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yay for new picture! [11 Feb 2005|11:34am]
I love my new picture. It's the keyboardist from the shins' feet. Off the tripl J site, from the monday night show.
I can't believe it will nearly have been a week wince I saw the shins on sunday night though. Time is going wayyyyyyyyy too quickly.
The fath leaves for sydney tomorrow, and then goes to vietnam on wednesday for 4 months. Just bring me back pretty slip-on shoes!

I'ma getting a bit restless here. Have been living with leesh for a week, and it's been really good, but I've been stuck in the house, literally, for a few days. It'll be good once I get the car I guess.
I do want to just go back to uni and have some order in my life. EVEN though I'm doing some weird computer class that will be horrible :(
Ad there'll just be all those sucky pretty girls that DO well and annoy me. However I don't think I will care as much this semester. first year heth compared to 3rd year heth is pretty different. I just dont care as much now.
Which I think is good. My plan for the semester is to enjoy myself, see as mannnyy gigs I can, and visit me 'ol mum for tea. AND.. get something out of uni :P

Annnnd... get a damn flatmate in. I like this girl, aleesha's not too sure on her, but WHO has been doing all the interviews? And who's BLOODY sick of doing them?
I think I might have to make a management decision here.
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Might see Closer tonight. [29 Jan 2005|04:51pm]
Big Day Out was a laid-back subtle success.
Glad to be home though, if only to lol about in bed and listen to Pavement.
The only good thing about Star City Casino was that kool alienated feeling you get with those huge hotels, lost in translation style.
Dad is leaving for Vietnam in less than 2 weeks. Then comes the part where I control the house with the smell of frozen pizza. Or not so frozen, once I cook it. I'm moving all my records in soon. I was thinking of displaying them in alphabetical order.
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story stuff [20 Jan 2005|09:30pm]
Hmm, what could I do with this.

Larks had the ability to look languid and busy simultaneously.
“I’m going to clean the negatives. If Spicks comes back, just tell him that’s where I am. My back’s still all cracked ‘an all. I can’t really bend.”

All afternoon Wilbur had been searching for a pencil sharpener. In between listening to Lark’s rambling about his damn back, Wilbur had nearly completed his flipbook. It was about a sadistic boy who squeezes his dog too hard. Wilbur loved drawing gruesome things.
“I call the flipbook Pet Squeezer. Do you think the squelchy eyeballs look realistic?” Wilbur stuck out his tongue as he tried to make the blood ooze from the german shepherd’s awkwardly drawn eyes.
“You’re a real sicko Wilbur. You know Spicks already thinks you’re a real time-waster, with your rubbish drawings. You’ll be outa here before you know it.”

Wilbur tapped his fingers on the counter idly. The way Larks said sicko agitated him. It was like he just discovered what the word meant and Wilbur was the only person in the world that met the description.

When he first started at Spicks Photos he had a good deal. His shifts were always with James, Reg Spick’s son. James was a heavy pot-smoker who hated his blue-collar dad as much as Henry did. They used to lounge around in the afternoon shifts, talk about David Lynch films, and take turns smoking in the supplies cupboard.
James was a tall, awkward looking guy who pursed his lips whenever anybody told him to have a nice day. He was resigned to the fact his clinical depression meant he would fail in all aspects of his life.
Wilbur liked that. It gave him an air of desperation and drama about him. There was always something James was holding back from Wilbur, and he liked that a lot.

Wilbur loved that James was eternally interested in him. James asked him about his drawings, his past girlfriends, and his often absent family, always holidaying in Europe. Wilbur didn’t talk extensively about the latter.
But he was an undeniably selfish kid, and lapped up the attention he got for those five months until James disappeared. Some said to a mysterious rehab facility.
Wilbur hated the thought of anyone knowing what he thought about the universe. He had the idea that the longer he kept a thought inside him, the more it would develop.

“You really need a root, Preston.” Larks sneered with his yellow teeth at Wilbur, who was now colouring in the pus on his cartoon boy’s dog bite wounds. Larks always called Wilbur by his last name. He got the impression Larks wasn’t very good at emotional connections.

Just then, the one girl who Wilbur found curious entered the shop.
Marietta. A low whistle sounded from Larks. Henry groaned internally. Why today? When he was working with Larks, the fucking shit-stirrer.
“We got your photos printed out real nice, Mary!”
She stood there looking brazen at him, and hating him for calling her Mary. Wilbur knew this because three years ago at a house party, Nate Richardson did the same thing to her while reaching out to grope her right breast. Marietta slapped him across the face and told his girlfriend he’d been on the go with at least four different girls. Italian blood, is what everyone taunted her with. Wilbur just knew she hated dimwits.

“That picture of you and your boyfriend groping you in the Kingswood is bloody vicious!” Larks kept stirring her.
Wilbur didn’t like the way Larks had curled his tongue around the word boyfriend. And the way he gave a sideways glance to Wilbur, grinning. He never stopped grinning.

“That’s 10 bucks”.

Marietta eyed Wilbur. “I have a voucher”.
“Okay”. Wilbur avoided looking at her for as long as possible until he gave her the change and her photos. It was only then that he noticed a small scratch on her forehead. Something stirred inside him. He paused on it for too long.

“I walked past a mower. Got hit.”

Wilbur heard footsteps behind him as he stalked down the alleyway from work into the sudden bliss of fresh air and cold space.
He knew Marietta was following him.
He loved that moment he left work that meant he had the longest amount of time before his next shift. He savoured that moment, and took a drag on his cigarette.
The footsteps became closer.
He thought about his sadistic cartoon boy. He mulled over the option of turning him into a werewolf, after being bitten by the seemingly innocent german shepherd. He wondered whether he could draw whiskers and claws very well.
He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Wil. Stop dreaming for a second. We need to talk”.
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grouphug.. my vice on a broing monday. [10 Jan 2005|01:37pm]
[ mood | listless ]

In third grade, I cheated on my history exam.
In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max's toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play.
In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog.
When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out.
But the worst thing I ever done -- I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa -- and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.

haha. I need another hobbie. One that involves getting off my arse.

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sunday [09 Jan 2005|11:10am]
[ mood | cold ]

Sunday mornin' at dad's. Bored. They are cleaning up and making me be a part of it. Everything's getting chucked - old papers, sofa inserts, un-used everythings. The study has been turned into a third bedroom, thus the computer has been moved out into the front area of the house, forcing me to have an emergency pop-up window whenever one of the adults walk past. God forbid they see the msn conversation between me and sarah surrounding the topic of napoleon dynamite or our upcoming sydney trip.

Well, hell..I guess I should be lucky I'm not at work :P
Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events was delightful last night, although I'll be glad if I never have to type out that title again.

Oh, god, I can't wait for a holiday.. in Sydney.. among the gambling glow-lights of star city. Of course I'll be in my room reading, or jumping on the bed, or getting dizzy from standing out on the verandah too long. Or going to dendy cinemas.
Chemical Bruvvas.

This is what they played in October 04 in Brazil:

Intro: Junior Parker "Tomorrow Never Knows" loop
1 - "Hey Boy Hey Girl"
2 - "Get Yourself High"
3 - "Music: Response"
4 - "Block Rockin´Beats"
5 - "Leave Home / Song To The Siren / Chemical Beats"
6 - "Come Inside"
7 - "Under The Influence / Three Little Birdies Down Beats"
8 - "It Doesn't Matter"
9 - "Out of Control"

10 - "Temptation/Star Guitar"
11 - New Track
12 - "Hoops"
13 - "Acid Children"
14 - "Setting Sun"
15 - "The Golden Path"
16 - "Elektrobank"
17 - New Song
18 - "Got Glint?"
17 - "The Private Psychedelic Reel"

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"Well I've written a hit play, what have you done lately?" - Max Fischer [04 Jan 2005|12:41pm]
(WHY can't I stop saying that??)

I love thee rushmore quote in my title (oh, thanks heth *compliments self). I have renewed love for it as I watched it again on new years day at my house with a bunch of dirty ecstacy taking friends. WASH YOUR MOUTHS OUT, AJAX LUVVAS!

Oh, kidding. Anyway, I love how max writes this play, and he's so proud of it. Everyone else's accomplishments don't even register because HE wrote a HIT PLAY. OK?

What can I write about.. I mean, in general.
I wish my bonnie prince billy review got published. :(

But now I need...Fiction stuff. I have to think of something to write. What do writer's write about? I feel like writing lately - I'm in that goddamn mood, I just need to think of something. Maybe I should think of some characters. Then I'd need stuff to happen to them. They'd have to go through pain and conflict and happiness. They'd need morals and ethics and enemies and favourate films and physical attributes.
All this would have to fit into some sort of context. They would have to live in a town with a particular climate. Or maybe they'd be isolate, in the woods. Really big woods, tall trees, it snows alot, wooden cottages, hansel and gretel feel. Everyone gets sick one by one and there's MONSTER on the loose.
See.. I couldn't write about that. I've never lived in a hansel and gretel town and I've never had first-hand experience with a damn monster. And Newcastle isn't particularly that creepy. Where as Stephen King did live in a creepy place, didn't he? I don't know. I only read the first couple of pages of "It" at my Nan's house once. I don't know why Nan owns It. She's the churchie.
Those guys that wrote the script to Shaun of the Dead - it was successful because they already had first-hand experience of awful dead british suburbia and how everyone IS a zombie. And then, because they've got those real-life observations down they can afford to chuck in some b-grade gory zombie stuff. Those two aspects of the film compliment each other.
All they had to do was watch a bunch of gory movies, which of course they'd already done because they're nerdy film-guys, and then write in the first-hand experience. Chuck in the guy from black books, Dawn from the office, and you've got a hit movie.
It practically wrote itself. *practically*.

I think I have more respect for film directors because they have to think of so much STUFF, like the script *and* the visuals, how they're going to do it. Well the really good ones write the script too, I mean I think that's the best way because then you really know the film.
With writing, well anyone can do it. Anyone could write a hit play. Most people can write. I feel like in primary school I just wrote about anything, because why not? What the fuck did I have to lose? If it was shit, who gave a fuck? Only the teacher was going to see it, and she was going to put a gold star and a "BRILLIANT!" comment on it anyway. They all do that in year 1. They're not exactly going to shatter your dreams with a "the narrative was weak, too much use of rainbow metaphors" commment.
So we're brought up to be able to write anything, assuming we want to write in the first place. And then what happens - sometime, in our teens, something happens. Self-esteem gradually drops. Most of the pieces are depressing and abstract bullshit. The two opposite thoughts that coincide in our brains are that we've seen it all, or at least somebody else has and they've already written about it, but even if we really wanted to write about something.. to bring the issue to the surface in a particular way.. it's all too hard to express.

That's me, anyway.
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[26 Dec 2004|12:41am]
I just got home from sarah's where I watched Love, Actually.

I am now half watching Almost Famous which I nearly can't stand because I'm so in love with patrick fugit.

Ben Kweller is also hosting rage. His wife must think "I have the most cutest husband in the whole world".
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[22 Dec 2004|01:26pm]
I bought a red and green stool from ikea that I just sit on when I'm bored and congratulate myself I have furnature for when I move out.

Two stools and a waffle maker. One day I'll bee a reel uni student stereo-type.
Oh, I got a D and two C's for my uni results! Caloo--calay.
That will make christmas with nosy relatives a little less painful. "Yeah, I got a D in media ethics, but I think it was only because our lecturer's corrupt and on the booze 24/7". He has a beard too. Stick to sideburns.

Anyway..Non-nosy relatives.. is there such a thing that exists? I mean, you see these family people about once a year and they want to catch up on your fucking LIFE. What to omit? What to reveal?
And you don't really LOVE these guys - the old uncle, the grandma's sister's second husband. In fact you could probably talk in length about your spiteful ex more than that time your hung out with your second cousins and got attacked by christmas beetles. (they do attack, ok. I'm not mad).
It's not a heart-wrenching love - you love that person you made sex eyes with the other night more than these people. And these people give you book gift vouchers! Soap! Underwear! Boardgames!
It's a polite love. I happily induldge in it.
You know, almost every year I get the Big Day Out cd. I usually like about 4 tracks on it. Then there's the bath-bombs (safer than you'd think), chocolate that crackles in your mouth, shirts too small for you.

And you know what I think is insane - after this physically and emotionally exhausting few days (because your either cramped up in a house being force-fed venison or whatever meat is "in" at the time, or being grilled by someone about various parts of your life) there's this transitional night.

And something always happens on NYE.

It's usually a shit night. If your best friend is having a house party, the next morning you're made to scrape the candle-wax off the outside table and sweep up the corn-chips and beer spills. Or if you're at a huge festival, of course you lose both your friends *and* the person you hooked up with, leaving you with some awful highschool drop-out that mumbles m.a.s.h story-lines in your ear, and it's awful, and what if the rest of your year is like this?

So anyway, I'm going to try and bridge the gap between these two days. Snort coke over christmas lunch, and give underwear out to my friends on NYE.
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Lists [29 Nov 2004|11:38am]
Oh god, i just had this urge to go back to year 12 english with mrs gledhill and write pages of notes on Primary Colours and the significance of red white and blue in the film.

List I'm making for the summer holidays

This week I want to
see garden state and bad santa (and I wish I heart Huckabys was out in newcastle)
clean room
alter old shirts
read books
eat watermelon


the graduate
say anything
the ice storm
things you can tell just by looking at her
Man on the Train (L'Homme du Train)
the big lebowski
Roger Dodger
swimming pool

78 saab
joanna newsome
mercury rev
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Haha, I like [22 Nov 2004|12:54pm]
Get to know the REAL you by crash_and_burn
Your Name
You Are A:Nerd
Your Favorite Band/SongBarenaked Ladies - One Week
You Like To Read:Religious literature
You Firmly Believe In:Orange juice
Everyone Thinks You Are:You don't have any friends
You Were Conceived:On accident
You Will Marry:A nudist
Quiz created with MemeGen!
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King of Carrot Flowers [04 Nov 2004|11:44am]
It's fecking hot today. I tried painting but that didnt work.
So I took some pictures of this really fucking big dirty air conditioner we're trying to install in the art studio.
You can't see from this, but inside theres all thes wires and cylinders and stuff. I wish I had a better camera so I could get there fuck in there.
I might need to borrow yours again smith. Dick Smith just aint doin it for me.

It's dead air.
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When I think I've gone crazy.. [26 Oct 2004|09:13pm]
At least I know my friends can be WEIRDER than me. Makes me feel strangely at ease in this mild stressful week of mine.

saeah. says:
giggleh stuporr
giggleh stupor. says:
giggleh stupor. says:
wooo ----------------------------> hot man!
giggleh stupor. says:
hot stuff woooo
giggleh stupor. says:
heth you are hot stuff
giggleh stupor. says:
sugar muma
giggleh stupor. says:
your like red chilli
giggleh stupor. says:
little hottie you
giggleh stupor. says:
heth is a hot
giggleh stupor. says:
hethie the hottie
giggleh stupor.hethie the hottie. says:
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Dose waz de old Dayz [25 Oct 2004|05:00pm]
4 comments|post comment

Timely Update [23 Oct 2004|10:29am]

I'm feelin' lonely
I'm feelin' shaky
I'm feelin' mad
I'm feelin' sad

I feel free

I'm feelin speedy
I'm feelin' slow
I'm feelin' seedy
I'm feelin' greedy

I'm feelin' happy

Not working on a saturday is the best.

Last night I had pasta with my girls, and then we had good intentions for coffee but instead ran into random gay guy on hash cookies. Got home at a nice hour. Read a book from the 1950's about a lad trying to pull a bird, and fell asleep.

I'm quite content today. Most of my troubles lately have been concerned with being bored out of my fucking brain from uni.
But not long till that's over, then fucking Pretty Girls Make Graves, The Unicorns (if someone will come - fuck it, I'll go by myself if you don't sarah!) and much more.
And The Cops playing at the northern star! That's lovely. Crazy little diverse venue that place is.

Yeah, bring on summer, and bring on part-aying baby. Let's get fucked!
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Life update [19 Oct 2004|06:42pm]

haich says:
i am rarely content or happy
haich says:
and i get angry at people who can be so easily content and happy
sarah.30 seconds is over says:
i'm glad your not simple

\mitchell james/ - go saddle club! says:
well you should try and cheer yourself up
3 comments|post comment

friday again [24 Sep 2004|01:39pm]
[ mood | average ]

I nearly made sarah throw up this morning, by making those "uulgmmhh!" noises and clearing {fake} lumps in my throat.
Beer and cigarettes again at the bar on the hill.

So Screamfeeder were cool. They had all these songs and I was like "ohh yeah, I know that one". Like that song that goes "1 2 3 4 5/Can't you tell that I'm alive?".
Later on in the night I was in the toilets and the chick from screamfeeder came in and I made some drunken ramblings something along the lines of
me: you played a good set! did you have fun?
screamfeeder chick: thanks. yeah, it was good
me: have you playe din newcastle much, i havent seen you before?
sc: um yeah about 10 times
me: oh.. well cool. well... bye!
sc: bye!

When I came out sarah was like "why were you laughing so much? I could hear you laughing really loud from out here". I do not remember this laughing : /

Gerling were teh funness. It cracked me up when the scarf wearing dude was like "i hope the drugs are kicking in newcastle". and everyone was just holding beers. but i guess thats a form of drugs.
anyway the night was too short, i believe.

and now i have like $30 to last me till next week :/
why does life have to suck so much?? I want more money :( Goddamnit. and i have to work tomorrow,and itll be shit. OVER IT.

Today is officially the first day of the holidays, even though I should be in art right now. I am glad its the holidays, but at the same time bummed about having no cash.
This is Not Art http://thisisnotart.org/ starts next week, yay. shall be fun.
at least it'll be something to do in this lame town.

I wish I had done some more uni work lately too.
At leats I went ot bonnie prince billy on sunday night, i guess that will give me some good memories to last over what will be a pretty broing few days...

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random writings [15 Sep 2004|09:12pm]
[ mood | nostalgic ]

private messages and my own writings I've been havin' a look at. All stoof from my WACKY 'ol brain. and other peoples brains

"Like when I watch some stupid late night superbowl game, and its live, well that just kills me. I see some guy in the background bite into a hotdog and I think "I didn't even know that guy existed until RIGHT now. He is biting into a hotdog and he has no idea I have knowledge of that"." - me

"So I guess you play alternative country rock with some sixties psychedelic trance mixed with two step break beatz progressive death metal folk-pop-punk latino garage house tent table?" -me

"I wonder if these boys know this, that there are girls out there that think they are totally adorable and love that they're these geek frail things. I hope one day I get the guts to tell one of them how I feel." - knot me

"Movies for the holidays

Taxi driver
The player
Dazed and confused
A clockwork orange

"Art ideas
t- shirts


andy warhol t shirt – silver clouds picture and underneath ‘warhol’ in red bold

“vest” shirt – diamond prints across t shirt

bow ties

outline of button up shirt" - never did any of this.

"I have no acting range. I play a guy who lives in New York. The two things that I can play is the intellectual guy – because of the way I look, or the low life – because of the way I am.I can pass as an intellectual, because I have my glasses. I come from the streets of brooklyn, im not educated, im more of a guy that’s at home drinking a beer watching his television set" - some woody allen quote

"In the midnight moonlight I'll be walking a long and lonely mile.
And every time I do, I keep seeing this picture of you.

Here's comes my baby, here she comes now,
And it comes as no surprise to me, with another guy.
Here's comes my baby, here she comes now,
Walking with a love, with a love that's all so fine,
Never could be mine, no matter how I try." - cat stevens lyrics


the stranger-albert camus.
Norwegian Wood" by Haruki Murakami.
Perfume - Patrick Suskind
The Handmaids Tale - Margaret Atwood
The Picture Of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
The Plague - Albert Camus
Crime And Punishment - Dostoyevsky
Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
The Collector - John Fowles" I've read one of these books since I made that list months ago.

"Idea for a t shirt : "Ironic T-shirt" "

"So I saw The Strokes, finally. Twice in two days. Their sideshow in Sydney, last Wednesday night, was fucking awesome. I'm so glad I got to go. Read on dudes!
They played with KOL (who I'm a big fan of : ) ) and The Mess Hall.
It was pretty wild - I think most people hadn't seen them before, so when they came out, it was just like fuck, they exist.
Later, when I saw The Flaming Lips (who were just awesome) I noticed Albert on the side of the stage watching them, he was being so cute, you shoulda seen him. He was with Cedric from The Mars Volta, and they were just chatting and he was giggling and walking around and stuff. A bit later I thought I saw this blonde chick come up and kiss him, but it was actually Drew coming up to give Fab a huge kiss. They looked reallly happy!

It was surreal.. and weird. There's a big buzz about Drew being out here for the big days out. Lots of cameras following her around and stuff.
At the end of the flips show, they all went backstage again, and Fab literally walked out on stage in order to get back stage again, staring doggedly into the crowd, then dispearing along with alb and drew.

And that was the last I saw of them." - bdo notes from this year

"I bought a Sonic Youth ticket for myself. I plan to stay in Sydney alone, for a couple of nights, and just hang out.
I might see Elephant when I'm down there.

Did I tell you teenage delinquints have moved into my street at dad's place?
They seem to hang out there friday and saturday nights.. they sit and drink on our drive-way, calling each other slags and cunts.
This one girl started a fight with another girl on Friday night, and aparently bashed her head into the pavement. An ambulance came and everything.
Tonight, when I was pouring a coke into a schooner glass I'd found in the cupboard, Dad asked if I'd brought that home one night.
Shit, I thought.
Did I?
Who can fucking remember.
Then I hear my stepmum calling from the other room.
"I found it out on our front driveway. Don't worry, it's been put through the dishwasher."

I hastily poured the coke into another glass - a non teenage deliquint glass. They'd left it out there, as some sort of message. "We're taking over your driveway at night" kind of message.
Christ, I could use that driveway at night time. But not anymore. There goes all my dreams of late night hand-ball tournaments, just like that. " - pm to a perth kid

"I remember being extremely vacant on New Year’s day, wet and isolated with fear.
Wondering if I did anything stupid last night.
Probably not.
I never did anything too stupid." - beginning of a very depressing/ teenage emo short story on my new years night.

Hmm, this is all very interesting.

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Some new photos. [31 Aug 2004|07:53pm]
I saw sarah, mitchell and nick today at uni. I spent most of the time with mitchell, it felt like we were at school again.
Sarah and I got Datsuns tickets, and were surprised to find out that alot of tickets had been sold already. Come wednesday night, I hope they don't pack us in there like sardines!
I hope you are ok Nikolas, I was worried about you. Know you got lotsa uni work but you'll get through it kid. See you soon hopefully.

These lyrics are making me happy

Meet me in the crowd

People people..

Throw your love around

Love me love me..

Take it into town

Happy happy
Put it in the ground
Where the flowwwwers grow
Gold and silver shine

Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing

Everyone around love them, love them
Put it in your hands
Take it take it
There's no time to cry
Happy happy
Put it in your heart
Where tomorrow shines
Gold and silver shine

Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing

I did this the other day in art:

I love the shinyness

Dad and my cousin Hugo. Gotta love the vomit rag on dad's shoulder.

Toby!! Little poodgley.

Some sonic youth photos.. I love these. Was sucha good night, I had the best time.

Kim + Thurston

Lee Ranaldo (I was closest to him).

Kim and Thurston again.

An outfit I like:

Yeah, well just trying to get through uni work this week. I am procrastinating a law essay and a music review at the moment.
I'll get it done.. hopefully. I hate the feeling of it just being there unfinished.

I'm getting up early tomorrow to meet brianna for studio practise (I am probably interviewing sedge on friday) and then I might have a little sleepy before the datsuns.
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[29 Aug 2004|05:29pm]
[ mood | drained ]

Ah, thank god, the 15.5 hours of working this weekend is over.


Impulse buyed at 4.50pm and grabbed a Ted Leo/Pharmacists cd.
I have never heard any of their music - I am told it's a little folky.
I looked for Interpol, Les Savy Fav, PGMG, Evermore and they weren't there! YAY!

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The Lad With the Silver Button [26 Aug 2004|04:12pm]
Came home early today from uni, 'cos I felt sad in the lecture. I'm such a loner.


In the midnight moonlight I'll be walking a long and lonely mile.
And every time I do, I keep seeing this picture of you.

Here's comes my baby, here she comes now,
And it comes as no surprise to me, with another guy.
Here's comes my baby, here she comes now,
Walking with a love, with a love that's all so fine,
Never could be mine, no matter how I try.
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