Hello.
Do I know you?
Are you famous?
Have we shared a dance?
Have you seen my silly faces?
Do you have a silly face?
Does your bottom lip touch your nose?
Do you have teeth?
You're beautiful?
I can't see you.
I have forgotton everything...
Friday, June 25, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Hulls and Sails
Hey mate.
Oh hi. You still workin with yachts?
Yes mate. Everyday. What we do is yachts. All day everyday. Anything to do with yachts is our business. Yachts mate. It's what we do.
Ahhh ok mate. Good to know. Im in need of a sail. Can ya help me?
No mate. Sails we dont do.
Oh. Ok. Id have thought sails were a major part of the yacht business no?
Yes mate.
What yes?
Yes they are a major part of the yacht business but we dont touch them. No money in sails mate.
Right then. Well, I tell ya what, smashed a huge hole in me hull on Sundee mate. and I was wondering if you..
We dont touch hulls mate.
No hulls?
Nope.
No sails?
Uh uh. Sails and hulls mate we dont touch..
I seeeeee.....You ahhhhh..sorry mate...Im not sure where to go next?
Anything to do with yachts mate. Go ahead. We are your first port of call....
Ummm. We have a bunk down below in the sleeping quarters that could use a new rung in the ladder?
Done and dusted mate. New rung in ladder leading to top bunk, done. Yachts mate. You gotta love em.
Yessss. Listen, could you recommend anyone to take a look at the hull and sail?
Ooooooooaa, that's a toughy champ. You could try 'Hulls and Sails' in the city...Might be able to help ya out.
Hulls and sails ey? Yep. Ill give them a go. Maybe Ill hold off on the ladder champ.
Oh...Sure. Rung on ladder on hold...Sure.
What?
Ahhh nothing, just sort of seems like you extracted the information you needed from me to get your yacht fixed and then shut me down with the whole ladder thing and Im....well. Never mind. Just feel a little....
Confused?
Yeh...Used, confused. You name it. I feel it.
Sad?
Nope not sad.
Oh hi. You still workin with yachts?
Yes mate. Everyday. What we do is yachts. All day everyday. Anything to do with yachts is our business. Yachts mate. It's what we do.
Ahhh ok mate. Good to know. Im in need of a sail. Can ya help me?
No mate. Sails we dont do.
Oh. Ok. Id have thought sails were a major part of the yacht business no?
Yes mate.
What yes?
Yes they are a major part of the yacht business but we dont touch them. No money in sails mate.
Right then. Well, I tell ya what, smashed a huge hole in me hull on Sundee mate. and I was wondering if you..
We dont touch hulls mate.
No hulls?
Nope.
No sails?
Uh uh. Sails and hulls mate we dont touch..
I seeeeee.....You ahhhhh..sorry mate...Im not sure where to go next?
Anything to do with yachts mate. Go ahead. We are your first port of call....
Ummm. We have a bunk down below in the sleeping quarters that could use a new rung in the ladder?
Done and dusted mate. New rung in ladder leading to top bunk, done. Yachts mate. You gotta love em.
Yessss. Listen, could you recommend anyone to take a look at the hull and sail?
Ooooooooaa, that's a toughy champ. You could try 'Hulls and Sails' in the city...Might be able to help ya out.
Hulls and sails ey? Yep. Ill give them a go. Maybe Ill hold off on the ladder champ.
Oh...Sure. Rung on ladder on hold...Sure.
What?
Ahhh nothing, just sort of seems like you extracted the information you needed from me to get your yacht fixed and then shut me down with the whole ladder thing and Im....well. Never mind. Just feel a little....
Confused?
Yeh...Used, confused. You name it. I feel it.
Sad?
Nope not sad.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Wopsy
What a beautiful day! Wonderous clear formula for thought...A stiff southerly blows my hair northbound..And I must say I am looking the goods.
A young man yells out of his ute, get a real bike you fuckin shiela...Stunned out of my bliss, I return fire albeit a little late with, it's a family bike ya fuckin redneck. I look for brake lights..None forthcoming, we mark that one down as a victory. Best take a side street just to be safe...He's probably wondering why I returned fire with a compliment..
Round the back of Nichloson St faceless factories watch me cruise by cautiously. Them, not me. I am Isaw Isonn and there is nothing cautious about me. Pedal-mania here. Im gunna whip and strip all day. Watch me. A whip whip here and a strip whip there. Here a whip, there a whi
Shit. The ute. Faceless factory. Ute pulling in. Pale hateful face that hasnt seen the sun in so long sees me. Isaw Isonn. Dreaded calm comes over me. He's big and reckless and from the suburbs. I am too so I can spot em a mile off....Joe? Shit, I bet it's a Darren...Nickname..'Wopsy' The kind of nickname only a tough guy can pull off. Actually he cant pull it off, it's a name for a fuckin rabbit, but no one can tell him that. One guy did... I can see it all now.. Oustide the Shamrock...Biting ears off at the hot dog van, pounding flesh mate...My flesh!! He loves the taste of it.
By the time Isaw Isonn, whom by the way has had his cautiousness reinstated by the ute that looks like an over sized jetski cruises past, Wopsy is just getting out of his ute.
My heart is a fat banana...What was it my ma said about seeing that line in yer head and not crossing over it? Shit that was in relation to me mooning me uncle..Not gunna help now.
Silent cruising. Not looking but feeling the air around me....
Where'd ya get that family bike?
Ivanhoe Bikes. Free first up service....
Bracing for the stray piece of concrete to be hurled like a Croydon North long gully (youve lost your drive Wopsy), footsteps spaced together like a Lilydale seconds hack (give up the fags Woppers), I pedal like a goose doth paddle ...With incredible grace yet amazing efficiency...
Upon reaching the workshop, BV greets me with a packet of frozen peas at the ready.
I take a seat in the shop, and place them peas upon my burning thighs.
Time for a game mate? he says paddle in hand.
I got none..
A young man yells out of his ute, get a real bike you fuckin shiela...Stunned out of my bliss, I return fire albeit a little late with, it's a family bike ya fuckin redneck. I look for brake lights..None forthcoming, we mark that one down as a victory. Best take a side street just to be safe...He's probably wondering why I returned fire with a compliment..
Round the back of Nichloson St faceless factories watch me cruise by cautiously. Them, not me. I am Isaw Isonn and there is nothing cautious about me. Pedal-mania here. Im gunna whip and strip all day. Watch me. A whip whip here and a strip whip there. Here a whip, there a whi
Shit. The ute. Faceless factory. Ute pulling in. Pale hateful face that hasnt seen the sun in so long sees me. Isaw Isonn. Dreaded calm comes over me. He's big and reckless and from the suburbs. I am too so I can spot em a mile off....Joe? Shit, I bet it's a Darren...Nickname..'Wopsy' The kind of nickname only a tough guy can pull off. Actually he cant pull it off, it's a name for a fuckin rabbit, but no one can tell him that. One guy did... I can see it all now.. Oustide the Shamrock...Biting ears off at the hot dog van, pounding flesh mate...My flesh!! He loves the taste of it.
By the time Isaw Isonn, whom by the way has had his cautiousness reinstated by the ute that looks like an over sized jetski cruises past, Wopsy is just getting out of his ute.
My heart is a fat banana...What was it my ma said about seeing that line in yer head and not crossing over it? Shit that was in relation to me mooning me uncle..Not gunna help now.
Silent cruising. Not looking but feeling the air around me....
Where'd ya get that family bike?
Ivanhoe Bikes. Free first up service....
Bracing for the stray piece of concrete to be hurled like a Croydon North long gully (youve lost your drive Wopsy), footsteps spaced together like a Lilydale seconds hack (give up the fags Woppers), I pedal like a goose doth paddle ...With incredible grace yet amazing efficiency...
Upon reaching the workshop, BV greets me with a packet of frozen peas at the ready.
I take a seat in the shop, and place them peas upon my burning thighs.
Time for a game mate? he says paddle in hand.
I got none..
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Birds
I have a syndrome. 'Bird Watching Syndrome'
As far as we can tell, I have had it all my life and started showing symptoms around the age of six.
It involves the need to see a bird, any bird every 20-30 seconds or so. The bird must be alive, a simple picture of a bird will not suffice. It will lessen the ill effects, but it will not suffice. I carry a pocket full of scrunched up wattle birds and princess parrots for when real birds are not to be seen.
It is not a common syndrome as far as I can tell, infact Ive not heard of it before. Doctors may have, however Ive never consulted one before...It is not the type of thing a general practitioner would empathise with in my mind. Those close to me know about it....much to their chagrin
I scream fits of blue murder if the alloted time should pass without me seeing a bird. It's a problem. I spend each passage of time (20-30 seconds) counting down and scanning the sky, the trees, gutters on houses, bushes, telephone wires, chimneys, TV antennas and any other domesticated object, for a bird. Should one not appear, I immediately spill into a fit of screaming, mock convulsions, grabbing at my pockets for my princes parrot until a real bird should flutter by and start the clock all over again....
The relief I feel as a bird comes into view whether at the 7 second mark or the 47 second mark is palpable and my whole family, breathes a sigh of relief. But that sense of relief is quickly brushed aside as the clock starts again. My exhausted face, tenses again and the inner count begins...
It happens in bed, on trains, at school, the workshop, at a bar, during Christmas, eating spaghetti, Sunday afternnons, Tuesday evenings...like I said.
Every 20-30 seconds.
There is no cure. I don't want one anymore.
I just want birds.
As far as we can tell, I have had it all my life and started showing symptoms around the age of six.
It involves the need to see a bird, any bird every 20-30 seconds or so. The bird must be alive, a simple picture of a bird will not suffice. It will lessen the ill effects, but it will not suffice. I carry a pocket full of scrunched up wattle birds and princess parrots for when real birds are not to be seen.
It is not a common syndrome as far as I can tell, infact Ive not heard of it before. Doctors may have, however Ive never consulted one before...It is not the type of thing a general practitioner would empathise with in my mind. Those close to me know about it....much to their chagrin
I scream fits of blue murder if the alloted time should pass without me seeing a bird. It's a problem. I spend each passage of time (20-30 seconds) counting down and scanning the sky, the trees, gutters on houses, bushes, telephone wires, chimneys, TV antennas and any other domesticated object, for a bird. Should one not appear, I immediately spill into a fit of screaming, mock convulsions, grabbing at my pockets for my princes parrot until a real bird should flutter by and start the clock all over again....
The relief I feel as a bird comes into view whether at the 7 second mark or the 47 second mark is palpable and my whole family, breathes a sigh of relief. But that sense of relief is quickly brushed aside as the clock starts again. My exhausted face, tenses again and the inner count begins...
It happens in bed, on trains, at school, the workshop, at a bar, during Christmas, eating spaghetti, Sunday afternnons, Tuesday evenings...like I said.
Every 20-30 seconds.
There is no cure. I don't want one anymore.
I just want birds.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Drinkin mama's cider
I have been in Hadesville...Sipping on a tonic that kept me down...You've all seen it once again...Oh yeh, Isaw? He's down at the bar way down deep drinking mama's cider..
I know you always see my darkest moments.
It's the way I tell this story. Publicly. And you all laugh, or even worse, dont laugh...
Well...Today I remembered. I remembered that where I live, where I work, and what I do need no explanation. So here's a massive fuck off to you...
Lick your own assholes, cos Im makin pizza for two here.
Back on yer heads.
I know you always see my darkest moments.
It's the way I tell this story. Publicly. And you all laugh, or even worse, dont laugh...
Well...Today I remembered. I remembered that where I live, where I work, and what I do need no explanation. So here's a massive fuck off to you...
Lick your own assholes, cos Im makin pizza for two here.
Back on yer heads.
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