Thursday, January 9, 2014


Kinda makes the dicks with "Check out mah guns" tshirts look like real lamos.
Looks a bit manipulated, dunnit?
Still, awesome idea...

Now that I have your attention...

Unlike the last few days, the sun has made a very welcome appearance here in the Mother City. You are probably well aware of the fact, but since I am just as much a part of the internet experience as the next wanker who thinks his opinion is worth something, I thought it was mandatory to inform you anyway.

As I am sure you have worked out for yourself by now - without having to resort to mouthing out the words as you count on your fingers - this has fuck all to do with anything. I am back in the office and bored titless. When is the Australian tour starting, now again?

As you all know, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Then some more good intentions are littered on top of the paving. Even the signs try hard to please. Alas, it seems I am sealing my one way ticket to Lakus Sulphurus. The laundry list of things 'to do' in my home grows by the day. I am sure a lot of you are in the same boat. I remember working before the internet and social media became an all-consuming beast. I remember getting home and not feeling compelled to forsake everything in favour of a cold beer and finding out what Walter White's next misbegotten adventure would be. I've got a new idea. If I don't commit to something I can't be disappointed with myself for not doing it. I'm my dad and me wrapped into one neat little unit. I don't know HOW the parents among you do it. Or those of you with tidy houses. My home is like a favourite pair of jeans. Lived in. I use "entertaining" as an excuse to clean.

Like tonight. Tonight I'm having the lads from the band over to review live footage recorded in December at that greatest of all auspicious occasions. If you weren't there then that would explain why you don't know what I'm on about. And to plan our all-out assault on your senses and sensitive sensibilities for the foreseeable future. Ah, good times.

As one excuse crops up for a positive action, so it provides for the opposite as well. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Since the lads are coming over and I have to clean, I am forced to postpone my re-admittance to the select group of atheists about whom it is written "Only the Godless run when nothing is chasing them." Although vanity and narcissism are making me do it. One is even a deadly sin. Ask anyone.

I'll tell you a secret. It's not laziness that deprives my floors of a good regular vacuuming. It's my neighbour's kid. He vacuums his new car twice a week. For hours on end. The carpet is probably so worn it shines like a diamond in the sky. (If you knew him, you'd get that.) And without fail one of those times is a Sunday morning, when I am attempting to sleep in. The sound itself is enough to make a monkey bite its mother, but added to that particular injurious inconvenience is the insult of reminding me of my old man who used the lawn mower and the vacuum cleaner to make an early morning point when I'd be passed out drunk in my Docs on a weekend morning. We laugh about it now...

Anyway, next week it'll be back to more familiar territory as we get settled into the New Year and contemplate the many facets of news, boobs and maybe even the odd discussion on oral pleasure.

NGDG: Australia is home to hundreds of things that could kill you, including fires, snakes, spiders and accents.

Spread The Love. And Squeeeeze. And Release. And Squeeeeeze. And Release.

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