People I’m back! I thought I would pop, it’s been a month of no blogging due to the fact that some cunt fucked my shit up. Whoever you are, I hate you with every fibre of my being! Never mind, come let us celebrate with the most triumphant Melvins!
Honey Bucket
Arise!
September 4th, 2010 § 0
Mad stylings.
August 5th, 2010 § 0
I interrupt what passes as normal programming to bring you two blogs that I absolutely love. Gird your loins for these blogs are huge! The first one needs no introduction and it brings all kinds of crazy to the table. Say what you will about Courtney but girlfriend has an amazing wardrobe. Behold!
Courtney Love
The second blog regards a most fantastic personage by name of Anna Dello Russo. She is the Editor At Large at Vogue Japan. Apparently she keeps her couture in a climate controlled apartment next door to the one she lives in. Check out her shit!
Anna
That is all. Carry on.
Smoking hot not.
August 2nd, 2010 § 2
I despise cigarette smoking with every fibre of my being. Ok I am no slouch when it comes to drugs “cough”, but I do not understand the lure of a drug that is so expensive, devastating to your health, makes your breathe smell like an old man’s fart, your teeth yellow, and your skin wrinkled, all for no discernible benefit. It’s not like you get high! What’s it for? Stop it!
There are two types of people who smoke. Stupid bogans with no idea or stupid “cool” people who think they are “subverting the dominant paradigm”. Whatever, both types are stupid and the net outcome is the same.
To be blunt, I wish that all smokers would just die tomorrow. Ok so I’ll lose a few good friends in the mix but it’s a small price to pay for clean air. I’m reasonable, if people’s smoking didn’t affect me so much by stinking me up and by passively exposing me to the negative health consequences, I wouldn’t give a fuck about people smoking. Let them smoke themselves to death just don’t inconvenience me.
Here is one of those craptastic cigarette ads from the 70s and it is so patronising.
What the frock is the plan?
August 2nd, 2010 § 6
People, rejoice! My 2-week plan is realised. I have attained my performance goal. My black, leather skirt arrived today and it rocks rather hard. Now I must formulate my new 2-week plan. Should it involve these boots? Too 80s OTT? Too red? Fuck it, I quite love them.
Or this black frock? Ok another black frock but you know what? Black works. That is all. 
Or these practical boots for the getting about in?
Oh the problems I have to contemplate on a daily basis. It is hard being me.
Migraineur.
August 2nd, 2010 § 2
I am a migraineur. I get migraines. It’s unfortunate and truly annoying. Once again the tyranny of age is fucking my shit up because my migraine frequency is increasing as I get older. Migraines are very isolating and only fellow sufferers can understand the horror. Turns out I am in good company. There are a plethora of famous migraineurs including Elvis, Julius Caesar, Vincent Van Gogh, Oliver Sachs, Napoleon, Lewis Carroll, Sharon Stone and Anna Nicole Smith. Meh, doesn’t make me feel better.
The whole migraine thing is a long, tedious process. I get prodromal symptoms like tiredness or reflux hours before and then an aura which looks like zig zag lines precedes the bastard behind the eyes. Really the migraine is on one side of my head but I just love using that saying. The worst part has to be the postdrome which can last for days. It’s like having a hangover but without all the fun acquiring the hangover. Unlike Iggy and the Stooges who are quite obviously having a shitload of fun here, I am having NO FUN
Slayer.
July 25th, 2010 § 3
Apropos my New York City post, I came across this flier I had squirreled away. I completely forgot that I had attended this auspicious occasion in 1991. How could I have forgotten something like this? I love Slayer. They are so young in this photo.
I saw Slayer in 2007 and let me tell you they were fucking awesome, it was probably one of the best days of my life. Is that sad? Never mind, for your edification here is Raining Blood live. LOVE!
Planning for that pivotal piece.
July 23rd, 2010 § 3
Undoubtedly you have read my lamentations regarding the preposterous 5-year plan, the universal bane of those of us that are working for the man. Some people like my friend K have their own personal 4-year plan. Me, I have no plan beyond what my next purchase will be in the coming fortnight, a 2-week plan if you will. This is the current 2-week plan:
Ok so I am deeply shallow. I don’t give a fuck.
I dream of NYC.
July 16th, 2010 § 2
The only thing I hate about New York City is having to leave New York City. I also hate that after all these years and all the love I have for that city, I have not managed to live there. I am rather annoyed by this mistake.
I first visited NYC in 1991 and it was everything that I had ever dreamed. I was there for 3 months and fucking loved it. CBGBs was in full swing and I was staying around the corner from there in Second St. I went there often and saw stacks of bands including Australia’s own, The Cosmic Psychos. That was weird. Debbie Harry was there for a sound check one afternoon, in a tracksuit and no make-up, she was beautiful, I swooned. I almost met Courtney Love at CBGBs. True story. I went to see a band called Hole, pre-Nirvana/Kurt Cobain days, the ‘people’ I was with happened to know CL and tried to introduce me to her. Unfortunately Courtney had other ideas and barged past nearly knocking me over whilst fleeing the club! I made an interface with Courtney Love, although at the time I had no idea she was to become a future personage of note.
This is moi in 1991 in Manhattan, NYC, out in front of Julian Billiard Academy, at 138 East 14th Street, between 3rd and 4th Avenues, on the second floor, and right next to The Palladium concert hall and nightclub. I think Julian Billiard Academy featured in a movie starring Paul Newman. but is sadly no more. Look at my outfit, it’s got to be the 90s.
Here I am on 5th Ave. Yes, it’s the Trump Tower and it’s 1991.
This was taken by the the Hudson River near the West Village. It looks NOTHING like this now, neither do I. Admission, I still have those boots and still wear them. BEST.EVER.PURCHASE. ‘Sourced’ them from Trash and Vaudeville on St Marks Place, which happily still exists today. 
I wish I had kept those Raybans. Where the fuck did they go?
I went back to NYC with my sister in 2000. Both of us had recently had horrid relationship disasters, (don’t ask). As a panacea, we went to NYC for 1 month. Here I am on the roof of the twin towers!
I was in NYC in 2008, it has changed so much. Again I stayed on Second St, this was the view from the window. In 1991 the view included dudes smoking crack.
New York I love you. That is all.
R.I.P. Winklewood Irish Affair
July 7th, 2010 § 3
I bemoan the tyranny of age. On 23/6/2010 my darling dog passed away at the age of 17 years. Winklewood Irish Affair AKA Snuffy was a beautiful, little boy with the most affectionate countenance which he maintained whilst ailing right through to the end. He had a fabulous life and was truly loved. I miss him. This is a pictorial celebration of his life.
This is him in 1993 the year he was born as a wee, baby poodle. Look I am wearing leggings and Dr Martens, it must be the 90s!
Snuffy really liked punk rock and here he is donning his SIC t-shirt.
Here I am with Snuffy frolicking on the beach in a very 90s grunge sort of way.
This is his sire Winklewood Baileys Irish Cream. Really. He was a Royal Melbourne Show Champion. Is he not magnificent?
Snuffy looking all grown up, freshly groomed replete with red hair bows.
Snuffy was so handsome in his prime. He was show quality don’t you know!
He hated my horse. There was a degree of jealousy involved. Horse looks singularly unimpressed.
Here he is with his ‘wife’ Coco and their offspring. The black puppy is Holly who we kept and she is still kicking at age 15. Holly is awesome.
This is Snuffy with Holly on a couch that no longer belongs to me. It was fucking uncomfortable anyway. 
This is Snuffy and Holly being cute on my bed.
What a gorgeous pair of poodles. That is all.
Snuffy as an old boy.
Like all oldies he liked to have many disco naps.
Looking very metal with this hair style.
Here having a nap with his daughter Holly and best chum Sooty.
Still napping……
17 is old for a dog but not long enough in my time. I wanted Snuffy to live forever. R.I.P. Snuffy.
I swear.
June 20th, 2010 § 4
I swear. A lot. My every day chatter abounds with well positioned fucks, cunts and variations thereof. I can pinpoint when I began swearing so profusely to the time a ‘carni’ family moved in next door. I was in grade 3 and the family had a son my age who I hung with. He swore heaps, I picked it up and the language became firmly entrenched! I fucking love swearing and people who get offended really annoy me. It is a valid form of expression and sometimes no other words will do. As a celebration of cursing, please enjoy the following montage of Susie from Curb Your Enthusiasm, one of my all time favourite TV series. I watch this particular clip regularly as it really cheers me up.If you don’t like it you can shove it up your arse and fuck right off!
