30 December 2006

Caught the train home from Hawthorn station last night so i think that was the Lilydale line... and it was a bit of an eye-opener, ya know. There were millions and millions of teenagers. Delinquent, teenaged, little fuckers. I dunno if they were all from the same school or what, but there were over a hundred of them on this train headed into the city for an underage night somewhere or something.

Anyway, i have never seen anything like it... As we all know, i grew up in various suburbs along the Frankston line, so i've seen/been my fair share of filthy public... but this was unreal. There were children, about 15 or so, hanging from the roof of the train, smoking on the train, letting off those fire cracker things you see at the soccer on the train. Not to mention mouthing off something shocking... This one woman asked one of the boys who was yelling at another person at the other end of the carriage "you're a muthafuckingpussy, you're a muthafuckingpussy" etc.. to mind his language. She was met with a finger in her face, "YOU'RE a muthafuckingpussy!"

They were gross. So the train driver kicked everyone off at Richmond, which would have really pissed me off if i wasn't getting off there in any case. Anyway i thought one of the little fuckers was going to get hit by a train as they all jumped off the platform and ran across in front of a train onto the tracks. Even the girls who looked like (only just) overgrown Bratz Dolls and sweet jesus, i'll admit that i have a potty mouth, but i have NOTHING on these girls. It was scary thinking of the trouble these kids could find themselves in.

So we're all at the station now, and they start letting off those cracker things again, then they pick a fight with a couple of smackies and i see this one little bastard tear past me wearing his oh-so-fashinable bandana across his face. Sadly he looked less like a cowboy, and more like a little terrorist waiting to happen.

It was kind of interesting, in that i didn't necessarily feel threatened as such by these children, but more scared about the trouble they would more than likely find themselves in that night. Boys pumped with red bull and testosterone and these girls just waiting to be abused in one way or another. And where exactly do these parents think their children are? Wouldn't you just die if you saw your kid on the news, beating up a smackie, after being filmed on the CCTV.

It was unreal. I felt like i wasn't in Melbourne and in some war-zone somewhere. That's how out of control these shit-bags were. Anyway, we got off at (lovely, clean, civilised) Cheltenham, where there are always teenagers just hanging out and this group of about 20 of them hopped off in front of us... i said i my friend, look at our teenagers down here... walking along in an orderly fashion, no pushing, swearing, fighting. Isn't it nice living in the South Eastern suburbs instead of those ungodly (evidentally) Eastern suburbs... it's not a cesspit down here afterall.

Anyway... i'm off to Sorrento for the weekend where i'm sure i wont find any more groups of marauding teenagers. Choke. Happy NY, yo.

done by Mars

24 December 2006

Thus Bakes* Zarathustra Mars

One sure fire way to make Chrimbo with the fam as painless as possible, is to kill them all with heart attacks. That's my plan, and if things go really well, i'll probably die of one too.

Rum balls. Not completely deadly... but a real pain in the jaxie to make, so they'd better be appreciated. Not recommended for consumption by children, quite rummy balls.

And also...

Step One! We can have lots of fun...

Step Two! There's so much we can do...

Step Three! It's just you and me...

Step Four! I can give you more...

Well, i can't give you any more, being as this creation didn't actually take any more steps than said three.

Step Five! Don't you know the time has arrived...

That's right kids, only one more sleep until the day we've been waiting for (in a car crash sort of a way) is once again upon us. Sure... we all want the presents, BUT AT WHAT COST?! My family is a pain in the clacker, and i can't wait until it's all over tomorrow and i can sit back with a bottle glass of wine and know that there's another whole year until i have to do that again.

So anyway, if your nana's cooking using pure LARD doesn't kill you, this slice of heaven sure as hell will... at the very least, it'll put you into a diabetic coma without too much trouble.

*aware that none of this actually constitutes baking, technically, but more... preparation, or something.

done by Mars

23 December 2006

these are mine! ahahahaha!!

they have a four and a quarter INCH heel!! they are insane.
they take me from a boring 5 foot 7 inches, to a giant 5 foot 11 inches.
i see the world from a whole new point of view, i see the world how Mars sees the world.

i love them and they make me love me.

done by Dot

22 December 2006

oh my dog, and then, i met kiki off the internet.... and he was so SO SO SOSO nice and totally awesome (and other similar adjectives) and i challenged him to a jager-bomb and he almost swallowed the glass wooping my shameless asss.... but i did okay for a girl. and i hate that preface, but when someone has no gag reflex, it seems and unfair advantage, so i lost, but i'm happy with my performance, and also, my spelling and grammar on this post.

goodnight team.

Done by Mars

20 December 2006

11 Spring Street - II

i walked over to 11 Spring Street today during my lunch break.
the people are gone, the hype is gone... and honestly, it looks like a big pile of vomit. there's rubbish all over the sidewalk, so many layers of paint have been thrown on the walls all images are indistinguishable, and it smells funny. okay, no smell. but crap all the same.

and the lesson i've learnt?
while street art might be driven by ideas of activism and subversion it is still validated by the response it elicits. maybe even more so than art that hangs in an art gallery. because street art is public and exposed, not mediated by curators, wall text, catalogues etc. and so when i saw 11 Spring Street today my gut reaction was 'ergh'. because it looks 'ergh', no more, no less. and there's nothing, no institutions, to sell it otherwise.

i love curators.

here is my tribute to the ephemeral nature of street art (and also my first ever youtube link):

don't watch it all, it's kind of boring...

done by Dot

18 December 2006

11 Spring Street

heaps of pictures can be seen here.

the story is told here.

and the New York Times puts the event into this monumental perspective:
"It was as if someone had told devotees of Picasso’s “Demoiselles d’Avignon” or Matisse’s “Dance” that the Museum of Modern Art had changed hands and would soon be shut down for residential redevelopment, with all the art inside to vanish as part of the deal."

basically the building at 11 Spring Street ("the most famous canvases and lodestars in the world for urban artists") has been sold and is going to be redeveloped. as a last hoorah the Wooster Collective has organised an exhibition with 45 of the hottest/hippest/dankest/darkest street artists from around the world, who have created new works within and without the building. the 'exhibition' runs for THREE DAYS ONLY and then the developers move in.

and i wanted to go!
and i went!
and the queue to get in stretched all the way around the block and was going to be a THREE HOUR wait to get in.

and i couldn't be bothered waiting and so i came home!

i can't quite work out whether i've made a terrible mistake or not.
i love art, i like street art (Melbourne is the stencil art capital of the world!)... but i'm no hipster and there seems something really ironic about having to queue for three hours to see STREET ART.
and anyway, 11 Spring Street is over? surely, if i wanted to wittness 'history in the making' i should have gone and had a look at the building earlier, like, three, ten or twenty-years ago?

pfft. do you ever get the feeling you missed the boat?

the queue that i was too impatiant to join...

done by Dot

17 December 2006

My blog is worth $15,242.58.
How much is your blog worth?

Err.. so, how do i sell? And am i expected to split said profits with Dot, considering i do all the work around here? Surely not. Sign me up, baby!

Incidentally, i'm over my sook now. Had a pretty nice weekend even though we were EXCLUDED from the biggest blogger meet-up since those conventions they have sometimes for the pros. Pack of snobs.

Ooh, and last night, i saw Katie-from-BB06 in the city. She totally tried to get in front of me while i was waiting for a taxi and i said "Katie, you can't just push in front of people like that"....
"Huuuuughhughughugh..." she crooned in my direction
"I knew that was you" says i, very matter of fact.
That was before i yelled down the street to my friends... "HAY! GUYS! it's Katie-from-B ig-Brother... right HERE *points in her face*"
The reply came from one of them... "What are you talking to her for? Stop talking to her! Stop yelling that out. Why do you even know what she looks like?"
And then, this taxi wizzed past me before slamming on the brakes about 3 milimetres from my nose, the door flew open and someone yelled at me to "get the fuck in the taxi!' and yanked me into the car.
i vaguely remember hanging out the taxi window yelling out goodbye to Katie-off-Big-Brother and that i never thought Jamie was good looking anyway, before they told me, again, to stop talking to her or they'd chuck me out of the car.
And then i passed out.

Done by Mars

15 December 2006

I'm about to have a sad.

My life is completely unfulfilling.

Work sucks, i've just spent all afternoon packing up my shit cause my team is moving into a new office, away from all the people i like working with.

It's Friday night, and i'm sitting home moaning, on the internet. I always go out of Friday night, and i feel ripped off at the fact that it's almost 7pm and i'm not pissed.

My friends are lazy losers/breeders/have plans. All of them.

I'm sick of couples. Especially at Christmas. If i hear one more person refer to someone as their boyfriend/girlfriend/other half/fiance/missus etc. i'll crack.

Where the hell is Dot when you need her?

I had pizza for lunch, that didn't make me feel better.

I had a bowl of ice-cream when i got home, that hasn't helped either.

Last night i spent about a million bucks at Chadstone buying Christmas presents for myself, which also hasn't helped.

I've had several cigarettes... useless.

My usual fixes for this state of mind have let me down; booze, fags, food, shopping.

What the hell am i supposed to do now?

(PS hi dave)

Done by Mars

11 December 2006

second celebrity sighting!

i saw this badass getting out of a limo on 5th Avenue.
his car was escorted by four black SUVs which blocked off the street while these commando guys with MACHINE GUNS patrolled the road.
it was a quiet Friday night on the Upper East Side so i think i was the only civilian to witness the spectacle. a woman in a black suit and a radio ear-piece told me to "just wait a minute" while Mr Important made the dangerous open-air walk from his car, across the sidewalk, and into the Neue Museum.
of course at the time i didn't recognise him, but guessed from the overkill security he might be Israeli. yes, turns out it is former prime minister of Israel, Nobel Peace prize winner and senior statesman Simon Peres.
he looked so small and scared.

Done by Dot

09 December 2006

Well, Victoria's burning down. I took this photo this morning while sitting of the steps of Spencer Street station (yeah, Spencer street, bitches) before doing the Walk of Shame. Haven't done that for years but it was my work Christmas party last night, i suppose it's to be expected.

Meanwhile, the engagement party i was talking about is on tonight... i'm still feeling rough as guts and it's started an hour ago. Blugh.

Done by Mars

05 December 2006

This chick wanted to bash me on Friday night.

Can't imagine why. Well... i can. It's because i have no self control and i can't just... say... shut the fuck up for once.... but instead seem to find the need to mouth-off a people on the street.

I was waiting for a taxi on King street for about half an hour on Friday night, right. Although it was actually only the first day of December, it appeared quite apparently that the silly season was yet again upon us, and suddenly taxis and all things transport-like at 3am were a signifficant commidity. For most of the half an hour i stood still, in the one place with my arm pointlessly in the air. I was pretty much asleep on my feet, i'd been drinking at a bar (with a tab!) since 5pm and was, quite rightly, rooted.

After realising that i wasn't getting anywhere fast and was quite likely about to fall asleep in the gutter, i started to do a panic. I ran across the other side of the street thinking that all the taxis were definitely coming from that direction. They weren't. So i went back where i was standing before, where a group had now congregated on my corner.

So this drunkity bird and her fella are walking past a dishevelled Mars, and she slurs in my direction... "You goin'a Southbank?"
"No" says i, "Cheltenham"
To which she responds "Pfft! Wouldn' even know where that is!"

At this point i should have walked away.
But i didn't.

"Well you're an ignorant FUCK, aren't you" spits i...

She spun around, suddenly quick and nimble on her feet and launched herself at me. Sadly for all involved, i'm all talk, and look less like this (which would have been handy) and more like this (which was quite useless). Being in no position to fight this girl, i squealed and ran into the middle of the group of people standing on my corner.

Thankfully for all involved (mostly me), the girl's boyfriend dragged her off home and i lived to tell the tale.

I've never been in a fight before (sibling fights don't count) and i'm not sure at 25 years of age, this is my time. I'm quite happy to have missed that boat... Anyway, things have really gone downhill for me in the way of mature, responsible behaviour since Dot left. I'm sure she'll use her absolute favourite word for describing me in the comments here... i await with baited breath.

Done by Mars

04 December 2006


And incidentally, Jules for President.

Done by Mars