Alex-the-Russian

You've probably seen the state of my floor in the previous post, but I don't remember telling you about Alex-the-Russian (dubbed so because my family gets confused and thinks I'm talking about my sister).

Alex-the-Russian is a nice bloke - he feeds slut-face his left-over lunch and I once saw him give her a banana. Also we have smoke-breaks together and talk about Australia-day celebrations. I lied about mine because I spent the day in bed lamenting the previous nights drug-intake.

Anyway, I've taken to considering Alex-the-Russian as a sort of surrogate Father that is there to whip me into place. I've recently acquired a fake job, and when he turns up I'm showered and dressed grown-up. We exchange pleasantries and he says "off to work, Sam?" and I nod "Yes, I'm going to stop in at Uni first" I say - and I get to go another day feeling as though Daddy-Alex-the-Russian approves of my behaviour. The same cannot be said for the hairy-dog-owner housemate, Robbie - upon awaking at around 10:30 Alex-the-Russian will exclaim "You sleep in late!" or "Not at work today?", thus exerting his not-so-subtle judgment upon our disgusting household.

When I return home at approximately four in the afternoon, Alex-the-Russian will say "When does your Mum return?". March. "You have to start cleaning!" he will chirp.

Once I had projectile-Josh over and we were planning our future child together whilst enjoying a pleasant cigarette in the kitchen - he came in and I jumped to attention. Putting my cigarette out, grabbing the make-shift spice-container-turned-cigarette-disposal-item and running outside, I realised that Alex-the-Russian is capable of inflicting the same fear I have of my parents when they catch me stoned on a Sunday afternoon watching True Blood.

Please adopt me!

You might know that I live in a dump. Recently projectile-josh's new male acquaintance told me that I was lying about the state of my pretty little terrace place on Brunswick road. Amongst the elderly, youngerly and bicycle riding freaks of this suburb resides "Terrace" home to the semi-trashy, wholly-dirty and previously homeless and destitute. It's a little bit like an orphanage for badly house-trained Perth kids. We put one foot in front of the other and have come up with this:

Here enters a new character to the family of freaks I'm collecting in melbournetown. Meet Yhana, the part-time vegetarian, aspiring-vegan who can sometimes be found stuffing her face with cheeseburgers on weekend-night-times. For a while she tried to convince us that maccas meat was somehow more ethical due to the relative lack of meat found in their patties. Obviously the bitch never red Fast Food Nation, and Peter Singer wasn't convincing enough for her. Oh, and because she'll probably be offended by this I'd like to note that she also is the medicine-cabinet dictator of the home: when she says 'only take two' you should listen and whilst she was away I noticed that her box-of-treats comes complete with condoms. Obviously a valuable entity.

anything about 25 degrees

I hate summer. Everything is sweaty, and I always run out of deodorant at the worst times. Also the world doesn't produce enough ice and air conditioning to render me comfortable in the heat. With an upcoming month spent in sunnyol' Western Australia everything has suddenly become a little more ominous.

Here are a few things that I hate about Summer:

- Sweat
- That feeling where you're in bed with just a sheet and you're imagining snow and rain and fog and hail, and if there would just be the slightest amount of breeze you could convert to Christianity. Hell, I would become Mormon on those nights. A few sister-wives would do me just fine.
- Smelly Trams. I can't really remember what the deal is in Perth, but I'm assuming that the busses and trains are air conditioned. Well, unfortunately not all of the trams are. Back when I had a job and the world was a darker place, I would get on that peak-hour tram and want to die. When there's sweat pouring down your face which you can' swipe away because you're hanging on for dear life and the guy next to you has his arm up to keep balance and he smells of an entire day of sweat all you can do is buy an icey-pole at the closest seveneleven.
- Festival fashions. I just spent a little while going through photos of Perth's stereosonic. I won't post them because that seems a little too harsh (although Sian probably would), but there are ways of wearing clothes that aren't too hot without looking like you're prepared for some soft porn. I feel a little dubious about those shorts where the pockets are longer than the denim-part, also dico-ball-esque bras.



The one thing I like about summer is that all the kids are out. I went to the art gallery with projectile-josh and nearly stole a baby.

Doesn't this just make you feel p/maternal?

This is why I should activate my debit card..

Vintage Oroton Handbag $59

 

 

 

More Vintage Oroton $65

 

 

 

 

Vintage Brooch $12.50

VINTAGE VELVET CAPE YEY $50

To family and friends - it's my 21st in April (Hint: CAPES AND VINTAGE OROTON BAGS)

Stolen from Frankie

During the 30 something hours it took me to get from Perth to Chicago, I read the latest Frankie magazine, in between watching some ROCKIN' inflight entertainment (including something about the dangers of blizzards during calving season in Montana) and sleeping up right. Basically there was this one section where they asked semi famous Australians what they had done in 2010. I'm not famous but I am pretty awesome. I wrote my own version while trying not to fall asleep during my 5 hour stop over in Sydney. So here is my list of 'accomplishments' for 2010:

• Went to Southbound, St Jerome's Laneway Festival and Big Day Out. Southbound was my fave.
• Finished third year of my Arts Degree. Kind of.
• Got drunk many times and endured many hangovers.
• Decided I wanted to go on exchange to finish my last semester in America.
• Went to Japan and Korea.
• Had sex with someone I probably shouldn't have, in a place we probably shouldn't have.
• Got acceptance letter for exchange.
• Became a Great Cousin (as in, my cousin had a baby).
• Cut and died my hair.
• Got my tragus pierced.
• Had 3 different jobs.
• Developed a proclivity for theft.
• Said goodbye to my sister who moved to Queensland with her boyf.
• Discovered Mad Men, Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia and The Misfits and finally read Nineteen Eighty Four.
• Decided who my real friends are.
• Got an Implanon. Or Franger Injection as Lloyd calls it.
• Couldn't wait for 2011 to start.

more things i want to sew

I already have a cape. It's paisley. I'll get a photo next time it rains. But I want this in black with red buttons. In keeping with the cape theme here are a few others:

 

 (Obviously I must own all of them).

Things I have done

It's been a fairly uneventful week. Here's what happened:

- My housemate returned. The big hairy one that owns the dog.
- He came with ten seasons of friends. I watched seven of them. I can now predict all the Joey jokes, and some of the Pheobe ones. They're my fave - mostly because the sexual tension is never really acted upon. I like sexual tension.
- I ran out of clean clothes.
- I cooked a gross pasta bake that I had to eat over two days because I had no other food or money.
- I realised that I have more money, but couldn't find clean undies, so I went to seven eleven without them. Seven eleven has never been so busy and Melbourne has never been so windy.
- I ran out of papers. Disaster. I've been using cigarettes to abate my hunger. It's not working.
- I rolled a smoke out of the 'ten papers left' paper in the tally-ho packet, only to realise it tasted slightly poisonous.


Oh yeah, Sian is leaving Australia. Which means she probably won't have time to fill this thing with her nonsense. Lucky you guys, right?

Have a good day,

Evilboy.

ps: anna you should totally comment.

Remember when you were younger...

and your parents cleaned your room for you. And when the power went out you lit candles and like, wrote in your diary about the latest boy you liked and how he brushed your hand when you were passing the can of coke?

Them were the days. If I had a blackout now i would stumble over the moulding maccas on my floor from new years eve and cuss.

Anyway, I dare someone to dance like Bob Fossil, video it and send it to me. Not as good as titties, but nearly.

Things I wish people would deliver

- Cash.
- Mc Donalds
- Good Chinese
- Cigarettes
- Clean Clothes
- Chocolate
- Bread + Milk + Cereal

There aren't many ways to describe my New Years Eve of 2010/11 other than: spontaneous, unpredictable and downright dirty.

Like most nights it ended in a late night/early morning trip to the local mcdonalds, but before I pass out from exhaustion here are a few facts about my night (that I will most likely verify sometime tomorrow).


1. My friend josh (I've mentioned him before - he's the one that passes out in his own filth too often.) got pushed into a tram wall.

2. I watched my friend Lennard snot into his beard.

3. I paid a taxi-man $20 to take aforementioned lennard to his home. (which happens to be a $5 ride)

4. I stole: a glass (which i smashed because i was feeling destructive), a painting (which was left outside my house), 4 beers, half a bottle of vodka and a bottle of white wine. Also a ralph lauren, green, knitted jumper and a barry plant house opening sign.