Risky Buisness

University... alright. so i was going to write a post about how university sucks because if you dare to make friends and they end up to be creeps you're kinda stuck "knowing" them and then you may be forced to sit with them in lectures or just seeing them around the campus could become really awkward, therefore stating that making friends, wait not even that, TALKING to people at uni is very risky... HOWEVER. right as i opened this post a boy who I've nicknamed Marc or Cutie with the Lisp and who I don't actually know but I've stared at him on my bus a few times and maybe spied on him with his girlfriend once (le chagrin) just entered the room I'm in.

Now... a different risk to the one that I had originally meant to explore in this post has arisen.... can he see what I'm writing o0oO0oO0o0o0O00ooOo

Away

She lies there waiting, her legs creating two triangles as her knees face the cracks in the ceiling.

He looks over at her and he finds himself looking for the significance in this relationship, not the success. He knows that there are those who fling the words like synonyms but you can't use those two words interchangeably.

She flicks her dry hair over her shoulders and brings her hand up to signal the come hither with her fat fingers. The only thing he's thinking is that he can barely see her knuckles. He moves over as slithers her body, slithering because she thinks it's sexy. She's in control of her body, moving the way she thinks he wants to see her when really it just pisses him off. Her smell is always covered by some sort of flowery scent or teenage body spray. Oh but now he can finally smell her for who she is and now he can see the sweat stains through her flimsy white shirt, and you know what? It fucking stinks. He dips his head and not long later she's quivering and saying yes, more, stop, fuck, not, more, than, one, syllable.

The question of what do you want to be when you grow up lies beside him. Amongst everything in life about doors closing and jumping through windows, about lemons, about the world as his oyster, as the options in life being infinite, about hard work paying off, there hangs something heavier than all that is inspiring. The possibility of dying in the same city you were born, living in the same radius you'd rode around as a kid, never seeing the cities you said you would live in, better yet, not making enough money to see those cities.

She laid next to him in her damp spot, whilst his bony back curved away from her.

Originality written: 19/8/10

I have no idea what I was on about less than half a year ago but I decided to write a bit more.

Gretel Says

Gretel: When I'm an adult I want a big black car, definately a merc... actually I wouldn't mind a white one. Yeah black or white, I'm multi car-ltural!

Originality written: 11/3/10

And so the plot thickens

OH MY GOD DIRTBAG AWKWARD

well this is odd. BlogBear has gone to bed before me. She wished me good luck with finishing my Lit essay and was gone before i had time to reply. I don't actually have any intentions of doing it tonight. I don't know where she got the idea from that I would. I mean, yes it was due a very long time ago but she should know me better than that. Although how can she truly know me when I'm not in bed yet. I seem to be acting unlike myself. or rather like my old self.

Since I'm not busy writing an essay I'll take a moment to say a few things about two things australians seem to love and which i don't particularly.

1. Jeggings

I think that they hit off so well with the general australian populace because the general australian populace is really dumb. I beleive that they're under the impression that jean leggins are the step above skinnylegged jeans in terms of being tight, and of course tight means pulls your fat in which equals skinny (er). But infact, leggings don't work in the same way as jeans. Denim is strong, sturdy and thick material. Whatever leggings are made of (I'd say lycra but i saw a particularly heinous breed of jeggings by Ed Hardy and god knows what they were made from) is not. They are thin and elasticy and that's why they're so comfortable. You see, leggings do not work in the same way that skinnylegged jeans do because rather than pull your fat in, it allows it to wobble all the while moulding around your cellulite dimples. In these people's minds the skinnylegged jeans was the biggest innovation the fashion industry had ever seen until it got out done by the miraculous jean legging, "oh my it's just the tightest kind of jeans ever!!"- NOT

2.Miranda Kerr
God, everybody just loves Miranda Kerr, don't they. Well you know what, no only really Australians do. The Australian media loves to make out like she's doing so well on the international runways and so what if she is, those people are dumb too. Not really, I'm just really angry. My problem with Miranda Kerr is that i believe most people only like her because they've been told she hot. That's it, been told! She is constantly being labled as the hottest chick out but really I've seen waaaaaaaaaaaay hotter, way hoter australians even. Everyone thinks that just because she's a Victoria's Secret Angel that she's this mega babe. Uh-huh. Have you seen how hot the angels used to be. There aren't tits anymore, only push up bras. These girls are no where near as hot as they used to be, even doutzen's gotten skinnier. So my point is you can't just say she's an angel therefore hot because these angels are nothing compared to the old standards.

So there's her 'hot' body gone. Next, her face. Have you even looked at her face? I doubt it. And if you have it's only to see her dimples which aren't the good kind but rather the fucked kind which pinch at your like taylor swift's eyelids. gross.

I only say all this because I'm sick of EVERYBODY loving Miranda Kerr. I don't believe it. I understand that everyone has differences in opinion just like how BlogBear used to tell me Hana Soukupova was ugly. Fair enough, I came to accept it but the thing is, THIS ISN'T YOU OWN ACTUAL OPINION!!! You are just being fed this idea that Mirana Kerr is hot. There are so many hotter girls out there. Also if you're going to use that she's now on the international runways so she's therefore doing somethign right as one of your points, sure, and then look at her alongside all the other models and realise they shit on her. seriously.

Originality written: 9/8/10

In a while crocodile

When he left, when he stepped away, I missed him every day and it stopped. Where my blood no longer ran deep. I had thought it would and when it stopped I imagined it would never come back.

Originality written: 8/11/09

I'm not even sure who wrote this.

Felatio

I sometimes remember the time I sat down to dinner and there was a bowl of penis in front of me and get really really confused.

The fact that I ate penis shaped pasta with my parents and brother is unbelievable to even me, the person who physically lived it and who knows somewhere deep inside it's the truth... somewhere...

very, very deep....

in a very, very dark place...

Fr-eeeeeak-y

The following is a word for word text I sent to my sibling.

"Serial killer/rapist-like man sat next to me on the train when there were plenty of seats left and kept looking at me. Then when I got ready to go out he seemed to get up to let me off then I tripped and stepped on Someones foot and it was him. He grabbed my back and said "thats ok" he smells like freaky old man. Anyway now he's on the bus to uni. As if he's actually going to uni he doesn't even have a bag. He also has dad sandles and gold earrings. He irks me. Anyway, this is info to give to the police when he uses my skin to make a cape."

Love the hard way

"She looks at him again, then with a painful smile she switches off the light and leaves. The room is dark again."

IT TASTES LIKE YOU BUT SWEETER

You can't try live it like it's a movie. You can't see a character and think it's you then try and become them. Because you aren't them and you never will be.

September 1, 2009 at 12:00am

Empty,

Gutless, my spine keeps me upright,

I am but a cavity

Filled with fallen laughs

Another new year

So a new year within an already new year has rolled in and yet no achievable new years resolutions have been made but change is constant so I'll be lazy (some things don't change?) and depend on that to make me a better man. It feels like I'm waiting for two months for the year to begin because this by far feels like the longest summer, with a few weeks of winter wedged in between, which has given me a lot of time to think.

You know at first when I was away I missed people, things... and I know it can sound shitty but I stopped missing everything from Perth, and when you don't miss anything from home it's as if there's nothing to come home to and even more reason to stay away. Right now I want to be somewhere very, very remote. Somewhere without people with their opinions that are nothing more than that, till they work out a way to stamp 'fact' on their own thoughts. I want to be somewhere without constant noise, somewhere so quiet that I can hear my own heart beat because I heard that's possible in Antarctica when I was younger.

At Big Day Out my eyes feasted on countless bikini clad girls and melanomas in the making. Oh how I love the way it's always the men that say "konnichiwa" to me, one man yesterday kept saying the one word over and over with crescendo because that's how pathetic people are, they'll say the same pointless thing over and over, faster and faster, and for fucking what, for me to turn around?

Yesterday everything sounded distant, my ears were still ringing and I could not help but suspect the people I saw as an ignorant bogan deep down. I just wanted to ask straight out, "were you or were you not at big day out yesterday? And if so, do you or do you not have the southern cross tattooed on your back?" So there you go, I don't know if that's reason enough but right now it's why I want to be anywhere but here.

Shit that doesn't matter that I miss

I miss:

- lots of bins being everywhere

- starbucks not being everywhere

- pillows that don't feel like they have rice in them (Dirtbag sleeps on pillows filled with spaghetti, weird huh?)

- foxtel

- a bit of sunshine

Kyoto, kyoto, kyoto, go! go!

How does one survive a family trip unscathed? The current status of my family is:

Father = mediator

Mother = angry at everyone

Sister = angry at me and brother (however has presented a united front with a hated enemy against myself)

Brother = angry at everyone on some level

Moi = angry at everyone minus father.

Today I cycled to the Imperial Palace, dodged geishas whilst it started to snow, froze to death... all in day in Kyoto.

The perfect situation to which a family can fight about is, of course, directions. Everyone is stubborn and thinks their pathway is the right one, which obviously results in a "I told you so" moment, which feels so very good for the person who says it. This is pretty embarrassing but my sister accidentally hit my eye this afternoon and I started crying in the middle on the street... the pain sort of subsided which left a hot rage inside of me. So my sister starts walking away from me for being stroppy with her post-punch, I call out something along the line of "OI FUCK HEAD, I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY". Oh how great it is to fight in english amongst Japanese people... Then from then it's a bit of swearing and then both of us stomping back to the hotel.

Shit things about fighting on a family holiday:

- Sharing a room with the person you are fighting with.

- Fighting in Japan as there is a lack of space.

- Fighting in a room where all the doors are un-slammable.

- Cold weather which makes it harder to go have a 'run away from home' attempt.

An after thought

Oh and I tried on these shoes... they made me feel like I was standing on stilts and instantly increased my chance of snapping my foot in half.

2011 wasn't like that when I met her

Considering Dirtbag hasn't zoned in on the first blog of the year it makes sense that I get to bring in such a futuristic year with a post whilst in Japan. Futuristic year you ask? Well, well, well. (I'd say quell but that'd be pretty 2008 of me). Well 2010 seemed like the most futuristic sounding year, don't know if I've mentioned that already or not, I remember my sister told me she wrote a short story when she was a kid about the future which she had set in the year 2010... with flying cars and what not. Did it ever bother you last year that no transport was used via hover craft? Instead we had the trustworthy Transperth to bring us to and fro. Why don't we ever wear sick clothes like the Jetsons? Our clothes should look like foil, instead we have American Apparently you're cool... nah, nah, I can't explain about that here and now, maybe later. I'm no fan of people telling others how to dress but... here's the exception, WE SHOULD ALL BE WEARING SILVER CLOTHING. Gotta live up to the standard of our childhood dreams.

So here's my plan, let 2011 be the most futuristic year yet... it will be the wet dream of all futuristic dreams; like walls of vaginas.. in the future.

Oh and about Japan, it's the future city! (as my friend referred to it as last night). I don't know how I'm going to settle for a non-warm toilet seat (nah I defiantly can explain this one, I don't actually like them, it's good because it's pretty cold here but my first thought was that someone had been sitting on the toilet for a fucking long time before me, warming other seats is ok but toilet seats... nah I'm ok), how will I settle for a toilet that doesn't wash my bum for me? One that doesn't play soothing ocean noises? That flushes when I stand up and have a tap on top of it that opens once I stand up? One that has a 'flushing' noise for those that are embarrassed of the sound of their eliminations.. POO. So yeah, that was a solid paragraph on toilets which justifies why Japan lives in the future.. today. (Awesome advertising tag line huh?)

See you in the future suckerz! (in the future it becomes okay to replace the traditional 's' with a 'z' to indicate to others how dardz you are).