ikea is its own punishment

so we went to ikea. even though we hate going there, we hate victoria gardens and we were both sleep deprived.

but we finally managed to buy a couple of chairs to let us seat 6 round the dining table. at $28.50 each, the only ones who luck out are those chinese kiddies who sacrificed their eyesight for our bullshit entertaining priorities.

we also purchased…

Continue reading “ikea is its own punishment”

some updates

i feel that i should extend my fashion palete from only red, pink and purple, to include blue and green. with the help of my lovely assistants ikea and spotlight.

work: delivered the paper last thursday and it went swimmingly. minor problems:
1)too long. thought so, but supes said it was ok. will now follow instincts in this matter
2)lack of dvd player was a poo. hard to talk about dancing when people don’t have a clue what it looks like
3)lack of purpose-specific footage was irritating

craftiness/expressions of obessive-compulsiveness:
bought some primary colour cotton fabric to make small, quilted seat cushions. mmm-mm. also bought some green and blue wool (not acrylic, for once!) to make sexy crocheted things using the book of stitches The Mother bought me yesterday. also considered beginning embroidery sampler at 11pm, but vetoed in favour of 100% attention for Kill Bill.

the p’s are here and this too is going swimmingly. suprising, really, when you consider the fact that our two bedroom house is now sleeping four, none of whom will sleep with any of the others because of Snoring. NB – i am the only non-snorer. my loss, obviously.
we have been out to dinner a few times (including Growlers last night, where i saw People i know and had a nice dinner), been to ikea (which is shameful, but the p’s had hired a car), so we could buy some crap.

my djing paper

i’m giving a paper on djing in the department today/tomorrow, and i need a copy i can print out at work. so i’ve emailed it to myself and i’m uploading it here. ah, the ultimate public private…
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The Mother and i went to the aquarium yesterday, and wandered around quite happily for a couple of hours. i surprised myself with some utterly amazing photos. i’m really getting into this whole digital camera thing – instant gratification = go.

Continue reading “jellies”

i don’t know why

i don’t know why i don’t just pop her site over there on the side so all (3) of you can go look at her site yourselves. i just can’t stop reading that horrid wench’s blog. it’s just so painful. and while there was Secret Glee in the misfortune of others in my prior readings, now it’s just plain scary. i just don’t understand this chick.

god, i wish she didn’t post so often. then i’d not be tempted to read. urk.


And once again I’ve written too many words.
The paper has grown to 5820 words. For a paper I’d intended to be 30 mins long max. oh well.
I am editing. It’s pretty much my main job. I can write a million words, really quickly, but I need to edit and edit and edit to make the thing worth reading

about the hat

it’s made of fleece and is very warm.
part of being cool is not caring about whether you’re cool or not. that’s what makes you cool.

as soon as you start fussing about whether or not you’re cool, or you start hassling other people about not being cool, you compromise your own coolness.

same goes for masculinity. only those with deep-seated anxieties about their own masculinity hassle other blokes about theirs. blokes who’re comfortable with their own masculinity feel no need to wave their tool about in other people’s faces, either actually or metaphorically.

unless it’s for the sake of a particularly Witty and Clever practical joke. then it’s a different matter.

am i on crack?

i’m just obsessed.
i keep looking at that horrid girl’s blog. i don’t know why. i just can’t understand my own masochism. maybe it’s because i know her and she posts a lot, so i get to read a lot of bits of crap about her daily life. i mean, it’s not like she writes particularly well (although she’s readable), or does anything particularly interesting. in fact, she does one lame thing after another, has one stupid thought after another.

i just can’t understand that type of melbourne uni pgrad. god, are they all this stupid? seems there’s a pattern: pgrads who’ve done all their prior degrees at unimelb, are very young (under 25 is pretty damn young) and haven’t really been living out of home long, all of them are utterly clueless when it comes to recognising their own privileged status. all spoilt brats. all tosser middleclass kiddies with no clue, who can’t understand why working mother students should be at uni,let alone need flexible class timetables. all absolute fukks (in the unimelb english department, anyway) who’re contributing to cultural studies’ rep as depoliticised and ultimately contributing to Evil.

but i can’t stop reading this horrid thing. this is not sympathy i feel, nor pity. just a deep, cringing embarassment.