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As it turns out, I’m a dick.

You’d think that when I took decaffeinated.org down all those months ago that I’d make plans to ressurect it sometime soon… and maybe even start working on a new design! But nay, four months goes by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly I’m living in a new house with a new roommate, resuming my studies at Curtin for another year (after that semi-productive year at college) and tapping away on my new Macintosh. I’m still working at Woolworths… but I suppose some things never change.

Lately I’ve been making the move toward a career in programming. Truth be told, web design started to lose its lead in the career–stakes sometime late last year; and though I enjoy developing sites immensely, the process of designing a site from scratch is a tedious one that I’d rather not repeat daily. As for programming, (more specifically: Cocoa programming for Mac OS X) it’s a shame that I didn’t spend my childhood toying with C or BASIC or somesuch, because then I’d have a great headstart on where I am now. Unfortunately, the bones just didn’t fall that way for me (Damn those energetic youthful summers spent riding my bike and building forts. Damn them!) and now I have to play “Let’s learn C as some kind of wacky bridging course into Objective-C!”

In the meantime though I’ll be working on this site… a design-in-progress, starting today at this most base, unattractive level of default Movable Type templatery. Check back daily for more posts and further design evolutions.


What hath God wraught?

Arriving home from work, I notice empty bottles of Smirnoff ‘Ice’ premix on the table. Oddly enough, they yield a strong resemblance to Hahn Ice bottles… at least when empty. I imagine poor, slovenly drunkards unwittingly spending $25 on a sixer of these little bastards thinking that they’re beer, crying out in terror as the first wave of syrupy sugar-water tumbles down their throat. At least, that’s what I imagine Garth doing… since it’s my private hope that he didn’t knowingly purchase such a beverage.


Whatever happened to...

Perth Heat, the Western Reds, and the Western Warriors? It might just be that I don’t follow those sports at all (Baseball, Rugby and Cricket, respectively), but it seems that the only WA sports teams that get any recognition nowadays are of the football variety — that is, the West Coast Eagles and Perth Glory (Aussie Rules football and Soccer, respectively). Hell, even the Perth Wildcats, the heroes of my childhood, are curiously absent these days. I’m sure all these sporting teams are still somewhere, doing something worthwhile… maybe teaching under-9’s how to play, or clothing homeless people, but goddamnit where’s their press?

On an entirely unrelated note; how the hell do you get an iCal event to span more than one day without checking the “All-day event” box? Problem being that I have work tonight at 10pm until 5am tomorrow morning, and damned if iCal is letting me pencil that into my schedule.


Ham Sauce?

Routining Woolworths’ many grocery aisles, as I did this morning, raises some interesting questions. Why the hell would anybody buy a can full of lamb tongues? Is “air” really the scent you should be purchasing to freshen your toilet or bathroom? What role does “Ham sauce” have to play in the evolution of mankind? These questions, and many more, plagued me as the tenth hour of my shift at Woolworths ticked over some time around 7:00 this morning.

Sleeping the day away isn’t nearly as cool as you might expect, and waking up at 5:00pm leaves me wondering how I’m supposed to get to sleep tonight, if ever. Meanwhile, twin sets of tiny red marks on my body lead me to wonder whether a tiny mosquito man and his tiny mosquito wife have taken up residence in my bedroom, or whether my girlfriend has simply succumbed to the unholy bloodlust of vampirism. Either way I’m screwed. Not even Ham Sauce can save me now.


Control my computer from my mobile phone, you say?

It’s time for a new phone. Well, not time yet exactly, but the time is fast approaching. My humble Nokia 3210 is on it’s last legs, what with all the pixel-bezerker action it’s been performing lately (and by lately I mean the last four months), and I settled some time ago upon Sony-Ericsson’s T68i as its successor. This all has to do, of course, with Apple’s iSync utility, announced several months ago, which had me foaming at the proverbial mouth. Hey, what good is a sweet OS and a sweet phone if they can’t do something sweet together? That’s all the justification I need.

Then, of course, came this little piece of genius, which would’ve passed me by completely unnoticed if it weren’t for Macinblog. All said and done, I want one and I want it now. I know I can get one for about $500 through the Quokka (“Brand new! Still in it’s case! Hardly stolen!”), and that Optus is offering them free on their $30 plan, but I also know that I don’t have $500 on me and that Optus are a bunch of lowlife bastards… although somewhat nobler than Telstra.

Decisions… decisions.


Hung over

Let’s just say that I had a great day yesterday. After all, it was Curtin Orientation Day (or, more accurately, just one day in an entire Orientation Week) with all the usual staples… beer, women, bands, hippies desperately thrusting anti-everything flyers in my face, hippies trying to sign me up for every club they can, beer, women, beer. You know the drill.

Moreover, it feels good to be back at Curtin. It feels like a long-lost, underappreciated home that I’m just coming back to. Of course this is all minus that whole study thing, so I guess we can only wait and see what happens once they start forcing work upon me. But for now I can sit back with a beer and a stick of jerky, listening to Magic Dirt playing in the tavern, pondering the next three years of my life, here, a student again.

…and stumble into bed about 1:00am with a glazed expression and a stupid smirk. It’s true what they say — Absence does make the heart grow fonder.


Hung over, part II

It turns out that if you have a few glasses of water, then go out and get a large choc shake and a double quarter pounder with cheese, then go for a drive with the window down and the fresh air pouring in you can shake even the queasiest of feelings.

Maybe if I could distill the essence of these collected experiences and mass-produce it as some kind of elixir vitae I’d be a very rich man. Maybe.


Re: the snow cock

This shit is making me sick. Penises are pornographic now?! Gee, for a moment there I thought that sexually explicit pictures, writing, or other material only becomes pornographic when its primary purpose is to cause sexual arousal. This cock is doing nothing to arouse anything but the ire of the neurotic feminists who’re quoted so much in that damned article. “As a feminist, pornography is degrading to women and creates a violent atmosphere” — Oh, sweet, so you’re justifying that you violently “dismantled” the snow-penis because pornography creates violence… not that we hadn’t already established that this dong does not constitute pornography. If snow-penises and other cocks are such “menacing reminders of women’s sexual vulnerability,” then I think it’s time these women reevaluate themselves. Damned social retards. This is the kind of inane clatter I expect from anybody who takes Women’s Studies as an elective. I sat in on a Women’s Studies lecture last year with some girl friends of mine — that whole damn course should be called “Hating Men 103: How & Why.” Although it turns out not everyone at Harvard is a maniac, the whole debate would be far less offensive to both sexes if the detractors weren’t all female, and the supporters weren’t all male. But I guess that’s the way the world works. Wonderful.

Young Hearts

Importing my Romeo + Juliet CD to iTunes today, for the sake of having Garbage’s #1 Crush in my library (arguably Garbage’s second best song… right after Parade but certainly above Push it), I noted the presence of Kym Mazelle’s Young Hearts Run Free. Remember that song? The video clip was essentially cut straight from the movie, featuring Mercutio (in drag) performing the song at the Capulet’s masquerade shindig.

Years later I saw the real film clip featuring the real Kym Mazelle. What the hell? If she were deformed or maybe a few hundred pounds overweight I might understand the movie’s Publicity Director’s motives for not including her in the original film clip… but unless my memory is totally stunted and unless the photo on this page lies, she fine!