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My Toothbrush Broke

Hey, will you be my girlfriend? Just for the weekend, so that I can borrow your toothbrush, and it won’t be awkward.

La La Land

I read a post on Thom Yorke’s weblog. Later I read a post on John Darnielle’s weblog. That made me think that Thom Yorke should not have a weblog.

That Sarah Blasko Song

A strong argument for tight immigration regulation.

The people hitting my site while searching for various variations of ‘that hey now song by Sarah Blasko’ have quite obviously only stepped onto Australian shores within the last few days. Forget barbeques, forget VB, if you didn’t recognise that (absolutely stunning!) performance at the Commonwealth Games closing ceremony as being a cover of Crowded House’s Don’t Dream It’s Over, then you are completely un-Australian.

I say we trace their IP addresses and deport them.

New Years Poo

Two things. Firstly, Ross Noble’s latest tour is hilariously funny. Secondly, I am unbelievably unfit.

On the weekend, Timbo and I, as well as a couple of others, went out and saw Ross Noble’s Randomist. He started off a bit sluggish - and by sluggish, I mean sluggish by super-comic-Noble standards - but when he returned after the interval he was absolutely on fire. Seriously, you should go see him, or buy the DVD. Or both, that would be ideal. I’m definitely going to steal his brilliant idea which involves poo and new years eve. So if you’re hanging out with me on new years, it’s gonna be great. Mainly for me. Don’t worry, no one gets poo thrown at them or anything vulgar like that. Heh.

On to my poor physical shape. I am by no means overweight, in fact I’m a bit underweight. I used to run quite a bit, twenty kilometres twice a week for a while (a while being not very long at all). I haven’t run in months. Sitting there, doing nothing but laughing at Noble, I got a massive stitch, I had serious trouble breathing, my neck, of all things, started to cramp up, and when I stood up after the two or so hours I almost fell down again with exhaustion. Talk about feeling fat. I’m not, I’m blessed with a killer metabolism, but I still need to go skipping (er, whatever) once a week to offset my office lifestyle.

Ross Noble. Randomist.

It’s Summertime In My Head

The desire to roll around in a space bubble is just one side of my personality. And wouldn’t most people do it if they had the chance? The difference is that I really do have the chance. Ain’t that great?”

“When we first did the space bubble, it was like ‘Well, Thom Yorke’s not going to get in one of these things, so I might as well.’ I figured that if I didn’t break my neck it would probably be pretty cool. It would be all wrong if we didn’t do it. I just use my experience of seeing The Who and Kiss when I was a teenager. If Kiss didn’t do the fire and the make-up, I’d have said, ‘Hey, I want my money back.”

Wayne Coyne

Head Like a Heart

I love cover songs. I have absolutely no idea what makes a good cover - some people say that a covering artist has to change the song to make it their own, but I disagree. Sometimes it’s the artists that I like who makes the cover good, sometimes it’s an artists I’d never listen to, but the song makes it good. Sometimes it’s neither.

Some covers just click, and turn out great. One such instance is Atreyu covering Bon Jovi’s You Give Love a Bad Name. Previous to hearing this I had never heard the song, and never heard anything by Atreyu. But this just rocks, in a bit of a metalcore way (and I don’t even like metal).

Shot through the heart
And you’re to blame
Darling you give love a bad name
I play my part and you play your games
You give love a bad name

Another almost as great cover, is Head Like a Hole by AFI. This one obviously ‘just clicks’ too, because we all know that the only thing worse than NIN is goth music (Or maybe those two are the same thing? I don’t know).

They’re definitely not the best covers going around (hello Idlewild’s I Found that Essence Rare!), but you should still be listening to them.

This Modern Station

Train stations are a portal to a different universe. Did you know that?

As soon as you step into a train station everything is different. The first thing you notice is the time. Time becomes essential, it is everywhere, suddenly time is everything. There’s clocks everywhere. A moment ago you were strolling down the street, now you race to the platforms, fumbling hurredly for change in front of the figure behind the window who always mumbles in a foreign language.

What you see from the window of a train you never see in real life. Because it’s a different universe. There’s no people in this universe. It’s tricky, because it looks familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. It’s like an inverted version of our world. Like you’re looking at everything from… well, the other side.

Perhaps the most disturbing thing about being on a train is what it does to people. People become different. They no longer act the same, or look the same. The etiquette is all different. Everyone is silent, apart from middle aged ladies, who noisily apply sunscreen.

Social status changes. It’s reversed. Old people intimidate young punks. A woman with a young child in a pram is now given attention from people who aren’t lonely men. Posh people are now happy to sit on a filthy leather seat, hardly noticing the gum and spilt soft drink. People glance furtively toward the doors. All the time. As if their station is today going to spring a surprise on them. Why?

On a train, everyone is alone.

Sometimes while you’re looking out the window, trying to decipher the meaning of the matrix-like world outside, everything outside suddenly flashes blue, silver and yellow, and there is a loud thundering and whistling sound which lasts for about ten seconds, and then, suddenly as it started, it stops. What is that? I think it has something to do with terrorism. Like how there are never any rubbish bins in the station. And that lady recites poetry about not leaving your bombs unattended. She knows everything, that lady. She must be god of that universe.

Me + Isolde

I watched Tristan + Isolde. I didn’t intend to watch Tristan + Isolde, but all the other movies that were showing were either rubbish or didn’t have my name in the title.

It’s heaps good, you should watch it.

Seems girls have been like this since medieval times.