blogs are such a handy thing to have - so portable

Just popping these here so I can come and find them later :)

I had a quick scan of the first interview and it was quite good I thought.  The second one seemed like they were just taking bits and pieces from a media release.  Haven't even looked at the rest yet.

http://www.messandnoise.com/news/4318049

http://www.bmamag.com/articles/features/20110829-glenn-richards/

http://abcdigmusic.net.au/news/augie-marching-back

http://www.theaureview.com/interviews/the-au-audio-interview-glenn-richards-australia

Yo

As a joke present, I bought a family member a book about cat painting.  Not painting cats, which is another book, but a book about cats painting.  It outlined a number of ways that you could test to see if your cat was artistic.

One of the ways to test if your cat was artistic was to place said feline in a relatively empty room with a few different coloured cushions to see which one they choose to sit on.  If they picked a compliementry colour they weren't terribly artistic, but if they picked a contrasting colour you were in and could start mixing a little bit of their urine or armonia (sp?) with some paint to see what would happen.

I like to think that Wooliff's dedication to sleeping, sitting, curling up on any strewn Augie March shoulder bag is because they are black (as is he) and not because his owner is an Augie March nut.

Twelve days until I get to hear Glenn Richards do his thing at the Old Museum in Brisbane and I've yet to book a place to stay nearby cause I don't got no money.

Galling that the lady at work that I offered to stay for two extra weeks because the first ladies declined their offer of employment and we had to advertise for resumes, doesn't remember that I did so and thought I was finishing this week and sent a lovely email ...

And I think my tendence towards marytrdom is due to my catholic upbringing and guilt that I didn't become a teaching nun like previous generations, but I never was religious and I never liked kneeling (and couldn't for the life of me understand booze tinged irish accents at that age - I was only ten but - probably it takes practice, ey?).

Friday Afternoon *beep beep beep* leave a message after the tone

I had to give up trying to work at about 3ish
my brain refused to function
I kept making stoopid little mistakes
instead I paced
back and forth
pressed my nose to the tinted glass door
drew a picture of a fly passing through one of my ears and out the other on the whiteboard
told the boss I had to stop
he said 'fair enough'

and now I am going to have a beer with the men
and listen to them say fuck every second word
in a non agressive normal chit-chatty australian kind of way

I have been amusing myself

An email advising it was our last chance to submit articles for the company magazine, in combination with my imminent departure, resulted in a wander through past poetic efforts and I sent some off to the lady - though I don't expect them to print my ode to my knickers.  I sat in my chair cackling to myself at my own funny imagining her face.  She sent back a "brillant, thank you", which can only be a piss-take of the highest water. 

I had far too much fun reading my own poems. 
 
These were two I liked too much today - I didn't send them to the work magazine.  She would have thought me a complete nut then - lol

Boney

Playing

And the minotaur ones.  They amused me no end.  Lame but, ey?

He spewed cud into his mouth and chewed

strutted up to me on alligator appliquéd hooves

How yoou doing? Don't think I've seen you round before.

Whats say we find somewhere private and you can get to know The Minotaur?

and he hitched his belt buckle with an unnecessary twitch of muscles in his too tight shirt buttoned only half way up his chest.

No wonder he had to get that greek king to pimp for him by chucking girls into the Labyrinth.

Monday

Well ... my beautiful smart delightful 15 year old niece, who has been suffering a mystery illness for the last couple of months had an endoscopy (sp?) the other day and it turns out she has some kind of spotty rash on the inside of her stomach.
Is that not the most awesome thing you have ever heard off?
By golly.
A spotty tummy.

19 days to go ... and counting

I wish my nose would stop bleeding
It's not proper bleeding
It's more just bloody snot
It happens in cold weather
and when I'm stressed
Probably twenty years of taking NSAIDS contributes a bit, ey?

groan

Who knew one could have too much bacon?
I am going back to bed now.

hahahahahahaahah

oh. my.god. simon.

THAT IS SOOO COOL!

I am trying to figure out how to smuggle one of my cats into work now.

A pet story with a happy ending

Once upon a time a pretty calico kitten was given to a family as a birthday present for their little girl.  She was excited have her very own owners and a little girl to love and she purred and played and was as cute as she could be so her new owners love her.

Little did the innocent little calico kitten know, but the little girls parents didn't like pets.  They did not teach their little girl not to pull her tail, but laughed instead when she hurt the little calico kitten.  If the little kitten, in her pain and bewilderment, hissed or in any other way did not submit to this rough treatment the mean parents would strike her and punish her.

A lowly servant of the mean parents would be kind to her and give her pats and protest when the mean father said things like "animals don't feel pain" when they were inflicting full force smacks to the poor little calico kittens soft and tender nose.  Or laughing that he thought he had seen some blood come from her eye when he had 'accidently' shut her head in a door.

The little calico kitten took to sculking and hidding.  She was so scared she didn't want to walk across the room when the mean parents were present to go outside to answer the call of nature.  She crossed her legs and squirmed and held, but finally found a safe, discrete sandy spot where she could take a dump under cover of fake jungle-like leaves.

One day the mean father discovered her falsely verdant toilet and was very angry.  He yelled at the little calico kitten.  He hit her.  He grabbed her up and shook her.  He threw her across the room into a wall.  The poor little calico kitten was very afraid and shivered in terror at the anger of the mean man and ran and ran and ran, but there was no where the poor little calico kitten could hide where the mean man could not find her.

The man grabbed her up and took her outside to where an old dog house was sitting on a cement slab.  He tied the scared little calico kitten to the little house with a short piece of rope.  The poor little calico kitten could not even reach the grass. 

There she sat, bound to her prison in the full glare of the cruel summer sun for days and days and days, or at least two weeks.  The lowly servant girl would visit her and be kind to her, but was not allowed to untie the poor little calico kitten.

The lowly servant girl pleaded for the little calico kitten.  She said to the mean man you don't want the kitten, let me take her home.  Perhaps the mean man felt bad for what he had done.  Or perhaps he just didn't want have to feed the little calico kitten anymore.  The mean man said yes you may take the cat.

So even though the mother of the lowly servant girl had told her daughter "don't bring anymore animals home" she rang the mother and said bring the car around, we have a new pet.

The little calico kitten found it very strange in her new home.  People wanted to pat her.  They wanted her to sit on next to them on the couch.  They did not yell at her or hit her.  She was allowed to come and go as she liked.  Even when the little kitten had a few accidents in strange places and earned the nickname "The Shittin' Kitten' she was still treated nicely and even given little treats in the kitchen when the mother of the servant girl was cooking.

Though she became quite plush and portly in her age, she never quite got over her time of trouble and confinment and in one notable incident went missing for an extended period of time only to be found holed up in a drawer.

A happy pet story

Once upon there was a stray white and tabby cat. This tabby cat meowed for two weeks at the window a house until one of the people inside the house took him in and fed him.  It had a great big abcess on it's head and the people in the house took him to the vet and put anticeptic on the great gapping wound twice a day until he was better.

This cat decided to stay with the people and their two cats, even though one of the cats was quite naughty and would leap out from underneath furniture at it at odd unsuspecting moments and even though he was much bigger than the naughty cat he never thumped the living daylights out of her like wot she deserved.

The no longer stray white and tabby cat was allowed to sleep on the bed when ever he wanted too.  When the other two cats complained at sharing the space, because it was only a single bed, the person told the other two cats to shush up and not be so mean.

The white and tabby cat was given a collar and a name tag and fed twice a day and slept in the sun by the window in the mornings and when one of the people came home from work he would jump up on her lap and be petted and purr and purr and purr.

The End

but .. but ... where did it go?

And what did I do,
with my weekend of liberty?
but lay slugabug in bed with book and computer
Misusing myself and my time ineffectually
when really I wanted to be in the sun
Playing with my niece or maybe gardening
But it took sooo long to save up for the elven sword
and I had to earn another couple of strength points
so I could pick the darn thing up
I yearned for the 'special' one at the gamblers shop
but couldn't afford it
he kept putting the price up as soon as I'd met the old one
so I bought the ordinary old one and had it ensorcialled
with sockets
though one doesn't get to choose
one has to get lucky to get sockets
and by then it was 7:30 sunday night and I was feeling a bit peckish

I think my arse has grown two sizes in two days
Maybe I should have been shopping for a virtual caftan
instead of a virttual elven sword

Playing with fire

Forget my own head if it were not screwed on

Aha!  I was going to fess that since I have committed to an extra fornight, I have decided I need a special present for my fortitude and have bought flights to Brisbane to see the ever so wonderful Glenn Richards and Dan Luscombe and Mike Noga *sigh* I shall say his name again, Mike Noga, play at The Old Museum on Saturday 10 September.

I just have to hope that I can pay 8 weeks ahead of my rent and be ultra frugal so that I can also pay for some sort of accommodation instead of having to wander the street after till the early hours when perhaps I could find a quiet corner of the casino to snooze in until it is time to fly home.

I have no self control.
Obviously.
But darn, they are all so pretty and lovely and talented.
How can one resist?

If I won lotto I would finance recordings for them all for like totally ages.  Yet more reason why other people should write to Golden Casket to plead my case.

And now that I think of it ... what the hell is Dan Kelly doing?  Has he got a new recording out yet?  Fcukign pull your finger out dan.

Lecture Mode

Okay, so.  Unless you are selling something you probably shouldn't have your 'whole name' on your internet id.  You MOST CERTAINLY SHOULDN'T have your actual name on your internet id.  Come up with some kind of alias before you get any older!!!!!

End of Lecture
Auntily duties closed

*thoughtful silence*

damned if I can remember what the heck I was going to waffle about now

One of the reasons I wish I were a hermit

A person I work with is talking about, and probably would/will, killing their neighbours cat that is taking a dump in his backyard.

This is Townsville folks.  This is the place where men are happy to kill other peoples pets and put their corpses in the wheelie bin, if they stray too close to their yard.

Why can't they just piss all round the perimeter of the yard like wot animals do?

Their mother-in-law suggested they leave out some milk with an aspirin dissolved in it.

How lovely.

I AM ON LINE!!!!

It has been a very long time since I've had internet at home.

The last time I was connected I was obsessing, hopefully in a relatively good and harmless way, about my favourite band and searching anything I could about them.  I would run a google search everyday, just to make sure I didn't miss out on any articles or hints of tour dates or pictures, etc.

This came to a crashing halt the evening I tried repeatedly to feed a virgin pre-paid voucher into my telstra mobile broadband device.  I was steamed.  Could not work out why it wasn't working.  It was two days after I was locked out that I realised what I had done wrong.

Didn't I feel like a dill, ey?

But I am out of practice and this is somewhat forced upon me by my soon to be unemployed state, though not as soon as it was previously because as they are now going to solicite resumes via advertisement I have offerred to stay another two weeks to allow time for this and with the hope that I will at least get a week to train my replacement, since nobody else at my workplace actually knows how I do what I do.  Not that I am sure they couldn't come up with a work around to train them if required, but I would feel bad.

So now after nearly two years of merely eating working sleeping I shall have to attempt to be an interesting person again, if I were before - which probably I wasn't.  Christ I hope that happens quickly, because I am beyond bored with myself.  I haven't wanted to be alone with myself and have consequently either been drinking too much or compulsively playing stoopid computer games until the small hours of the morning.

And now?  I struggle with the urge to fly to Brisbane to go see Glenn Richards, Dan Luscombe and Mike Noga at the Old Museum on Saturday, 10 September.  I wanna. I wanna.  I wanna.

*stamps foot emphatically* 

( though probably in a slightly illiterate way cause I have never been able to spell proper no matter wot my english teacher thought I should cause I read so much)

To look forward to there will be late night drunken posts, probably not terrible good photographs, some sincerely aweful poetry and half arsed craft attempts.

And pictures of cats.

This is the Wooliff-cat, whose official name is cobweb after one of the attendant fairies in a midsumers nights dream

Good gosh - it's only 7:30 pm?

I have fed my fleshy face and thus replete I sit rocking slightly back and forth in my brother-in-laws computer chair - which is just that little bit to willing to tilt backwards than is comfortable.  I catch sight of myself in the door of their mirrored wardrobe and I remind myself of those oblong dolls wot are advertised as impossible to knock over and thus invite abuse ... for the sake of science, of course.

I behaved a bit more like my normal self this afternoon at work.

Well ... normal from a year or two back when I was feeling quite happy and content with my world.
My co-worker, after reading an email I had sent, said the other recipients would be wondering what drugs I was on.

I managed to seque from work to Frankie Howard in one sentence and write 'dooooooooooooooooooom doooooooooom doooooooooooom'.

Of the three people interviewed, two were consecutively offerred my job.
Both declined.

It's a funny old world.

I am not going into work next weekend.  I am going to pick up at home and paint a picture on a t-shirt for my unwell niece.  One of my tempermental cats has been peeing in neglected corners and forgotten piles of stuff.  Have found where that nasty smell in the lounge room has been coming from.  Hold serious concerns for under my bed.  Shall worm the little basket-cases in revenge! mwahahahahahahahahaha

This is my weekend

So ... I have two computers I work on.  One is our companies the other is a clients. 

It should be simple to run a report from our database with times worked on a job and fill it in onto the clients.  Sadly it is not. 

There were some new things we haven't billed before which the person entering the times and equipment didn't understand what should and should not be included and then we had a temp working at the office checking to see if that matched the timesheets and then filling it in on the clients database for us because we were somewhat behind and they said it would make my life easier. 

So now I am going back over our database and comparing times to the timesheets and correcting our database and then going back over the clients database to see what was entered and correcting that. 

To complicate matters I can't delete anything from the clients database and can only enter 13 records of time at a time, the total hours of which then have to equal a line on a different tab and than save that and start the next 13. 

What makes this time especially tricky is that what was entered on the first record should have been broken down into normal time, time and a half and double time.  So I have to change the line on the first record of 3.  Make sure the total hours worked for that record equal the line on the other tab and then find space on the third record to enter the time and a half and double time and then update the total hours worked on the line on the other tab for that record and then since there are a few of these but not all of them, I have to save that record, just to be on the safe side and then I have to go back through the three tiered classification system to bring that record up again to do the next one I may come across, because if I try to just edit a second time the whole database comes up with a run time error and shutsdown.

Six hours yesterday and I am having trouble making myself start today.

I am looking at it and it's like my brain is saying 'why don't you just go squat on a piece of land in the middle of nowhere and grow your own food instead.  you could have chickens.  and goats.  goats would be cool.  you know you want a goat.' 

One Hour Later

ARGH
and of course we have both subcontractors and employees working, who work different hours at normal time and of course the ones who normally only work 8 hour days have been working 10 hours days with overtime being billable but the person entering the timesheets didn't realise and I have already completed three weeks of this and only just noticed they don't have their overtime entered for their 10 hour days during the week - bugger bugger bugger

Thoughtful

hummmmm ... so ... I've resigned my job with a very narrow financial comfort zone -  I would go so far as to say with no zone - and I am still trying to think of some way of coming up with around $400 to fly to Brisbane to go hear Glenn Richards accompanied by the delightful and talented Dan Luscombe and supported by the equally talented and delightful Mike Noga - sigh

If I go down for a week and visit my mum I could get flights for under $250, but that is a long time for my sister to feed my cats and scoop their poop.  It is $250 I shouldn't spend and certainly it will cost me more than that for food and trains etc.  Plus there would be the hotel for the night of the gig cause the trains will have stopped by the time it is finished.

I really need to get my scooter serviced.

damn damn damn damn damn and blast