This post is picture heavy because that's the way I like it.

So I have THE sexiest wound on my hand:
I either:
a) got bitten by a child
b) had a fist fight with a stapler, or
c) decided to stitch myself in my sleep.

I like all of the above, but option a) is most viable, on account of the fact that children, LOTS OF CHILDREN(!), roamed my house on Saturday night.

No, I'm not running an under-the-table sweatshop operation, nor am I running a harem...

This past weekend saw my sister celebrate her sixteenth birthday with a little shindig at our abode. I, like any other social-trainwreck, of course retreated to my room for a portion of the festivities for - you guessed it - vapid camwhore time!

Here are some legit pictures of the 'Beauty & The Geek' themed event:


So that was Saturday. I did actually have a better time than I let on because I may or may not be a massive pedophile. And also Isabelle had the dance floor happnin' so rest assured this l'arj ass flew in every direction. I'll just say though that the youth of today don't shake their hips quite near how they need to...

I got to catch up with my dear long-lost Rossco, who has been back on Sydney soil for the past week. He walked out of his house and jumped into my passenger's seat holding a bowl of meatballs (homemade) and cucumbers (homegrown). It was as hilarious as it was delicious.
(Stalk the album here.)

And the rest of my existence has been spent at work, driving to and from work, and attempting to write music. (Trivia: the track I've been working on this week is called 'Cyclone'. It is my foray into chill-out / electronica.) I will mention, however, that I spent yesterday's and today's lunchbreak at the gym. I feel like I've cheated the system somehow, like I've pilfered extra hours for my day from a communal time-bank. Whatever the case, it's a habit I'd like to sustain. Cocaine is too costly. (By the way, Dad, I'm joking. The only lines I can afford to sniff are that of the homebrand ground pepper variety...)

And speaking of sustaning habits, DAMN thingsinmynose is a FAIL! Merely three weeks since its inception and I've already dropped the ball(s) like a twelve year old going through first-time puberty. Gosh, commitment is not a quality I am adept at. Also, it gives me the heebie-jeebies...!

I should go. It's a big day at work tomorrow. Guest post tomorrow by a handsome, but awful, young man who we will fondly refer to as Mojo Wardell. He is adamant about convincing me that I am not human, but actually a robot or sometimes corm, and he is also embarrassed to be seen in public with me, which is why from now on, he will always have a paperbag with which to cover his face.

In the following picture, I took the liberty of drawing the paperbag on because I am considerate!

But then I thought, maybe I should be the one with the paperbag over my head.

Thoughts? And yes, hopefully that is a sufficient introduction. A guest post tomorrow from Mojo Wardell. He already submitted it to me on Sunday, but I am one with the art of procrastination! As I, on behalf of Daddy, have previously said: "Better late than pregnant!"

And damnit.
This whole post has made me super nostalgic about my 21st, three months ago.

Night, turdeaters!


  1. It's not a super sweet sixteen w/o a luxury car out front for the lucky birthday girl. Don't you watch MTV occasionally. lol

    Don't worry about dropping the ball on thingsinmynose because there's still plenty of time to jam stuff up your nose.