Sunday, February 20, 2005


I think I'm suffering from a serious case of IDS - Internet Deprivation Syndrome. Symptoms include shivering, biting nails, inability to sleep, and stark raving lunacy. Hardly anybody has the internet down here, and I'm blogging this from the back of an olive tree which I've discovered has internet connection and ... actually, that's not true. I'm doing this from an internet cafe in Bendigo.

That's not to say that I haven't had an exciting week, working with my brother. Here's a breakdown for you:

Sunday - Dug holes.

Monday - My brother, Lachlan, discovered a rock in the field.

Tuesday - Spent all day staring at the ground while attaching pieces of pipe together.

Wednesday - Lachlan successfully identified a Workplace Danger: a small stick, lying on the ground, which could cause cuts or even bruises.

Thursday - Rammed posts into the ground.

Friday - Rammed posts into the ground, again. I also wrote a poem. It was called 'Nature is Pretty':

Nature is pretty
Nature is nice
Hey look! There's a sheep
Being eaten by lice!

Saturday - As above.

So - how was your week?

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Skin Cancer Ahoy!

Hello folks! I'm typing this from an internet cafe in Mildura, having recently chucked in a decently paying part-time job writing reports in Newcastle for a excellent-paying full-time job laying down hose line on a farm near Robinvale.

Now I have early mornings, long hours, blisters, and the occasional case of skin-tumour to look forward to. And at the end of the three months, a big fat bank account. That is, if I can restrain the urge to get trashed at the first opportunity, blowing my savings.

Oh, what fun!

In The Unlikely Event of an Emergency

In the unlikely event of an emergency
Such as the plane falling out of the sky
Do not run through the aisle
Shouting, 'We're all going to die!'

In the unlikely event of an emergency
(Eg, the pilot turning into a salami)
Remain in your seats and stay calm
By practising origami.

In the unlikely event of an emergency
Like the plane crashing into the sea
Please hold back your cannibalist urge
To dine on the Hostesses for tea.

You may even survive. Do Not Panic!
(You may pray to your Deity, as well)
Though we cannot, of course, guarantee
That he exists, and will save you from hell.

In the unlikely event of an emergency
That probably won't happen at all
We ask that you trust us completely
Before death breaks your fiery fall.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Cover Story

"Don't judge a book by its cover," they say. Huh. Next time they'll be telling us that you shouldn't judge a person by appearances. I bet the people who say this are fat, blonde, and walk about wearing shirts saying, 'I am a big fat dumb blonde person who doesn't know what they're saying'.
I mean, let's face it, in the world of publishing as it is today, with the streamlining of different genres and authors, covers have become more and more important. I mean, if you don't judge a book by its cover, what are you going to judge it by? It's weight? It's contents? Don't make me laugh!

Judging a Book By Its Cover #1

Look at me, this cover is saying. I am big. I am black. I have several important looking vowels and consonants on me, and I have an attractive futuristic-art feel to me. I will look ever-so-valuable sitting there on the shelf, and if your cousins ask you why you don't read science-fiction any more, you can just clobber them over the head with me.
But, you ask, can you read me? Can you read me?

Jingle jingle jaunted jingling.

Coin rang. Clock clacked.

Avowal. Sonnez. I could. Rebound of garter. Not leave thee. Smack. La cloche! Thigh smack. Avowal. Warm. Sweetheart, goodbye!

Jingle. Bloo.

Exactly. If you wanted to get a book for its contents, go out and get the train timetable. It's cheaper, smaller, much easier to understand, and it's cover is much uglier.

Buy me. Buy me now.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

I Was Going To Have a New Poll

I was going to have a new poll today. It was going to ask, 'What's Your Favourite Whole Number Integer?' Option 1) would have been 1, Option 2) would have been 2, and so on.
However, when I got to option 32536526214664525253244): 32536526214664525253244, I decided to stop. Who knows how long I would have to go on otherwise? Plus, I started wondering if I should have used the hexadecimal-base system instead of the decimal.

So - what's your favourite whole-number integer? Mine's 43783244.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Better Latte than Never

The girl whose name I do not know was standing on a chair with her back to the cash register when I came in. She was writing words on a blackboard, and I stood there and watched it.

Give the One You Love

Here she stopped, looked around, laughed and came to the cash register.

"Now I'll never know how it ends," I said. "I'll be tormented all night"
"Oh, it's just something like Give the One You Love ... ", she said, ending with some inaudible phrase. "And how was your day?"
"Alright," I said. "I've been here and there ... here and there..."
"What would you like?"
"A latte, of course." I said. "And make it good! This will probably be the last one I have...."
".... why?"
"I'm leaving Newcastle soon. Flying out on Sunday."
"Oh! How exciting for you! Why?"
"I've got some full time work in Victoria, with my brother."
"Well... Good luck!"
I turned to go to the table, then said, "and ... could I have a slice of rocky road as well?"

Taking the table I usually took, a single far back in the room, I settled back with my book and watched the people behind the counter. The short girl with thick glasses was jumping up and down, saying something to the older woman - probably an owner. The chefs were moving around behind the coffee machine.
Shortly the girl came in with a plate of rocky road and a latte.
"I'll just go and get you some cutlery," she said, and went out for a second.
"There you go," she said, laying the cutlery on the table.
"Thankyou very much."
There were two slices of rocky road.

It had been a strange day. I'd taken a couple of farewells from people I knew in the city. First there had been Callan, in Graphic Action. I walked about the store; I was browsing amongst the magazines when James shot out of a door in the back shouting something about prices. "Hey, Tim," he said.
"Hey, James," I said, before he disappeared in the back again.
After chatting to Callan, buying a comic from him, talking to him about my new job and move, I left. I told Callan, 'say bye to Liam and James for me.'
Later, I walked down to the Second Life bookshop.
"Hi Tim," said Liz as I walked in the door. "Haven't seen you in a while."
I left twenty minutes later with a copy of Helen Fielding's Cause Celeb in my hand.

Sip. Slice.
I alternated between glancing at my book, cutting slices of the rocky road, sipping the coffee, and looking up at the blackboard inventing alternate ways to end the sentence.

Give the one you love ... to Satan, for the Dark Lord will get them in the end anyway!

Give the one you love ... an orgasm. Nothing says I love you better than that.

Give the one you love...

I leafed idly through my book, some short stories by George McDonald. I generally try to read or finish a crossword when I'm in the cafe. I usually end up looking at the people around me.
Sip. Slice.
I leafed idly through the book.
Sip. Slice.
The girl finished the sign:

Give the one you love ... time off and treat them to a Valentine's Meal at MARTINES!

Sip. Slice.
I continued eating and leafing my way through the book. The latte was good.
(Once, for the hell of it, I'd come in and asked for an iced-coffee. "And how was it?" she had asked afterwards. "Oh, not bad," I said. "As iced-coffees go."... She'd frowned at this.)
Presently the girl came in and started moving about the room. She picked up two chairs from the table at the front and took them into the chamber, in front of the checkout counter. She laid one chair down then put the other chair on top of that, back pointing down to the ground. She came in and took two more chairs from that table, pushing the table out of her way, then took those two chairs out and laid them down in front of the counter.
Sip. Slice.
She moved to another table and took the chairs out from that. She continued to move around the room, taking out the chairs from underneath the table and laying them out in the front, working her way further into the room.
Sip. Slice.
I noticed how she carefully worked her way around my table, not taking any of the three empty chairs away. She started to bump into tables. Several chairs had been laid out in the front room.
Sip. Slice.
I pretended to be reading my book.
Eventually, I finished my latte. I left the cup, saucer, and plate on the table, then took up my book and took one metal chair in either hand.
"You don't have to do that," she said.
"I thought you could do with some help," I shrugged.
"I get paid to do it," she said. "You don't."
"That's fine," I said, paying my bill.
"See you later."

Still haven't finished my book.


We Interrupt this Blog to Bring You an Announcement By the Good For You Association

Nuts! Nuts! NUUUUUUUUUUUTS!!! They're everywhere! Everywhere, I tell you ... EVERYWHERE! We have to do something about it ... something quick! To protect the the children!


Extensive studies have shown that many domestic food stuffs may contain traces of this vile food, which can in some cases cause coughing, itching, and even death! Even food items such as chips, bread, corn crackers, and nuts may, in fact, contain nuts!


But that's not all! Further research has shown that many common household illnesses may in fact contain traces of nuts. These include:

- Influenza

- Gastroenteritis

- Cancer

- Ebola

- Rabies

- Leprosy

Something must be done NOW to eliminate the nuts from these illnesses, and return to them their natural, life-destroying state!


Traces of the deadly fruit have even been found in common firearms, as well as bazookas, machine guns, pistols, and other weapons. We demand a Government study to ascertain the extent of this!


Some people even say we're nuts!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled nonsense.

Rapacious Murdoch Empire Annihilates Another Feisty Small Business, Blood, Guts Spilled

Rapacious Media Hegemonsters Rupert Murdoch and Kerry Packer claimed another scalp today: The Chaser, one of Australia's only print satirical publications, has folded.

Julian Morrow, one of the founders, is quoted: "We failed despite a complete lack of competition 1, sense of humour, writing quality, and a pathetic reliance upon lame Onion-style headlines. That is, if you ignore the wide variety of humorous, amusing, entertaining, laughter-causing, giggle-inducing, satirical and parodic publications on the internet, which you should."

Upon hearing of the closure of The Chaser, Rupert Murdoch said, "Good. Now I can go back to repressing the third-world, destroying the environment, living my unsustainable lifestyle, and eating babies. 2"

1. Only first part of quote true, although all of it is accurate
2. Accuracy rating in this quote: approximately % 0.000001
Email: timhtrain - at -

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