punchdrunkblake

Went to an absolutely insane house warming party on the weekend in Bathurst. Living down there could be the kind of existence I could get used to if I had absolutely no ambition and no hunger for live music; sadly I've got tonnes of both. The house was inhabited by four male specimens, one of which is a good friend from a long way back. Since his relocation to Bathurst (at first for university, now to kill time until he starts a job in Sydney sometime mid-year) I haven't seen Ashton albeit once at a party up here four months ago. Delmar and I drove down which was really cool because despite the heat there was a lot of bonding going on and bucket loads of hilarity.

Anyway, once we hit the house there are a few people hanging around the backyard drinking and hanging out. These people, like Delmar and myself, following a strict conduct set down on the invitation, are dressed as pirates. There are drinking games going on already and the sun hasn't even dropped yet.

Anyway, cut to later and I'm fairly shit faced and there's a local folk come foots band throwing down some pretty chilled tunes out into the backyard. It's packed out now, over a hundred people pissing on and pulling drinks out of an inflatable pool full of ice. Now, this isn't the only pool in the backyard. The other pool is also inflatable but it is indeed full of water. And so a plan is hatched...

Cut to me finding a ladder.

Cut to me climbing a ladder.

Cut to me crawling to the edge of the fibreglass roof.

Smash cut to the roof giving way, fibreglass snapping and shards becoming lodged in my hands, arms and legs. I smash my jaw on a wooden beam on the way down. The bottom of the pool is so thin I smash my foot on the concrete beneath the two feet of water that constitutes this 'pool'.

And then the cover is over my head and someone pulls it off and the band doesn't matter cause I've drawn more attention to myself than a fucking nuclear blast in peace time.

I take off down the driveway for whatever reason, bleeding profusely, but suddenly realize I'm full of fibreglass and so I head back to the backyard and into the back of the house yelling "I need a fucking shower, show me the fucking shower" over and over again.

So I stand under the hot water for ten minutes and then go get changed and then, what the fuck, we go to the goddamn pub!

I conceal my wounded arm at the door and pay the five dollar cover charge and once inside meet a cute little blonde with dreads and tattoos called Anne-Marie. Don't hyphenated names just own ass?

We talk for a bit and play pool and then head off to Burger King to get a 2am snack, then I walk her home.

Cool girl, wish there were more like her.

Stumble home and sleep in the car, sore but content.

Hung out with some of the SG gang on Friday evening at 34B; good times had by all. I broke a golf club on a telephone pole and smashed my hand. My new name is 'Master Destructor'.

Yesterday was a lovely little BBQ and a few hands of poker with TheFuckOffKid and Anton. I suck ass at said card game and ended up doing nothing but dealing out the cards after about 4 hands. Note to self: you suck at poker, Blake.

Today was first day of university. I'm reasonably underwhelmed by the curriculum; we're supposed to be studying dada. Why? The whole concept goes against the idea of art and for an art school to be teaching that seems pretty fucking stupid to me. I think every essay will involve me dissing said topic and then going on a rant about Alex Grey or Stanislav Szukalski. On the extra curricula activities front there's this little nugget; all the first year femme fatales are fucking gorgeous.

I bought this book on Darren Aronofsky's film The Fountain on the way home because I was so disillusioned. That's a fair excuse for such a purchase, right?

I'm really looking forward to getting some sort of real shelving system so I can get all my movies and books in the one place. We're all nomads until we're home owners and then we have fallen under the web of the panopticon.

Blake: (in Hannibal Lector voice) "I burnt myself with a candle stick."

Anton: "Why are you telling me this, Hannibal?"

Fried gold right there.

...is for Dillinger Escape Plan album preview.

"I'm gonna tell everybody the story about when I killed a drifter to get an erection."

They're the best band on the planet and they're hilarious, who would have thought?