Absinthe
One: Ben Harper.
I spent Friday night inBrisbane Gold Sparkle Dust Coast
Scott Thomas from Ringside was there to open which was a pleasant surprise. I didn’t appreciate the two shitheads in the crowd yelling at him to get off the stage. Sure, we’re all here mainly to see Ben Harper but love, these eyes and ears can feed on more. They’re hungry for something other than rollercoasters and the sound of a thousand screaming masochistic holidaymakers. They’re tired of listening to the sound of the creative arts tutor blathering on about creating art for art's sake, about how all the money’s going to our medical faculty instead of the arts, because as we all know, things like sticking a urinal in a gallery space is so much more beneficial to mankind in the long run. And talking down to me as if I couldn't possibly comprehend the concept of colonization because I'm one of those Asian international students. Bitch, I'm from Malaysia, we've been colonized and fucked over in so many ways and so many times over throughout history, your Anglo-Aussie ass couldn't even begin to understand the wider implications of it. Pretentious wanker with limited social conscience and too much eyeliner. Yes, back to Scott Thomas, here’s Scott Thomas and someone's bald head:
I was going to post up some pictures of Z, AA and I at the concert, but vanity got in the way. I looked like a cross between someone who hadn’t slept for three days and Thom Yorke dressed as Paris Hilton with bits of grass stuck on randomly. Besides, who wants pictures of me when I have a picture of Ben Harper with 8 feet tall Dude's shoulder to share...
After the concert, AA and I decided to check out Family, voted Australia's best nightclub two years in a row and figured we should dance 6 hours in a row till sunrise. We managed about two before our feet and our heads got the better off us. It's not a bad place but I think the music can only be fully experienced with the right kind of pills. Which I didn't have because as of 15 months ago, I've decided to swear off all uppers. Got up at noon the next morning and went foraging at the flea market on Brunswick Street (???), then the Institute of Modern Art to make fun of pretentious wankers and be one myself. Last stop was a Greek Festival somewhere on the South Bank where I indulged in obscene amounts of fried cheese and baclava and passed up on the chance to join in on the World's Largest Zorba Dance.
And then it was back to the Coast. And Uni. Pardon the lack of compelling or at least, remotely amusing prose. I've been busy and under stress. And when I'm stressed, I tend to clench my butt muscles which leaves little room for deep contemplation and humor. My butt muscles have been clenched for three weeks running now.
I better have Kylie's derriere by the end of this semester. At the cost of my sense of humor.
Two: Twigs
Mr. Young Attractive Lecturer casually mentioned in class today that he has a girlfriend to the sound of a hundred twigs breaking. Oh, sorry, those were hearts. Crack.
Except, since the heart is a muscle, wouldn't it be more accurate to say that it sprains/ tears instead of break?
Except, what is attributed to the heart mostly happens in the brain doesn't it?
Except, I should shut up.
Three: Spiderweb
I was out in the frontyard, having my morning cigarette and saw a neat little spiderweb glistening in the sunlight. How beautiful ....... if you're not a fly.
I spent Friday night in
Scott Thomas from Ringside was there to open which was a pleasant surprise. I didn’t appreciate the two shitheads in the crowd yelling at him to get off the stage. Sure, we’re all here mainly to see Ben Harper but love, these eyes and ears can feed on more. They’re hungry for something other than rollercoasters and the sound of a thousand screaming masochistic holidaymakers. They’re tired of listening to the sound of the creative arts tutor blathering on about creating art for art's sake, about how all the money’s going to our medical faculty instead of the arts, because as we all know, things like sticking a urinal in a gallery space is so much more beneficial to mankind in the long run. And talking down to me as if I couldn't possibly comprehend the concept of colonization because I'm one of those Asian international students. Bitch, I'm from Malaysia, we've been colonized and fucked over in so many ways and so many times over throughout history, your Anglo-Aussie ass couldn't even begin to understand the wider implications of it. Pretentious wanker with limited social conscience and too much eyeliner. Yes, back to Scott Thomas, here’s Scott Thomas and someone's bald head:
I was going to post up some pictures of Z, AA and I at the concert, but vanity got in the way. I looked like a cross between someone who hadn’t slept for three days and Thom Yorke dressed as Paris Hilton with bits of grass stuck on randomly. Besides, who wants pictures of me when I have a picture of Ben Harper with 8 feet tall Dude's shoulder to share...
After the concert, AA and I decided to check out Family, voted Australia's best nightclub two years in a row and figured we should dance 6 hours in a row till sunrise. We managed about two before our feet and our heads got the better off us. It's not a bad place but I think the music can only be fully experienced with the right kind of pills. Which I didn't have because as of 15 months ago, I've decided to swear off all uppers. Got up at noon the next morning and went foraging at the flea market on Brunswick Street (???), then the Institute of Modern Art to make fun of pretentious wankers and be one myself. Last stop was a Greek Festival somewhere on the South Bank where I indulged in obscene amounts of fried cheese and baclava and passed up on the chance to join in on the World's Largest Zorba Dance.
And then it was back to the Coast. And Uni. Pardon the lack of compelling or at least, remotely amusing prose. I've been busy and under stress. And when I'm stressed, I tend to clench my butt muscles which leaves little room for deep contemplation and humor. My butt muscles have been clenched for three weeks running now.
I better have Kylie's derriere by the end of this semester. At the cost of my sense of humor.
Two: Twigs
Mr. Young Attractive Lecturer casually mentioned in class today that he has a girlfriend to the sound of a hundred twigs breaking. Oh, sorry, those were hearts. Crack.
Except, since the heart is a muscle, wouldn't it be more accurate to say that it sprains/ tears instead of break?
Except, what is attributed to the heart mostly happens in the brain doesn't it?
Except, I should shut up.
Three: Spiderweb
I was out in the frontyard, having my morning cigarette and saw a neat little spiderweb glistening in the sunlight. How beautiful ....... if you're not a fly.
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