Rocks

If you manage to pull it out you, um, become King of the Fruits I guess.


Tonight at the pub quiz I learnt that Tolstoy had a really big beard. Seriously, dude looks like he stuck his face in a hedgehog. I bet the working title for 'War & Peace' was 'War, Peace, and My Awesome Beard' but the publishers made him change it.

Anyway, you may have noticed I added a 'reasons to read' thing in the sidebar. For those of you who have only recently become faithful followers of this my excellent blog, it's just quick links to some posts which Andrea & I consider worth reading. You'll notice that while this blog has over 230 posts in total (yeah, I know, who would've thought I had so much nothing to talk about) I have only listed 7 in the sidebar. This isn't some kind of quality/quantity ratio indicator, just a demonstration of my extreme self-restraint.

There was a paragraph here but it was pretty racist so I deleted it.

Andrea and I were also talking about which Google search phrases bring people to our respective blogs (you can check that kind of thing, you know). At the moment most of my Google referrals come from people searching for 'today is my birthday' (although 'enormous banana' and 'airplane hangover' have also brought in their fair share.) However, I was wondering if maybe my blog would experience a sudden jump in popularity should I include more commonly-searched Google terms. You know, things like transformer porn and real ninja attacks and swine zombies. If you think I missed something let me know.

We'll see.

Anyway, here's a poem. This is called Ode to The Rock, and is about a musician I used to know, who thought he was a-may-zing. The Rock was one of his nicknames. One of the other ones was The Shark.

Just imagine it's about a douchebag and you're delivering it in a really over-dramatic tone, and you'll more or less have a handle on it. (It's number 2 of a series: number 1 was very similar and called Ode to Tod, but I can't find it, and number 3 is still in the works.)


Ode to The Rock

You see him walk into the room; you see the ladies flock.
How lucky are we all to share a planet with the Rock!

When searching for a haven for your ship of love to dock,
Look no farther than the harbour of the ardour of the Rock!

Not a single pimple his face would dare to pock;
Smooth as a baby’s bottom is the surface of the Rock.

At the rainbow’s end of romance, he is that treasured crock
If not gold, you must admit he’s full of something, is the Rock.

When he’s in the room, common sense is out of stock
We all fall upon our faces at the altar of the Rock!

There’s nothing he can’t play, no musical door he can’t unlock
It’s theorised that Mozart had nothing on the Rock.

If he should stoop to look at me, my knees begin to knock
A rose by any other name is simply called, ‘the Rock.’

Our hands met on a pencil with an electric shock -
It could have been the carpet, but I think it was the Rock.

The other day he spoke to me! I cried out, “Stop the clock!
I want to stay forever in this moment with the Rock!”

He fixes everything, from leprosy to writer's block,
And every night I pray, “Hey, God…hand over to the Rock.”

I remember when the concept of true love I used to mock -
Then something smashed the window of my heart. It was... the Rock.

This is quite dull

I really have no news except that Google, which displays ads specifically geared towards my viewing preferences, thinks I might like a recipe for 'Spam Vegetable Strudel.' Seriously, Google, I don't even kn- oh, it's served with soy sauce? Well OK then.

So I'm going to take the traditional route when faced with a dearth of blog material: respond to a questionnaire I was tagged in ages ago. Or, in this case, respond to a questionnaire that I wasn't even tagged in in the first place. (I know, it's going to be boring. I received a request yesterday that said "do you think you could maybe not use strikethrough for a couple of posts and see if it doesn't kill you," so I don't even have that to fall back on.
Look! Look what I'm doing! Ha ha, fuckface!
Anyway, for the quiz. Here are the 'rules' (I say 'rules' because I'm not planning on abiding by them) for this quiz, which I stole off Andrea:

1. Respond and rework. Answer the questions on your blog, replace one question you dislike with a question of your own invention; add a question of your own.

2. Tag eight other un-tagged people. Andrea didn't do this, and as she is my BestFriend and role model I am not going to do it either

What is your current obsession?
New book I have just started working on, having realised that completing old book would be kind of like spending 10 years making a sculpture out of Lego. No matter how awesome it is it is still on some level Not Really Art. Anyway this backfired because it turns out new book actually involves research and even though one of my extremely over-indulgent friends is doing most of the data monkey crap for me (he made graphs and everything - I may have to marry him) there is still research. I actually had to go to the library today. Seriously.

I am also obsessed with an $840 jacket from Andrea Moore. I was going to find a picture of it but then I got bored & realised that probably no-one would care anyway. Just imagine a full-length, fitted pirate's coat - long long cuffs, huge collar, those tuck things at the back. In charcoal. If anyone would like to give me $840 then by all means feel free - if it makes you feel better we can pretend it's for a child in Africa.


Do you nap a lot?

I am Sir Nap-a-lot. My mother and sister hate it, though, and wake me up whenever they catch me at it. My favourite place to nap, not that you asked, is on the floor with the dog. He is also a napper.


Who was the last person you hugged?
Charlie. Although actually he is a dog.


What's for dinner?
We have had dinner, and it was Toad in the Hole. Truly, the British have a talent for creating dishes that sound foul and look worse (see also: Spotted Dick) but which turn out to be nothing short of delicious. I cooked the Toad in the Hole (it is actually sausages in Yorkshire pudding, which is a sort of batter) and here is a photograph of it, which I made my mother take because I was so proud of myself. She said: "Please tell me you are not going to show that off on the Internet."

See? Looks nothing like actual toads, in hole or otherwise. Is clearly sausages.


What was the last thing you bought?
I...I'm not sure.


What are you listening to right now?
Damn! I hate that question but already used up my take-out-a-question on 'favourite coffee place.' Never mind. I'm just not going to answer it.


What is your favourite weather?
Really heavy storms. Obviously I am a tortured artist and NO - DON'T EVEN TRY TO UNDERSTAND ME - I AM GOING OUTSIDE NOW - TO WRITE - HAS ANYBODY SEEN MY CIGARETTES


What's on your bedside table?
Well, it's kind of a funny story - this one time I woke up at 3am and vomited half-digested Indian food out my window and stood on the bedside table in my urgency and now I no longer have a bedside table. But on the corner of my desk are the following things: phone shaped like a baby bok choi (not plugged in to anything but there regardless); a coffee plunger with grounds in the bottom; a coffee cup (empty); an iPod (mine); two pairs of eyelash curlers (hmm); various scribbled notes (the one on the top of the pile says 'I know you're a vampire but damn, put some pants on'); a Spanish dictionary; a small plastic statue of a Collie.

Say something to the person/s who tagged you.
I tagged myself and that is pretty much the first sign of madness so I think we'll skip that question too


If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you want it to be?
Good question. Probably somewhere in rural Spain. Why not, after all? They have wine and paella and good-looking men, and I speak more of that language than any other apart from English. Also they're tucked snugly up under the rest of Europe. Europe is Spain's blanky. And they have oranges.


Favourite vacation spot?
Any spot at which I do not have to vacation with other people and where there is a bar.


Name the things you can’t live without.
I presume they mean figuratively, although there is always some smartass who is all 'air and water nyuk nyuk nyuk.' Um...to be honest, I don't really know. Friends and family. Air and water. Nyuk nyuk nyuk.


What would you like to have in your hands right now?
A black AMEX that I never had to pay back. I realise that sounds a little materialistic, but...yeah OK it is. OH WELL


What is your favourite tea flavour?
I like many. English Breakfast is, you know, a classic. The (insert appropriate make of car here) of tea. Earl Grey with lemon is delicious; Earl Grey with Cointreau is super-delicious but people look at you weirdly when you say that (you know, that 'you're-an-alcoholic' look). Green tea with jasmine is nice; green tea without jasmine is nicer. Rooibos is nice, but only with soy milk; coconut rooibos is nice, but only without any milk at all. Kate drinks a tea called 'be happy.' "Are you happy?" I asked? "Well," she said, "I'm not unhappy."


What would you like to get rid of?
The long-dead rose which has been sitting droopily in a vase on my desk for literally weeks but which I haven't yet got around to throwing out. Actually, I'm going to do that now.


If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?
Either Wellington, or Vegas (via Denmark to pick up a passenger, because Vegas is no fun on your own and you can't even tell anyone about all the cool stuff that happened there because of that dumb rule). Also in this imaginary situation there would be lots of money and should Vegas turn out to be fun the hour could be extended indefinitely.


What did you want to become as a child?
I don't believe I was ever any more specific than 'awesome.'


What do you miss?
Oh, yeah, quiz, let's get all personal, shall we? I miss having a regular paycheck, and also some dead people. Not that I would like to have them back, unless they were alive. Or benign zombies. That would be OK.


What are you reading right now?
Where Underpants Come From, in which Joe Bennett answers that age-old question. (Not to spoil the ending, but it's China.) The book's very good, actually; would recommend. JB goes to China and has lots of adventures, most of but not all of which revolve around his underpants.


What do you fear the most?
Mediocrity.


What designer piece of clothing would you most like to own (new or vintage)?
Right now? That Andrea Moore pirate coat. But I'm pretty sure if I thought about it I would be able to come up with a better answer.


What is the coolest thing you saw today? (Question by me.)
Well, Ally, funny you should ask that! (Stop it! That's the first sign.) It is this wedding cake. It is from Pink Cake Box, and if I ever need a cake I am going to go and ask them. In fact when my research assistant and I get married Pink Cake Box is going to make my enormous, graph-shaped cake. (where y = affection and x = time)



Tomorrow: an action shot of me getting hit in the arse with a snowball.

EDIT: Shut up NT, Toad in the Hole is meant to look like that.

MORE EDIT: LOOK LOOK at my new clock it's over there --> and up a bit. If you don't get it well come on it's the guy from Prison Break. Prison Break. I wrote 4000 words today and yet I am more proud of constructing that pun than of any of those other words.

Monday, Monday

Well, our team came last in the pub quiz again. I maintain that we would have done better if we were drinking steadily throughout the evening, but then I say that about most activities.

Nothing exciting happened today - or did it?!

No. No, it didn't. Sorry, maybe tomorrow.

Bubble & Quiz

Am sitting with a nice cup of tea, trying to get some writing done. Had about three days of relative productivity this week, then Kristy sent me Bubble, and now I am even worse than I was before! Feel like sending Bubble to everyone in the world and watching civilization crumble in an obsessive bubble-popping epidemic. Will probably delete Bubble tomorrow during a moment of strength, then wonder how I ever survived without it, email Kristy, and get it back again. If nothing else, I will go to my grave an expert at shooting small coloured bubbles at each other.

Hey, for all I know, that might be the test to get into Heaven.

I keep flicking between screens to shoot a few more bubbles, and then remembering that I closed it in a fit of willpower about five minutes ago. Will undoubtedly have little bubbly dreams tonight.

I am getting a ridiculous amount of responses on Find Someone (Mental). Why is this? I know I joined it as a joke, but still...some of them look quite nice. Not as nice as DVD Boy, though. Although they may be over 18, which DVD Boy is probably not. I really must stop going to the video store all the time, he will begin to suspect something is up!

Have jumped on the badwagon (meant bandwagon, but badwagon slightly more apt) of going to pub quiz every Monday night with Mum, Kate, Aunt and Cousin. It's really weird being at a pub quiz and not getting pissed. The upside is that you tend to do better in the quiz, and there's little chance of The Cowboy Episode being repeated. The Cowboy Episode happened at a pub quiz some years ago - as part of a mid-quiz contest, I rode a friend around the room shouting cowboy things, much to the delight of the pub in general. We got a free jug of beer, which it's safe to say we didn't really need. Ah, those were the days. Well, those are the days I'll look fondly back on in my 70's. What a worrying thought.

Still no job, still no money, still no concern!