing a harmless name change, surtr flouncing back to his livejournal and taking his toys with him.. Yes I know most of these happened ages ago but I'm slow on the updates these days.

Finally I was going to complain about several others that haven't blogged for ages but I realised that would be pot/kettle-esque in light of my recent flurry of inactivity - I wouldn't have me on my blogroll (if you see what I mean). So I'll keep my ineffectual whinging to myself. Well, as much as I ever do.

That's all. Back to bed now, all of you.

happiness is..

On a cool winter's night, watching your cat chasing dead leaves around the backyard.

the backyard

A garden! Finally! After more than 5 years in apartments I get to play with a real backyard! Wheeee!

fun with acronyms

Recently discovered in the Handbook of Official Medical Claptrap that I use at work:

PFO = Pissed and Fell Over

Yes, it's an actual officially recognised acronym. So when you're trying to explain your drunken injuries from the night before in faux-medicalese you can throw that one in to give some semblance of credibility.

Some amusing names I've had recently include Dr Young Hoon, Dr A Mok, Dr Goodenough, and the oh-so-unfortunately named Dr A Nally. No I don't think he was a proctologist. Shame but.

Best surname award has to go to the Sarcasmo family. God, that's so good I want to change my name..

Best place name recently: Kinkii Cemetery. I *so* want to be buried there!

Umm.. That's all.

Apologies for the lack of communication. I've not been lacking for things to write about or stuff to say, just lacking the words.. and, to tell the truth, suffering from a terrible bout of stage fright.

My cunning plan is to not blog at all for ages until everyone goes away and forgets about me.

Insecurity, thy name is fishboy.

up sticks

Moving time. Physically I mean - this blog, such as it is, will remain where it is.

But I've had enough of Darlinghurst. I've had enough of this pokey wee flat.

Had enough of not having a garden, having a busy road within a stone's throw, and not being able to find a parking spot within half a klick of the house.

I've definitely had enough of neighbours.

The guy upstairs is nice enough: genial and polite. Although his eyebrows are bushy enough to hide several species of endangered marsupial. They're a little scary.. But I digress. As usual. My problem with him is his feet.

Specifically that they appear to be made of lead. Or at least that's what it sounds like when he wanders around up there. I've nicknamed him The Man with the Golden Feet because of that. But then I tend to make up names for people. I just never usually share them..

So yes, getting away from his feet will be wonderful. And away from his stereo and xbox.

The stereo has been an issue for a while - I mean, I like the Scissor Sisters too but selected songs on repeat all day is getting a little too much. And Warren Zevon was an awesome cool guy but I really don't need to hear "Werewolves of London" 8 TIMES IN A ROW!

The downstairs guy.. Well, I've documented my first run in with him.. ah *rummages in archives* here.

I've not had to get all alpha male on him since and he's been on the whole pretty quiet but every once in a while he just has to cut loose and slam those doors of his.

I just don't need this shit anymore. It's messing with my mental feng shui.

So this weekend we're moving to Glebe. To a larger house with a big garden for Griffin to go nuts in.

It'll be great. After the horror of moving is done. God I hate shifting house although this is nothing compared to the hideousness of my shift from NZ.

So hopefully my next update will be from my new home. Although when we'll have a phone on is anyone's guess.

raggin' on the dragon

I don't usually post these things but this one is abso-fucking-lutely hilarious.

*still giggling*

sugar pill goodness

Now everything will be alright - these things cure everything you know..

Thanks Surtr!