Well, I'm at Melbourne uni now, having new adventures and finding new surrogate security hovels to wait out colder months, inquiries and the plotting citizenry of your planet. I'm finally doing psychology which beats self diagnosing with wikipedia and facebook quizzes, so naturally I'm kind of happy. Kind of naturally happy... not the sort of happy I get from not sleeping... or not eating... or any other obtuse form of self harm, for that matter.
'I am Jack's complete lack of surprise'
Because something finally happened, and I'm an emotional exhibitionist in authenticity's bordello, have a run down of things! Because you want what I want you to want!
What they don't tell you about a mid year transfer is that three days to choose subjects, get enrolled, walk in line to Joy Division's Walked In Line (for self effacing hypocrisy... and angsta cred. T_T) get books, teach yourself a semester's worth of biology and maintain the illusion that technically you didn't run away this time and you won't fuck this one up like another page in a recurring nightmare etc. is impossible. They assume you have a sliver of sense about you.
PFFT, I spent $50 on a monkey vest that doesn't reach my nipples, what do I know about rationality? So I do what I do best. I'm a rennaissance man. Nothing is impossible sans appearing respectable or trustworthy in the slightest... So like Da Vinci himself, I fuelled up on camp metal, impractical sunglasses and that alluring, inevitable femme fatale stride... because I can't pull off the dude version, something about prepubescent genitalia... TRUE STORY. Last week I was 'mistaken' for a fourteen year old FOUR TIMES. That's a new record. Thrice buying DVDs... because now people seem to care about the kind of filth that messed me up in the first place, and once at my intolerable job that's not a job that I lost but then got back, but will lose again in four weeks that pays in memberships to local football clubs that has no appeal to me despite frequent displays of homosexuality to spite the female species for it's outright exclusion of my genetic information... you dig?
Uhhh... *cliche 'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway's* Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway, I had to line up for an hour and a half to find out where my queries should have been directed... oh, and to have a student card remind me of why my abstinence from smiling could well be what's regulating ocean acidity*. WOO. I get to be a enrolled student of a course that's not just TAFE in accredited clothing.
A hilarious photoshop with that Karl Stefanovic joke of a human being would be here, but I couldn't do it without him sexing up farm animals
*'What's Regulating Ocean Acidity?'tm is a property of the nine network and it's subsidiaries. Expect educational candid life guard trivia with all your favourite 'personalities' who didn't get sniped by dancing with the stars this summer
Alright... I've steered the ship out of awkward waters into politically incorrect ones... and I can see that masking tape 'X'... I think we'd normally rap this up? Well then, sorry everyone, for being such a crummy little blogger and wallowing in misery most masturbatory all the time.
This is a work of intended yet misguided humour, any relation to submerged personality traits is purely coincidental... or ornately fabricated by a genius... but most of you have witnessed me in face paint for face paint's sake, or watched me eat leaves for facepaint's sake... so I leave that judgement to you.
ACK!!! How could I forget this!!!
'The metaphysical comfort--with which, I am suggesting even now, every true tragedy leaves us--that life is at the bottom of things, despite all the changes of appearances, indestructibly powerful and pleasurable--this comfort appears in incarnate clarity in the chorus of the satyrs, a chorus of natural beings who live ineradicably, as it were, behind all civilization and remain eternally the same, despite the changes of generations and of the history of nations.' - Nietzsche The Birth of Tragedy
OH!! And like O my brothers and all that cal.
BYE
1 comment:
Can't leave this out either
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