Distant Memory

Isn't shagging fun!??

Updated:Blood and Violence

Regulars to my blog have noted that a pair spent a very long time posting back and forth last night.
This is just fine by me.
Bring it on I say.
I will address a few of the things they mentioned.
The Island of Dr Moreau is from the HG Wells story The Island of Lost Souls.
I do not care for Nicole Kidman especially. I don't think she's an especially talented actress, nor do I think she is especially beautiful.
If anything she looks scary, what with those angry eyebrows of hers.
Perhaps after a few hearty meals she may begin to look at little better.

Red Hot Jism

I was rather taken aback yesterday when a few of the visitors to my blog suggested that my images were cute and made people feel good.
This is something that I found a little perplexing.
Consequently I've created a series of slightly distasteful images in the hope of combating this perception.
The first in the series is of a boss who has forced the errand boy to give him a blowie.
At the moment of ejaculation, the bosses wife has walked in.
Whoops!

Monkey shirt

This is my newest t-shirt design.
It will be printed on yellow.

BRIEFLY UPDATED: Duh na na naaa nah

Last night I went and saw the new Batman Movie, Batman Begins.
It was pretty good.
I won't go into all the geeky details.
I will say however that the extremely beautiful Irish lad who played The Scarecrow seemed to be channeling James Spader.
Update: Further to that, has anyone noticed that the older he gets, the more like Michael Palin Liam Neeson seems to resemble.

A stick, an owl and a rolling pin

I have an old friend coming to visit me.
This is terribly exciting.
I'm mostly posting this so she knows I'm pleased.

Baby, baby, baby

I'll add some thoughts to this image later today.

Rejection

Strollin'

I like to post thumbnails rather than the full sized image.
I have this extremely self absorbed notion that each and every visitor will click on each image to see the enlarged glorious version in all it's detail.
I am quite sure I'm the only one who does.
What vanity...

Nice!

I have read that the sloth is the slowest beast in the world.
I love them.
I believe they are also one of the dirtiest animals in the world.
They have mould growing in their fur which gives them a green tinge.
They swim quite well.
Today, out of the blue, and old friend called me.
A delightful girl I very much fancied when I was at uni with her.
Very beautiful and a wonderful painter.
So that was all very jolly.
If she happens to visit this blog, here is a poem for her that should hopefully bring back a few memories.
"Gthnigg hath wenddt thankgnthng.
Thrusgnthmn hythememnem.
Acchcccccccchhh gthnyd thynowly.
Heeenn eth thnyninnyth".

Re-repeating, eating, ting, ng, g

There was a very silly sitcom called Father Ted.
It was extremely funny and ended, I assume, only because the fellow who played Father Ted died.
I was looking the show up on the IMBD and found a snippet of dialogue from the show.
As I've been rattling on about doomed creatures and monsters and whatnot, I thought it appropriate that I include this description of a beastie from the show.
The comment was made by the character Father Dougal, who is remarkable and endlessly stupid.
"They say it's as big as four cats, and it's got a retractable leg so as it can leap up at you better and you know what Ted, it lights up at night, and it's got four ears. Two of them are for listening and the other two are kind of back-up ears, and it's claws are as big as cups and for some reason it's got a tremendous fear of stamps and Mrs. Doyle was tellin' me that it's got magnets on it's tail so as if you're made out of metal it can attach itself to you, and instead of a mouth it's got four arses. "

Repeating, repeating, repeating

I often find that I am recycling the same images, slightly repackaged.
I often draw characters about to be done away with.
Usually small characters about to be menaced by larger ones.
I don't usually question what I draw or why, but this is a recurring theme in my work.
I have to admit I find the mix of realisation and horror these characters have on their faces is something that greatly amuses me.
Another thing I like to draw very much but has never made an appearance on my blob is machines and factorys.
The factory will almost always be on a hill and almost always be belching smoke and fumes.
I'm having a little trouble drawing at the moment because the stylus on my Wacom Tablet is sticking.
I made some enquiries yesterday into getting a new one and I've discovered that will cost me $126 (AU).
$126 for a pen.
Can you fucking imagine?
After a little bit of violence and an almost fatal exploration of the inner workings of the pen I seem to have fixed the problem for now.
It's nearly tax time so perhaps I could afford a whole new Wacom.
Also frustrating is the fact that the CD player on this PC has died.
I have music on almost all the time and it's bloody frustrating not to have it.
I have an external burner which will play them, but it will play them accompanied by the rattling whine that comes with a dodgy fan.
Fear the technology...it's coming to get us.

Charging Through the Jungle

I had an idiotic arguement with my mother last night.
It's the sort of stupid, stupid arguement I have with her from time to time and it really does rile me.
Very basically, during a conversation about taking a holiday overseas, she mentioned that she would like me to go to the UK to visit her relatives.
Now then.
Apart from the fact that I have no interest whatsoever in visiting the UK, I have even less interest in visiting a bunch of relatives who I have never met, have never heard of, have no connection to and more the point, absolutely no interest in.
I certainly don't wish these people any harm, but I couldn't care less about them.
I'm vaguely pleased that my mother is pleased to introduce her son to people, but for goodness sake.
If I'm going to go on holidays to some distant land, I'm going to go there to drink and eat fancy food and shag attractive foreigners, not sit sipping tea with strangers talking about the state of the weather and how my mother was this, that and the other as a kid.

Standing on the Edge Of the World

I have a very dear friend whose baby will be emerging into the world sometime in the next few weeks.
We are pretty good pals - I tend to see her socially more than anyone else.
We have an easy friendship and have survived one or two ugly moments with no repercussions.
She said one of the nicest, and perhaps strangest things anyone has ever said to me this weekend.
She told me that if I were a woman, she would have asked me to be her birth partner.
Strange sexual discrimination perhaps?
Not really - my dear friend is a private and it's something I well understand.
It is certainly not the first time my genitals have let me down however.
I'm not going to tell any stories about failed shags and whatnot.
I think most men have been there and my basic attitude is to admit defeat if nothing's going to happen and look for something else to do (not Scrabble or Ludo, but something else saucy).
It was actually pretty pleasing that I was thought about as having a gender.
I usually feel totally sexless when I'm dealing with the women in my life.
So that was a nice thing.
The conversation we had inspired an amusing poem that I sent her this morning.
I'll not post it here as it's for her.

Down Among the Small Things

Much Fury And Anger

Tasmania is a wonderful island state, as I've waffled on about several times before.
One thing Tasmania is not very good at is their health care system.
I recently discovered that there's a GP very near my work, much more convenient than where I usually go.
I called them up and not for the first time in Tassie I was told "We're not taking on any new patients".
Now then.
Perhaps I simply have an over inflated sense of justice but does that strike anyone else as disgraceful?
"We've got enough sick people thank you" is what they seem to be saying to me.
"We done our daily 9 to 5 treating you infectious lowlives, we're not doing it beyond those hours".
I told the receptionst it was disgraceful.
So I made an appointment at my usual doctors and they told me they couldn't fit me in until Monday.
I swore and walked out.
I have found a new place to go to and they were happy to fit me in this afternoon.
This whole shenanigans has made me extremely cranky.

I Said Fuck!

I've just gotten in trouble for swearing too loudly in the office (I said "Fuck").
The general manager is visiting for the day and apparently heard me.
No big deal has been made of it but I'm resisting not saying it again even louder, just for fun.
It is true that I sometimes have a bloody foul mouth, and let's face it, I really do enjoy swearing.

Big Red Sexy Bottoms

I live in the city of Launceston.
A lovely place.
Launceston has a sister city - a town in Japan the name of which I do not know.
Several years ago the two towns joined together for an exciting cultural exchange.
Japan gave to the city of Launceston a family of monkies, which were housed in a jolly enclosure in a place called City Park.
And to Japan, the citizens of Launceston gave some sheep.
Yes.
Some sheep.
I've never been to Japan, not have I ever had any Japanese friends, so I'd have to make an assumption that somehow a sheep in an interesting and exotic animal.
I wouldn't have thought so.
And as mundane an animal as someone might think a monkey is, they are heaps more interesting than a sheep.
It's like trading the Loch Ness Monster for a budgerigar.
I'm not sure if anything else was sent over - perhaps some wombats or a Tassie devil or something - I don't know.
But I think we got the better deal.
In recent years these poor monkies have all been infected with hepititis C.
I think they can only catch this from people, so fuck knows what's been going on behind closed doors.
They had to make a decision - do we put the poor monkies down, or do we build them a jolly great new enclosure to live out the rest of their days in.
The opted for the renovations and spared the lives of the monkies, which the citizens of Launceston, and the primated themselves are all thankful for.

Misery's The River of the World

There is a certain type of gritty, dramatic film that I never deal with very well.
The films of Ken Loach and certain drug movies I often find unbearable to watch.
The story arc starts near the bottom, and moves progressively downwards.
I tend to avoid seeing them at the cinema, and have found that I usually have to do the DVD in a a couple of sittings.
Nil By Mouth, Requeim For A Dream (the more depressing film I can think of), Ladybird Ladybird are all examples of these types of films.
In these films there is usually a moment where in all the awfulness there seems to be one ray of light.
This ray of light is inevitably squashed and killed.
The reason I mention these films is because last night I watched a nice family chucklefest from New Zealand called Once Were Warriors.
It's a movie I've been avoiding for year and it was every bit as depressing as I thought it would be.
I recommend it highly but perhaps you'll only need to watch it once.
Drunkeness, wife bashing, suicide: it's all there.

An Orgy of Silence

I have nothing to say just now.

Right.
This is a few hours later and I've finally got something to say.
Last night, out of the blue, I smsed a friend of mine to tell him that I had recently shagged a lovely little blonde girl who had also shagged him.
I told him that she said he was fantastic in bed, and particularly enjoyed some bum loving he had provided.
All of this is completely untrue.
I sent it as an amusement to myself and am pleased to say that even though he had no idea who I was talking about (which makes sense because she's imaginary, like all the women in my sex life) he was really chuffed to have provided a pleasing sensual experience to a nice girl.
He is clearly unsure if I've made the whole thing up, but is prepared to be seen as a sexy beast nonetheless.
I recommend that each person reading this tells someone who deserves to hear it that they met someone who said they were a catherine wheel in the bedroom.
It doesn't need to be true - just tell them and they will feel lovely about things.

Evil Emu

I work with a delightful girl called Vanessa who has a fear of birds.
I was curious to know if she, if faced with a chicken dinner, was frightened of that also.
It would appear not, which I was a little dissapointed to hear.

Some Caricatures Big Brother 05 Australia

I love Big Brother.
I have no problems admitting it, even though many others hate it.
My good friend and hugely talented illustrator Renee S sent me a fantastic caricature of one of the Big Brother housemates she'd done, which inspired me to do a handful of my own.
They are from left to right, Michael, Christie and Tim

Rat Faced Man

Many years ago I was on the bus coming home from bus from Sandringham station.
Sitting in front of me was a middle aged man with a long pointy nose, big flappy ear and a huge pair of buck teeth.
He was listening to a walkman and singing "Jump", by The Pointer Sisters (or was it Diana Ross?).
Anyway.
He was singing it in that kind of mumbo jumbo way you sing when you don't know the words.
He did know the words "jump" though, so his singing would go: "Mmmfm lunfnn mmeme JUMPING!!!!" etc.
This drawing doens't really look much like him but as I drew it I was reminded of him.

Technology Wins Again

Late last year a friend and I were driving back from Devonport and I started using this silly old man voice.
My friend found this to be exceedingly funny, so over the weeks, we built up a bit of a persona for him, gave him some history and a name and all that jazz.
At my old place of work I had the opportunity to record short monologues onto cassette tape and I'd give them to her to listen to in the car.
Now that I started a new job, I don't have the opportunity to record these moments, so I began to look for old style tape decks that had a microphone jack.
I've been looking for a working one for almost 9 months now.
I have scoured the op shops.
Asked friends.
Visited the eco-salve.
I've had three near hits.
The first tape deck I bought for $6 from St Vinnies and the mike jack didn't work.
Then I found this old thing at the office and it seemed fine until I pressed the record button, the button itself fell into the machine and that was the end of that.
Then, at last, my dear friends Carrie and Nick had one but that was ca-cah too.
So in the end I wrote a letter.

Sexy Erotic Dark Skinned Girl Sits on Something Strange and Says Strange Erotic Thing About her Breasts

I went out for some time with a lovely, but completely messy girl.
After breaking up with her over a year and a half ago, I've finally managed to end what was a very difficult friendship.
But she seems to be back.
The image I've included has nothing to do with this loopy ex of mine, but I've discovered I get a good amount of traffic through the site if the titles of my post have some sort of sexual overtone.
God bless the internet.