The Rest of Your Life (v3.0)

Listening To: Clawfinger : Clawfinger

Current Horn Factor :

How was your weekend guys ? Mine officially started about 17:30 on Friday afternoon, after a hardcore 1 hour+, two person ‘panel’ interview at work for a ‘Client Service Executive’ role. The latter is a job I used to seriously covet – pretty much ever since I first started working here almost 2 years ago. The reasons were mainly to do with the wages (bound to be better than pitiful rate I started on initialy, and defenitely bound to be better than the crappy (expired) contract I’m now on), the chance for more people interraction and less staring at a PC all day … and if I’m honest, the chance to work in the only area of our business which actually features some quality female ‘glamours’.

Given I’ve been happily seeing the fabulous IG (glamma78) for almost 8 months now, and we got engaged a while back (more on that to follow in another post), that particular motivation for the job has well and truly evaporated. I’m also getting somewhat sick of working for this company/in FMCG’s again (which is the reason I left the first time around), and given the appalling trends with regards to payrates in the rest of the business, I’m quickly reaching the bitter conclusion even the CSE roles are bound to be woefully underpaid compared to industry norms. To top it all off, I was informed on Friday that the interview process to secure one of these roles is going to be especially long and convoluted, and may involved up to four or five separate rounds of interviews and presentations on my part – so after a weekend of introspection I’ve come to the inescapable conclusion I’m not overly thrilled about this prospective role. Methinks it’s time I kick looking for work elsewhere up another few notches !

OK, all that aside – as I said, my weekend started about half past five on Friday arvo, after my hardcore interview. Had a brief chat with my fiancé on the phone before leaving work, and rocked up @ her place (after going home to change) around 19:45. I’d told her to dress in something “funky & casual” without telling her where we were going, and she didn’t disappoint – coming downstairs from her apartment a vision of beauty in a sexy red dress, long black coat and knee high leather boots. The Funky Monkey Taxi Service as represented by yours truly then proceeded to drive her to the city, where I took my baby out for dinner after only a mere 20 minutes of looking for parking. We went for tapas at a popular restaurant in the Spanish quarter – our lack of table booking circumvented by the clever ruse of sneaking in while the lights were dimmed for the staff performing a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ to one of their patrons. The food was great, and followed it up with a brief spell of pseudo-salsa (salsa on IG’s part, pseudo on mine) dancing when we cut in on the birthday revellers’ dancefloor. Fantastic night out, really !

Saturday day was a bit of a write-off as far as I’m concerned. IG went to go see her grandma in the morning, and a Bollywood Dancing class with her mate Erin in the early arvo, while I had to drop my car off at mums place and various handyman things (change lightbulbs, flyscreens etc) to perform while there. I ended up spending more time there than I’d planned, but at least I got storage sorted for the impending move to IG’s, so it wasn’t too bad. Got back to Bondi in the evening, and settled down to a ‘quiet’ night at home watching tele, listening to music, sipping on some yummy wine and other fun things you can do with your fiancé

Sunday morning was a bit of a lazy one, then just before lunchtime IG and I went to buy her a new outfit for the afternoons impending action. Said afternoons ‘action’ consisted of a singing competition at PJ Gallaghers Hotel @ Parramatta in which IG was entered, and which is the reason for the title of this post. Y’see gang, as usual Lisa gave a stellar performance, singing her heart out with the songs she’d been practising all week and looking a million dollars in the sexy outfit she’d picked up for a few well spent quid in Bondi Junction. In fact, if it wasn’t an arrestable offence (and I wasn’t a bit squeemish about fűcking in front of a room full of strangers) I would have liked to have my wicked way with her right there on the stage – that’s how good she looked ! True – in terms of singing alone she had some pretty stiff (pardon the pun) competition – but her combination of looks, talent and determination should have earnt her at least third place, and for a while there it was looking like a serious possibility.

That is, until they brought out the 11 year old. Now I don’t know about you, but I always thought eleven year old kids had their own talent quests ! People who aren’t old enough to drink in a pub shouldn’t be allowed to sing in competitions there either. Logical, right ? Not in this case, it seems. The pre-pubescent was wheeled out on stage complete with a DX-7 (brilliant old-school Yamaha synth), and proceeded to ‘enthrall’ the audience with a composition of her own devising which sounded like a bitter-sweet Delta Goodrem number. Hello … 11 year olds singing about the pain of a broken relationship … is it just me, or is this just wrong ? To make matters worse, this particular eleven year old happened to be the niece of one of the contest judges. Given this, my heart sank as I realised at least one of the winning places was sure to be hers. I wasn’t wrong either !

When the results were finally announced, the top two places went to a couple of genuinly talented ‘semi-professional’ singers from some local cover bands. The third spot went to an old guy called Jimmy, who’d ‘entertained’ us with a crap rendition of ‘Singin in The Rain’. Not surprisingly, I’d also spotted him outside earlier talking to the MC of the competition, and it was clear they were old mates or also possibly related. The ‘audience vote’ ostensibly went to … yep … you guessed it … Mini-Delta … erstwhile niece of the guy judging the competition. Alltogether now …. riiiiipped ooooorf !

Understandably, IG was a little upset. We talked about a night of wine, massage and other skin-on-skin contact to soothe the nerves after such a disappointing loss as we drove to my place to pick up some of my work clothes. We hung out there for a little while and got some dinner, then I gave her a few early birthday presents and we headed back to Bondi. We ended up crashing in front of the TV though when we got there, wine & massage kinda fell by the wayside, and eventually we just went to sleep after a double dose of Goran on Criminal Intent. Not a bad weekend all in all, but that bloody 11 year old should be barred from competing in her uncles singing comps !!!

Listening To: Black Cherry : Goldfrapp

So – in case you haven’t worked it out yet (or you’re not one of our regular readers), I happen to think my partner (the divine IG) is pretty damn cool ! As such, I’m always happy to give the stuff which floats her boat and which I haven’t been exposed to previously at least the one go, if not making it a regular thing for me too. To date among other things, we’ve gone to the Spanish Club to do a bit of latin-dance and I plan on taking classes with her at some point soon when I get my act together. I’ve also accompanied her on several occasions as a spectator when she’s indulged in another of her passions – namely the ancient Japanese (i.e. 1950′s ?) art of Karaoke.

Now you may be thinking “Karaoke … eww… cheese-o-rama !” Yes, it can be. However as Gwyneth Paltrow & Huey Lewis showed in 2000′s Duets … it can also be classy, sexy and downright FUN ! “Sexy” is certainly a phrase I’d associate with IG normally, and this is without a doubt a factor she brings to her singing performances. Not only CAN my baby sing, and sing exceedingly well for all but the hardest numbers or ones she hasn’t tried before, but she also has a great stage presence. Enough of the Lisa-admiration society though … that’s not the primary purpose of this post.

Rather as I’ve already told you, I’m the kinda guy who likes to “give it a go”, especially if it’s something IG is into. Going along merely as a ‘spectator’ just doesn’t cut it, so last weekend after a few glasses of wine and before we went to check out The Eastern in Bondi (a pub we’d never been to previously), I tried my hand at belting out a few tunes along to some of Lisa’s karaoke DVD’s. It was fun, it was hilarious, and we were extremely silly. I had a great time, though in my heart of hearts I *did* just quietly think I kinda sucked. Here’s the boy who’s shamelessly released an EP before. Though I didn’t actually sing on too many tunes on that one, thankgod *s*

Anyhoo … last night rolled around, and Thursday is always karaoke night at a certain Petesham pub IG and I have been frequenting for the purpose. Despite the suckiness of my weekend ‘at-home-performance’, or perhaps because of it, I decided I’d sing a tune or two last night. The last time … nay the ONLY time I’d previously attempted a public karaoke performance was back in 1998, in an Arab-owned Irish Pub in Uppsala, Sweden (try saying THAT three times quickly !). It was a group performance with two drunken lads from Northern Ireland, two Italians and a dude called Barnaby from Boulder Colorado, and I can’t even remember what we sang. ‘Twas one of those crazy ‘lads nights out’ basically.

So it was with a little trepidation that I took the stage – doubled by the inescapable knowledge my partners most recent ex (the only one I occasionally sense a glimmer of nostalgia / regret about) is a semi-professional singer who actually happens to run a karaoke night at Star City Casino, among other places. I know, I know – I think about everything on far too many levels, don’t I groovers ? Anyhow, my first song was “Knocking on Heavens Door” – the only thing I can still play on guitar, having long since lost the skill to play anything else through years of non-practice. Now I must admit I got a bit of stage fright happening for that first number – leg trying to madly jiggle, trouble focusing on the words on the teleprompter despite knowing them by heart, sweaty palms; the whole thing. Nonetheless, to my surprise I don’t think I sucked too badly, despite it being the Dylan (slower) version instead of the G’n'R cover I’m used to.

After my first mini-ordeal finished, I had to stay on stage to do a duet with IG on “Love Shack”. Feeling a little better this time, still need a drink though. Other people go up next, including a solo or two from my partner, before my next song. I choose “Can You Dig It” by PWEI next … not only because I happen to love the song, but also because I’m interested in seeing what it will sound like karaoke-fied. Awful … I’m having to sing most of the bits which use samples in the original (and damn cool samples too), and the backing beat sounds cheesy instead of funky. Damn … I think that sucked, but mainly because of the song-choice. A few more people go up, then I get called to the stage again. I’m thinking it’s my final choice of the night … Sweet Child O’ Mine … but no, IG has pulled a bit of a shifty on me and put me down to do “Ice Ice Baby”. OMG ! I can’t rap for shit !

I try to roll with it, with IG jumping up on stage to provide back-up dancing. Sweeet *g* I get in maybe one third of the words … ‘rollin in my 5.0 …. Ice Ice Baby’. It’s too fast for me … so I kinda suck again … but I feel strangely good about it all the same. After some more random singers and IG numbers, I finally get called up to do SCOM. My stagefright has almost entirely gone by this point, the leg is only trying to jiggle slightly, palms are dry and I’m not struggling to read the words … in fact I even sneak in a bit of improv on one of the ‘wo oh oh oh’s which noone notices but which gives me a warm inner glow.

The final verdict – yes, I still kinda sucked … but I did have a great time, and given regular practice I hope in due course my suckiness will reach a level where it is only barely perceptible. Guess what ? I’m planning to put that practice in … because now I’ve tried it, I think I shall be at least a semi-regular participant, and not just a spectator.

Proving once again gang, that it never hurts to try something new ! Have a great weekend, I’m off to Greenwood for a ‘boy’s night out’ with one of IG’s mates and some other lads. Let’s just hope there are no fights this time … this is the same guy who punched on with someone outside the Batemans Bay Soldiers Club on the first ‘Summer Bay’ post !

Peace out y’all …

OK … so I haven’t updated in ages. So what else is new ? It’s been fairly busy at work, and the other day my boss had a dummy spit about my “always” being online. Granted, I was surfing W1K looking for some new wallpaper for my desktop, but that was only because I was waiting for our dog-slow system to finish running one of my jobs. Regardless, posting to the blog during work hours has become somewhat problematic. Nonetheless, I’ll try my luck today, and hope the boss doesn’t come back early from his meeting !

So anyways, what have I been up to between updates , I hear you ask ?

Well first off, IG and I went to see a band called “Transit Ink” play a gig Friday last at some dodgey pub in Petersham. We got there at about 10:30, and the boys still hadn’t come on. So we saw the last half hour or so of the support act, whose name I didn’t catch. The support band played standard Indie-Rock, nothing very original – all in all, pretty lame. Got to meet some of my girlfriend’s cousins and old mates in the meantime – a bunch of guys from Liverpool who had stood her up on several previous occassions. Talk about testosterone city !

I was definitely the ‘slightest’ individual sitting at that table, with the exception of IG herself. Perhaps this was the reason one of the mates of mates seemed to take an instant disliking to me, and spent most of the night alternating between giving me daggers and staring intensely at my girlfriend from half a metre away – without talking to either of us all night ! I was also conscious of the fact there was a little bit of ‘history’ between her and one of the other dudes at the table, so it didn’t help my state of mind that that particular guy looked like he could have easily squeezed the life out of me with one hand and still have enough muscle power left over to lift a small ute with the other. Bloody Italian-Stallions … they’ll be the death of me, I swear Granted, he came across as a decent enough bloke, I hear he’s marrying a nice Italian girl, and HE wasn’t giving me daggers … but still, it’s a bit weird meeting one of your partners ex’s, especially when looking at them makes you feel a little inadequate ! Strictly my problem mind you – I know IG has no interest in this guy anymore.

Finally, at around 11 o’clock Transit Ink came on to the stage. Like Perregrine, these guys are old friends of Lisa’s, and in addittion the lead guitarist is the brother of a distant relative (gotta love those extended wog families !) – so she’s been to a fair few of their gigs. Apparently they’ve recently changed their sound – I have it on good authority they used to be a sort of Metallica/Van-Halen hybrid. If this is the case they’ve definitely done well at redefining their sound, because the songs we heard on Friday could best be described as ‘funk-influenced Indie-Rock’ … and they were pretty damned good ! Thus it was a bit of a shame that the pub management made them wind the set up after only 45 minutes at quarter to 12 ! Although on the plus side, it meant that once my girlfriend had made her various goodbyes, we could leave the testosterone zone and I could feel like a whole man again instead of a pipe-cleaner figurine. Not to mention, I didn’t have to feel death-stares aimed at the back of my head anymore

OK – that was the Transit Ink gig. Last Wednesday, we went to a pub in Surrey Hills to watch the State of Origin on the big screen. Free steak, cheap beer and a great night of watching the Blues thrash the Marones. It wasn’t a bad night at all, only slightly marred by me spilling some water on the patient IG when I accidentally knocked her glass over. I got a dose of instant-karma for that mind you, when I was sick as a dog later in the night from either (a) the greasy chips that came with my steak or (b) the steak itself. I’m not sure exactly what it was, but either way 1 a.m found me shaking with nausea and projectile vomiting in a handy laundry tub while my girlfriend slept undisturbed in the blissful cocoon of her own bedroom far away in Bondi.

More recently (i.e. the weekend just passed), IG and I went for a romantic trip down to the Hunter Valley. We left Sydney on Friday night, got to the Formula 1 Motel in Newcastle at about 9pm. Now my girlfriend had been putting shit on the Formula One for several weeks, due to the chains unfortunate reputation as a ‘shaggin motel’ in Sydney. A reputation, incidentally, of which I wasn’t aware until I met IG and she pointed it out to me – although since then, a number of other people have confirmed this is the reputation they associate with Formula 1 also. So I’m glad that upon arriving, the Newcastle Formula 1 proved to still be up to the excellent combination of affordability/cleanliness/non-tackiness that I’ve always associated with the chain, from staying at a few different ones in the course of various inter-state/inter-city travels. I think it was one of those very rare occasions where I’ve proved to be more right than my wonderful girlfriend. So I’m glad she was pleasantly surprised !

On Saturday morning we took off for Pokolbin, and spent the rest of the day driving from one winery to the next, admiring the picturesque wine-country views, sampling many delicious varieties of vino, and occasionally purchasing bottles to take back with us. Later we drove back to the motel, picked up some supplies at the well-stocked Wallsend Coles, and had a mini-feast of wine, cheese, crackers and cheese-twists in our motel room, along with some quality … erm … cuddling Not only was it wonderful to spend such a romantic day with my beautiful girlfriend, but it was also a bit of a nostalgia experience for me, having gone on a Hunter trip or two previously in my late teens with Mum & Dad.

Sunday morning found us cruising the streets of Newcastle for some action – or to be more accurate, for a shop that was actually open, for want of anything better to do ! Wearing a pair of bright-green ‘VB’ beanies we’d scored watching the Origin game on the Wednesday, we felt like proper ‘bogans’ – said fact confirmed when we spotted a number of local derros wearing the same beanie on our trip through town. We ducked in to a music / fashion shop called “Rock City”, which was suitably tacky, and also contained at least one other local in a VB beanie. We left after a bit of happy browsing, but not before the geriatric gentleman (sans beanie) hanging out at the front of the store had taken the opportunity to spend some time checking out my girlfriends norgs. Afterwards we went for a bit of a walk by the seaside, and checked out a surprisingly BIG cathedral at the appropriately named “Church Hill”. We followed this up with an exceedingly over-priced (and exceedinly sweet) Indian takeaway, and made our way back to Sydney.

Sunday night finished off with us crashing at my place for a bit, before I spent some time looking in the newspaper for jobs and my girlfriend watched hot lesbian action on tele courtesy of ‘Kissing Jesicca Stein’, then a version of the Cinderella fairytale starring Drew Barrymore. I was planning to make us some dinner, and we were going to settle down to watch BB, when my flat-mate arrived home and made it clear by her actions and her scowl that she was none-too-pleased to see us. Probably something to do with the fact she had her ex-boyfriend in tow again, and was probably counting on having her ‘wicked way’ with him (a mental image I don’t even want to contemplate, given neither of them is particularly ‘easy on the eye’). So IG and I made ourselves scarce and pissed off to her place instead, where we had some good (but rich) Indian takeaway and watched a bit of tele. Finally at around 11 I tucked my darling in to bed and bade her goodnight, and went home to crash.

All in all then – a weekend of pure gold !

Listening To: Wipeout 2027 Soundtrack : Various Artists

In the style of Boris from The Wogboy, I must admit dear fans – “I am so munted, fŨcking !” It’s Monday, five or so hours to go at work, and I must admit it’s one of those times I well and truly wish I had access to some nice methamphetamines. Y’see, I don’t really want to take speed for the same reason as other people i.e. to “party”. I want speed to enable me to do that which most people take for granted, namely to stay awake and alert, and fully functioning.

Oh, to be able to wake up in the morning, rub a little bit of goey on my gums and have enough energy to get through a full day without feeling like I’m going to collapse in my work cubicle at any moment from sheer weakness / sleepiness. I won’t do it of course … have been without chemicals far too many years to foolishly go back to them now. But it’s a lovely fantasy to get me through the day nonetheless …

Why am I so delirously tired today, I hear you ask ? Why do my kidneys hurt, my eyes burn, and my back ache like a troopful of boyscouts has tied multiple knots at the base of my spine ? Is it just the usual Monday-itis, or is it something more ? Let me give you a quick run-down of the damage from the last week …, and you can decide ….

Monday Night: The calm before the storm. Had a healthy night of drinking no alcohol, jogging, doing my weights, and eating ceasar salad. A good start to the week, right ?

Tuesday Night: Drinks @ St.Leonards Tavern & The Commodore. 4 or 5 schooners of foaming, golden, Carlton goodness, and about 3 Vodka’n'Cokes. Went to have a $5 meal at the Tav, had a beer and decided to come back out after dropping the car off home. Played some pool with the usual geezers, decided to have a drink or two at the Commodore (hence the vodkas later in the night) and possibly check out Greenwood, but ended up nixing on Greenwood and going home instead.

Wednesday Night: Trivia @ PJ O’Gallaghers. A pint + a schooner of heavy, followed by 3 or 4 V’n'Cs. A mid-week breather, although more than I usually imbibe at triv …

Thursday Night: Post-interview drinks @ CBD Hotel, then Establishment. 6 or 7 beers, no spirits. Had a job interview @ Merrivale group (FYI those bastards I met at CBD the other night lied to me kids … you CAN’T buy shares in Merrivale), and since I was in the city already in my second-sharpest suit, I thought I’d have a few bevvies @ some of the venues they own in honor of the occassion. Thank fŨck I didn’t run into my boss again at Establishment like I have been lately !

Thank fark2 that the North Shore blonde yuppie type (she probably works in PR or something equally edifying) who looked a bit like my old boss Kate and who kept trying to catch my eye across the other side of the bar didn’t come over and try talk to me ! I don’t usually get that (or at least notice … apparently according to other people I *do* on occasion get women ‘checking me out’ when we’re out, I’m just oblivious to it most of the time), although it seems to have been going on more of late … must be the whole fact I’m *not* single & *not* interested anymore, so suddenly the universe is throwing my way what I was seeking during my long dark winter of recent singledom.

It can get pretty damned annoying if they don’t get the hint “… oh … yeah I’m good. Missing my girlfriend who’s in Spain … how are you ?”, and I really wasn’t in the mood. Horny – for sure. But horny for my girlfriend, and not some frikkin PR layered-foil North Shore barbie ! So yes, thankgod Establishment has a biiig, wiiiide bar island in the middle which I was able to keep between myself and the Kate-clone !

Friday Night: Visiting friends at Collaroy, then out @ Neotokyo. Half a bottle of vodka, followed by two V’n'C’s @ Club 77. After having drinks with K, his wife and a friend of theirs from overseas at their place, I was missing IG and just wanted to go home. After getting home though I was compelled to check my mail (hadn’t been able to reach IG for a few days), and realised Neotokyo (which I’d wanted to check out) wasn’t on Saturday as I’d originally thought, but was on Friday instead.

So at almost 1 a.m I decided to head back out, into the city. Bad idea, coz Neotokyo was absolutely shit ! There’s a reason I don’t go to goth clubs much anymore – and half of that reason is because places like Neotokyo don’t even play stuff I’d classify as goth or more than very vaguely industrial ! If you’re going to play dance music, at least play something decent. This was just rubbish, and the DJ was an utter fŨcking tool, complete with the kind of ‘crowd inspiring’ hand signals you would see at a ‘Happy Hardcore’ rave circa ’98-99. In a word – tragic !

Saturday Night: Clubbing @ Slip-Inn. 5 or 6 Absinthe & Recharge, 6 or so shots of Schnapps. Got home on Saturday night after picking up my Evo from Intermusic, and I’d already decided I wanted to go to Slip-Inn. The trouble was, I was already seriously crashing. Stomach cramps & nausea, yawning like someone who’s pulled an all-nighter doing a uni essay, unable to even contemplate going across the road to KFC, let alone out clubbing.

Determined to have a good time though, and fearing tiredness, I’d arrived prepared … I’d picked up some Sprite Recharge (I fŨcking looooove that stuff … forget Red Bull, Recharge is the shit my brothers and sistas !) at the supermarket on my way home. With a system crash imminent, and given I usually have my absinthe with regular Sprite anyway, I decided to experiment. Let me tell you kids … you ever need a pick-me-up, try 70% Absinthe and Recharge ! Vodka & Red Bull …. pschaw, thats for soft-cocks ! Absinthe & Recharge … that on the other hand is akin to liquid speed !

Now seriously fired up after my drinks, and slightly bouncing off the walls, I got a cab into the city. Got into Slipp-Inn without a hitch. Laundry was open, Cave still closed at that point, seeing as it was before midnight, and Sandbar was playing crap as usual. So I got myself a shot in Laundry, danced down there for a while, went up to Sandbar. Got another shot, got pigeon-holed by the stairs by a Filipina chica who asked me if I had any cigarettes. Got into talking for a bit, then she asks me if I have a girlfriend. Uh-oh, here we go. “Yeah, she’s in Spain at the moment. Really missing her” (hint hint hint). The chica seems to get the hint too, thank fŨck ! Body language subtely changes, and in another few minutes she tells me to have a good night, and walks off to stalk for other victims. Phew !

Go downstairs again, more dancing in Laundry. Cave finally opens, so I go in there and right from the get-go the set is awesome. My adrenalin is pumping … I’m on a definite high ! After about an hour and a half of shaking my booty like a madman, stopping only a handful of times for air, I go out into the little passageway / under-stairs bit connecting Cave, Laundry & Sandbar for a quick breather. Sitting down on one of the benches near the wall, I’m having a res when this dark-haired chick sits down next to me. Mascara is on a bit too thick, she’s wearing a tight black t-shirt and a denim skirt, a studded dog collar and red three-stripe Addidas.

On the whole – “not too shabby lookin” I grudgingly think to myself. Naturally, we get to talking. Eventually, surprise, surprise … she asks me if I have a girlfriend. I drop the hint … yes, she’s in Spain. Except it doesn’t seem to work with this one … body language is still too friendly, and she actually slides up a bit closer to me on the bench. F*ck ! So when she asks me “say, do you want to head somewhere else ? I’m gettin a bit too tired to dance, but I’m up for a few more drinks. There’s a really funky little pub near my place …”, I’m almost expecting it. “Ummm …. no thanks … I’m having a good time here … and I really miss my girlfriend … so I wouldn’t want to do anything like that. But thanks, really.”

The next bit really floors me though. She’s says something along the lines of “Hey, dude … chill out … yeah I like you, and if you play your cards right I might just fŨck you. But I don’t need a puppy-dog, and tommorrows a whole new day, bubbaloo. So don’t worry about your girlfriend. Besides, what she don’t know can’t hurt her, right ?”. F*cking what ? Did I hear that right ? If I had a drink right now, I’d choke on it ! “Is that right ? You know what ? F*ck you ! Talk to the hand, bitch, coz I don’t like your attitude !” And with that, I’m up and outta there before this chick even has a chance to react ! I storm outside the club, and I’m actually shaking ! Angry … really angry … “fŨcking ho” I’m thinking to myself.

I go up the street a bit and sit in the driveway opposite Bristol Arms, shaking imperceptibly and trying to get myself together. See her coming out after a bit, looking round. She spots me and starts walking in my direction. Sheeeit ! So I get up as well and walk back towards the club. When I reach her she starts trying to talk at me “Hey dude … sorry … I didn’t mean …” but I tell her to “piss off” and keep walking and don’t look back. Get back inside the club, go into Cave again. Order a shot, down it, and hope the bitch hasn’t followed me ! Luckily I guess she didn’t … I danced some more, had another shot or two and eventually lost myself in the beat again, ending my night on a high despite all the earlier aggro. Got a taxi home eventually, and all but passed out on my bed.

Sunday Day/Night: Flatmates Birthday, Beer @ St.Leonards Tavern. 1 cup of Cherry Liquer & Coke, 2 Schooners of Amber Fault Detector. Feeling completely shit for most of day, barely able to keep food down, I drank softdrink throughout most of my flatmate’s birthday party except for a cup of the aforementioned Cherry Liquer that was all but forced on me. Pissed off from that about 6:30-ish to see what was showing at movies. Nothing interesting, so I went back to St.Leonards to grab a $5 meal at the pub. Had soft-drink with that as well, could only manage to eat half of it.

Then my mate Dave (who I’ve known since uni, lost touch with for a few years, then ran into one day at MY pub) comes over to my table … thought I wouldn’t see him again, as he’s just moved to Bathurst to do some building work down there for the next 2 years. Apparently though his house in Sydney was broken into, so he’s back here temporarily to sort that out. We chat for a bit, before he heads back over to play some pool with Jason, the drunken builder who used to come into the pub with his dad, but now comes in alone (although I’ve seen his old man in there on occassion too). So I get myself a beer and join them. Dave beats Jase (who is paralytic), and I beat Dave. Get myself another beer, then Jase proceeds to demolish me in a truly stunning display of pool for a man who is comprehensively maggotted. Cue exit, Disappearing Boy.

And that’s pretty much my week. Can you see now why I’m feeling a bit tired and in need of serious sleep, and possibly a new liver ? Gaaawd … I really need to have a bit of a quiet week this week !

Listening To: Magick : Def-Fx

So, I came into a bit of extra cash the other day. Thinking about what I was going to do with it, I decided it was time to do something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. It’s time to get serious about my music, and actually invest a bit of cash in it again after many a year. Yes kids, I’ve decided it’s high time I get a midi controller keyboard. No more fŨcking around, trying to control multiple parameters within Buzz using just the mouse and keyboard. No … I’ve decided its time DB gets his hands on something with assignable knobs !

< --- I'm talking about lovely knobs like these ...

Previously I’d been thinking about forking out for the M-Audio Oxygen 8 (pic below) … in fact, this was the piece of kit mentioned in the “2004 Good Riddance” post. I even had a quote from James @ Intermusic in Bondi on one of these babies.

However, doing some research on the ‘net and reading reviews from various people, I realised this probably isn’t the best controller you can get in its price-range. It’s decidely ‘plasticky’ for a start, and only features 8 assignable knobs and one assignable fader.

Instead, further research reading convinced me the Evolution MK425C looked to be a better bet than the Oxygen 8. Not only does it have 8 assignable knobs like the former, it also has 10 assignable buttons AND assignable mod + pitch wheels ! Whoo The more assignable controls you have, the more functions you can map inside Buzz (or any other softsynth/tracker/sequencer) basically …

It even has global kill-send for all parameters —>

OK, so having settled on the Evo, I gave James a call. “Have you got the Evolution MK425C in stock, dude ?” “Funny you should ask that. I’ve got one in I can do you a great deal on. Guy bought it last week. Got it to his motel room, threw the box out.” “Yeah …” “Yeah … and then he decided he wanted something else, didn’t he ? So it’s got all the software, all the cables, and the manual … it just doesn’t have a box ….” “Bwahahahaa !” You gotta love guys from Darwin who change their minds, don’t you ? The prices at Intermusic look to be pretty decent as is, but given there is no box with my unit (*s*) James is gonna knock the $$$ down even further to below the 250 mark … which definitely beats the rip-offski price they’re charging for the same controller at Venue ($265). Schweet !!! It’s even got a *real* midi-out, unlike most USB controllers, including the Oxygen 8.

What all of this means of course, friends and fans, is that I’m very excited about my weekend now ! Tonight I plan on going out and getting pissed with some of IG’s friends … who says she gets to do all the partying, just coz she’s in Spain ? But tommorrow, I’m picking up my new toy from Bondi ! Check it out below … doesn’t it look sexy ? Doesn’t it look sexier than the Oxygen ?

Of course, I’m not a 100% sure how much fiddling I’m going to have to do to get it to work properly with Buzz … I might even have to use the software that comes with it and a couple of VST-I’s in the short term … but in the words of M-People we’re “movin’ on up, moooovin on up” Expect a review / rundown on my Evo experience in the next week or so !

Listening To: 21st Century Jesus : The Messiah

I know it’s been floating around for a while now on various people’s blogs – most recently on Imaginery Girl’s site … but for want of anything better to do here’s my version of the ‘Music Quiz(llet)’ …

1. Total amount of music files on your computer ?

You know, I really did *try* to get into the whole downloading MP3′s thing about 8 years ago. But even though I was hitting all the underground Mac ‘Hotline’ servers (now who else remembers THAT network, huh ?) in Germany, I still couldn’t find the weird, Teutonic industrial tracks I was listening to at the time, just the frikkin Beach Boys & Celine Dion, mostly. Oh and David Hasslehoff of course !

Given that experience … I don’t really see the appeal of downloading MP3′s of other peoples stuff, unless these are unreleased / unsigned artists, like the peeps at BTGetOutThere or MP3.Com.AU. Generally, MP3′s are shite anyway … I don’t see the fuss, given they are usually compressed at far below CD-quality to get the filesize down. Give me Ogg Vorbis any day ! That being said, I’ve got about 30 tracks from GetOutThere & MP3.Com.AU of ‘unsigned’ dance/electronica artists burnt to a CD, but not on any of my PC’s. My work PC has no other music on it at all … I just play my CD’s through it.

Which computer d’ya mean, anyway ? Do you mean my work PC, my laptop, or my (home) desktop machine ? Define “music files” … does this mean MP3′s/WMA’s/WAV’s of other people’s commercial releases (even if these are illegal burns), or do we include work-files (completed song or otherwise) for tracks I’ve written ? Really, the scope of this question should have been worked out better ;P

The work PC I’ve already discussed. The laptop and desktop at home have, between them, a few hundred MB worth of samples and parts of tracks in .WAV format for manipulating, and combined with 13 years worth of backup CD’s and cover discs, I’ve probably got a few gig of samples all up. Then there’s another 30 or 40 old-school 90′s techno Protracker (.MOD) & Screamtracker (.S3M) modules from Alternate Reality BBS by a bunch of demo-sceners I used to know back in the day, twenty or so Fasttracker2 .XM format tracks (although FT2 hasn’t worked on any of my PC’s for years, I tend to use Modplug) in various stages of completion, the Rebirth .RBS patterns for a track I’ve since lost the .XM workfile for, and a handful of Buzz format .BMW files, which is what I sequence with these days. Finally on top of that, there are backup Nero .NRI compilations for several versions of my first (shitty) EP, and the new one I keep pushing the release-date back for.

2. The CD you last bought is ?

‘Nobody Ever Really Dies’ by N.E.R.D, which I bought at JB-Hifi in Bondi Junction Westfields. I think the JB’s in Parramatta is better in terms of its size and the available selection … but IG and I ducked in to the one in BJ and they were on sale, so of course I had to buy *something*, didn’t I ? On the same outing I also bought a copy of RATM’s first album, since I didn’t have this on CD and had lost the tape years ago.

3. What is the song you last listened to before reading this message ?

‘Ra’ by Shy FX, off the ‘Drum And Bass Arena’ compilation by Fabio & Grooverider. Also a JB-Hifi purchase, but I got this one @ Parramatta. This is a pretty sweeet DNB compilation, although I must admit was really hanging out for a Busta Rhymes album, but they didn’t have any at JB at the time.

4. Name 6 songs that mean something to you?

That’s no fair … only 6 ?! I could probably name at least 60 songs that have a strong meaning for me in some way ! But OK, in no particular order of preference, here are the first 6 which spring to mind -

(1) It’s No Good – Depeche Mode

Probably my fave DM song. All ego, fantastic bassline, eminently danceable …

(2) Dominion/Mother Russia – The Sisters of Mercy

Quintessential gothness, exemplified by the dulcet tones of that f*cking twat Andrew Eldritch. Along with Temple of Love, this was on of my favourite club tracks throughout most of the 90′s.

(3) Just Like Heaven – The Cure

The ultimate combination of bitter-sweet, I keep changing my mind … do I prefer the studio version on ‘Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me’, or the extended live version on ‘Cure Show’ ? I dunno … either way, I looooove this song !

(4) Karma – 1200 Techniques

I’ve already talked about this track elsewhere. Summed up 2004 for me.

(5) Risingson – Massive Attack

The entire album, Mezzanine, which this track is off is fantastic. But this is pure, electronic, minimalist heaven !

(6) Brother Slimboy Chemical – Yours truly

A Rebirth/Modplug .XM-hybrid track, this was the first song I wrote that actually lasted the ‘standard’ 3 minutes, and got me back into sequencing after a few years of doing nothing but the occasional remix for nightclub DJ demos.

5. Who are you going to pass this stick on to, and why ?

No-one … it’s been done to death !

Listening To: Binary Religion : A Cat Called Monty

So, last Friday I went and did something I haven’t done for a fair while – went to see a live band (Peregrine) with IG @ The Empire in Annandale. FYI Mark – sorry, I thought this was the Annandale Hotel going under a wankier name, but it was actually a different venue, so I hope you and your tan courderoy pants had a good night anyway !

Now, speaking of the venue I must confess I thought this place was a bit ‘divey’. Not as bad as the Century Tavern on George St. of course, but certainly not as nice as The Annandale itself. They didn’t even have Carlton on tap, so I had to settle for a few schooners of Becks. At least they had real schooners and not schmidis !

Ann Vraynd, the opening act was ‘interesting’ in a Canadian “I’m trying to be Isabella Rossellini in Blue Velvet” lounge-singer-kinda way, although she didn’t quiet make it (Ms.Rossellini is attractive … Ann Vraynd, alas, is not). Peregrine on the other hand did indeed wrooock, leading me to fruitless ponderings of the “what is my girlfriend doing with a talentless bum like me, when her friends have been on Triple J” variety.

Yes … I conveniently forgot to mention earlier that the lads from Peregrine all know IG from their Glebe ‘Sydney Acoustic Movement’ days. Like me when I was living in Melbourne, I guess IG went through an intensely creative phase a few years back when she was living in Glebe. Unlike me however, she made a bunch of friends sharing a similar head-space, and has managed to keep in touch with them.

I on the other hand, managed to make about 4 mates while living in Melbourne for 2 years outside my ex-girlfriend’s small circle, and I’m not in contact with any of them anymore. Seems like IG’s friends are all talented and successful in their creative endeavours too … while out of my Melbourne friends, only Dan was a successful short-film producer/writer. Damn ! So anyway, into this slightly insecure head-space walks a man called Andy …

Now as I’ve already said, the venue was a bit divey, but the music was good. I guess the regular punters and die-hard Peregrine fans knew to expect this, so the place was pretty packed when we arrived and continued to fill up as the imminent appearance of the crowd’s heroes got closer. IG and I managed to score ourselves a couple of stools near the stage, and this was updraded to a whole table after the unfriendly lads who’d scowled at us taking the stools in the first place left. We’re sitting there having beer, listening to the tail-end of Ann Vraynd’s Canadian stylings, when this dude wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt (?) comes up and asks us if the stool next to me is free.

He’s in his late twenties or early thirties, short brown hair, ordinary looking, and strikes me on first impression as a bit ‘camp’. He seems pretty harmless, so I reply “yeah sure”, and he sits down next to me. He introduces himself as Andy, and over the next 90 minutes or so in between watching Peregrine perform, and scabbing multiple cigarettes from people, he proceeds to build in me the conviction he’s a bit of a wanker. He shares his theories on music and the song-writing process, lets us know he plays guitar, regals us with tales of travels I can only vaguely remember now, and generally comes across as someone who, for whatever reason, is desperately trying to impress me and IG.

Herein boys and girls, lies the danger in two attractive people becoming romantically involved. If you’ve already read IG’s account of the night, you’d know she was convinced the reason Andy was being so ‘pally’ with us was that he was trying to hit on yours truly. Granted, I thought he was a bit camp, he did sit awfully close to me, and brushed his leg up against mine a few times ‘accidentally-maybe-on-purpose’.

However, Andy also told us point blank at one point “I’m straight” (in response to IG’s queries about his apparently misogynistic comments on female musos), and spent the majority of the time talking to my girlfriend, only occasionally glancing my way in what seemed to me to be a “I’ll include him in the conversation for politeness’ sake, but I’m only really interested in her” gesture. So ja, my take on events was that Andy was being ‘pally’ with us on order to hit on IG, and not on your humble narrator !

Towards the end of the night, after Peregrine had finished their set, I stumbled off outside to find a convenient alley in which to drain the lizard – the loos at the Empire being rudimentary, and full of drunken indie-yoof. I remember thinking “ok, this is the point at which Andy is gonna make his big move on my girlfriend … I hope it doesn’t take me too long to find a good pissing spot !”

Alas, it took me bloody ages to wander up the street and back again in my somewhat-drunken state, and although at one point someone’s car-port looked promising, I walked a bit too far in during the process of unzipping my fly and set off their motion-activated light, tragically ruling this out as a strategic pissing location. My quest to find a good pissing-spot fruitless, I headed back to the Empire, only to run into my girlfriend coming out the front door, mobile in hand. Quick glace at my mobile confirms two missed calls from IG.

“God honey, where weeeere you ?” she asks me, appearing a bit distressed. Oh man, Andy really MUST have made a move ! “Umm, just looking for somewhere to pee, coz the loos were full … sorry baby” I reply lamely. “I thought you’d gone off with Andy …” she starts. What the ? “Que ? With Andy ???” I’m confused now. It transpires that Andy got up and followed me out of the pub about 30 seconds after I barged out the front door, although I don’t remember any foot-steps behind me, leaving IG to the tender mercies of a couple of punk-kids who pounced on the vacant stools like they’d been eyeing them all night.

So essentially, our night at the Empire concluded with my girlfriend busy worrying about Andy making his big “move” on me outside, while I was outside worrying about Andy making his big “move” on her in the pub. Although he had ostensibly followed me outside, it appears Andy evaporated into thin-air because neither IG nor I had seen him since he’d stepped out, and he didn’t re-materialise as we stood there on the Empire’s doorstep, working all this out and exchanging mutual apologies and commisserations.

Finally, IG asks me “should we go ?”, to which I reply in the affirmative, and we walk off in the direction of Parramatta Road hand-in-hand to hail a cab. We pass a couple of dodgey wog-boys parked by the kerb in their beat-up Ford Laser, and they ask us where we’re going. They offer us a lift when we tell them, which we decline, after which they offer us a lift again only it’s “well, we’ll take the girl, but you’ll have to stay behind homeboy”. We decline again and keep walking, finally managing to flag down a cab. We get in, and as I sit back and let my tired head fall back against the seat, I wonder just what the hell Andy’s story was. The wog-boys while tragic, at least make sense to me. Andy on the other hand … well I just don’t know !

Anyone got any clues for IG and me, dear readers ?

(Above graphic lifted from B3ta)

Listening To: Boss Drum : The Shamen

OK so apart from the first date, I haven’t really been documenting my burgeoning relationship with a certain someone via this blog. I didn’t write about the second date (the Dante Hicks dinner-and-movie special), nor the third (drinks at Slip Inn), I’m NOT going to reveal exactly at which point things shifted gear into the bedroom (I don’t kiss ‘n tell … sorry y’all) and I’m not even going to clarify the chronology of when the status of things changed from ‘going on a few dates’ to ‘going steady’ (for our American friends).

I am going to share a bit of last Saturday night with you however, because it reveals as much about me as it does about the state of things between me and the wonderful woman I’ve been lucky (choosy ?) enough to hook up with.

Now different people have different ‘priorities’ or values they guage a relationship and their (new) partner by. And of course for all of us, there are things which can make or break a relationship. Things which can make us look at someone in an entirely new way – anything from being completely repulsed by our partner borrowing our toothbrush, to falling completely head-over-heels for someone when you find their moral compass is as quirky as your own

Keeping this is mind then, I have to admit last weekend revealeth Disappearing Boy to be a total disco-bitch … the raver gravy kind ;P

Y’see gang, on Saturday night Imaginary Girl & yours truly went out for a night on the town with some of IG’s good friends. DB wanted to stay @ Slip Inn where we started the night, but the rest of them didn’t want to pay a cover charge so it was decided to head to Cockle Bay instead.

We ended up at Bungalow 8, where funnily enough DB ran into his boss. But that’s a whole different level of creepiness we’ll cover some other time. The point of this tale, which I’m slowly getting to, is that prior to Saturday I’d never seen IG dancing, nor had she seen me. Up that point we hadn’t really been out ‘clubbing’ together, just drinking.

Now for any of you who don’t know this interesting factoid yet, DB luuurves to shake his booty after a drink or 3 ! In a recent poll (conducted by my dad one when he was here), my answers to the question “what do you like to do with your spare time ?” were “Drinking, writing music, catching up with friends, and clubbing !”. That’s pretty much it ladies and gentlemen, apart from blogging / writing … but I don’t think my dad would understand blogging so I didn’t mention it at the time.

So yeah … I’ve done a shedload of clubbing (and dancing) since I first started going out when I was 16 or so. In all that time (over a decade), and even through all prior relationship entanglements, I’d never found someone I could really get ‘in synch’ with on the dancefloor. At least not anyone I’ve dated / bedded / gotten freaky with.

There was one friend from the ‘old-school’ goth days … a PVC-wearing, speed-snorting, KMFDM-loving, industrial grrrl, whom I made quiet a ‘pair’ with when we both happened to be at Rollercoaster or Shrine … but a dance-floor pair is all we ever were and I half suspect she O.D’d a few years back when my ex-girlfriend broke up things which were finally ‘developing’ between us and then proceeded to steal this chick’s next boyfriend as well ! Either way, I haven’t seen Azrael at any of the clubs for about 5 years now, so it’s safe to say we won’t be “cuttin a rug” again.

The point is, I’d pretty much resigned myself to the fact that, no matter how ‘in sync’ we might be in other ways, it was unlikely, nigh on impossible, that I’d end up with anyone whom I’d ‘sync’ with on the dancefloor, certainly not instantly or without a lot conscious effort and modification of dance ‘moves’. Even when out with my most recent ex, who’s a pretty damn good dancer (must be those stripper moves hehe), we found styles still clashed. True – it looked pretty good to the casual observer (as I think you can agree from that time we all went to Retro Ms.Mellipop), but even there I had to ‘work’ to keep the flow and as good as it might have looked, it *felt* awkward. Can you see where this is heading yet, kids ?

Now as I said, on Saturday IG and I went out with her mates. Started at Slip Inn, wound up at Bungalow. For the majority of the evening, we just drank and chatted as usual … me itching to go out on the dancefloor, but not so ‘into’ the stuff the DJ was playing that I’d get up and leave the rest of the group for some booty-shaking-gratification. At some point in the wee hours of the morning, IG and her mate’s wife decided THEY were gonna have a bit of dance because they heard a track they liked come on. I was still drinking my beer and trying to ‘bond’ with my girl’s school-friend (gotta make those ‘good impressions’ gang !), so I declined to join them. They came back after a little while, and we had another round of frosty beveridges.

Then comes ‘the moment’. I finish my beer, and over the conversation floats a bass-beat I vaguely recognise. Tonight they’ve got a live drummer on the corner of the dancefloor playing in tandem with the tracks the DJ is cutting, and he starts going off at this point. I glance over and catch IG’s eye – “Do you wanna dance, baby ?” I ask her. “Yeah, why not ?” she replies, and we head out into the sea of sweaty bodies. Can you see where this is heading NOW, guys ? hehe

To cut a long story short, it takes me all of two seconds to figure out Imaginary Girl is a really fantastic dancer ! That’s not what makes this girl and this moment so special though. What makes this moment so special, and what makes DB the little disco-bitch go “aahhh” and break out in an uncontrollable smile he just can’t suppress, is the way her body moves – totally in sync with mine !!!

“Ok, but can we keep this up for more than a few beats ?” I think to myself as I finally remember to ‘put on’ my usual dancing expression and look into my girlfriend’s eyes. That’s when I notice she’s got on the same little dancing pout that I have ! I break out into another huge grin … I must look like I’m on E big-time, but it’s just alcohol and an over-riding sense of … I dunno … Kinship ? Release ?

The beat keeps pumping, we keep dancing … the rhythm is flowing and we’re still in sync ! I fake left and she goes with it, she fakes right and I find myself moving in time with her, without even having to try ! Granted, our ‘styles’ are pretty dissimilar to eachother … but somehow it just works baby, I’m on auto-pilot without having to think about anything except how good this feels, and grinning like a maniac in between trying to pout … which probably makes me look mentally unbalanced !

At the end of it all, I think we only danced to 2 tracks or so … maybe 5 or 10 minutes total … which is bugger all for someone like me who can dance for 5 or 6 hours solid without chemicals (no wonder people are always asking me if I have any speed when I’m out clubbing) to the right music. But it’s all about quality, not quantity as they say ! As I said at the start of this post, different people value different things in their partners. I didn’t even realise how important being ‘in sync’ with someone on the dancefloor was … until last weekend. But now that I’ve finally found it … everything to follow flows from that little moment ! Hats off IG – I think I’ve found a keeper – me love you long time