Say Something...

Look at those ducks, waddling around like they own the place.

How many myki mates does it take to operate one of those new ticket machines? If the photo I took was any indication, as many as you can spare.

Fleetwood Mac was in town the other day. So naturally while on the tram I assumed every 40 - 50 year old getting off at Rod Laver Arena would be attending some Britney Spears concert. It could happen if she's still alive in a couple of decades, but going on current form who can really tell? But of course I could never afford to see something of that vintage and quality as I was off to the one dayer at the G' with Marcus, which of course we lost due to half the team literally getting caught out big time. I find that particular ad often comes back to bite the Vics in situations like these.

Once we figured out who was playing, a lot of fun was had speculating on who their support act would be. My favourites were Nickelback and/or Linkin Park for pure contrast in both style and quality. Just hearing "Fleetwood Mac with special guests Short Stack!" is enough to bring a smile to my stupid easily amused face. When I first heard of Short Stack could only envisage singing emo pancakes in spray on jeans and 'meggings' (Men in tights, but nothing like the Mel Brooks movie).

Indeed apart from that there wasn't all that much to smile about at the game itself. The only real point of interest was when the Chiu household lord and saviour Cam White brought himself on to bowl a couple of overs. Perhaps that was the omen I should've been looking out for. No, Whitey... no!

On a completely unrelated note, I realise it's been a very long time since I wrote anything here. Uni aside, writing these is a lot harder than it used to be given that I probably over think things too much so I end up rewriting a lot of what you see here. It's also a bit more difficult as I still link these posts through FriendFace/FaceSpace/SpaceFrame and I've become a lot more conscious as to who might be reading this pile of merde. Not that I expect many people to actually read whatever I write anyway.

I've come to see this as the test match version of blogging and my Twitter feed as the T20 version. Whichever form of the game I stick with remains to be seen. In any case, here endeth the hiatus.

No, scratch that. Only squalor applies here in the world of student architecture, where even coffee from 7-11 counts as a 'quality' stimulant. So this is what it comes down to, empty sushi packaging, Maccas and painkillers for what is presumably the overwhelming burden of expectation. I took this a couple of weeks back during one of my day night sessions in the labs and I'm not too surprised I managed to generate this much mess over lunch and dinner. I guess the world is right when they accuse us of being the worst polluters per capita.

The offending photograph in question was taken at my favourite spot in 516, the computer in the far corner of the room next to the window. I like it because it has plenty of natural light and space I can stare out into, plus having one less computer next to me means there's one less opportunity that I'll be annoyed by the person next to me. I know that sounds harsh but deal with it. Aside from food there's a book I was reading at the time, "Atlas of Novel Tectonics" which I'm considering buying over the interwebs just because it has a really cool cover. As the lady judge on Iron Chef might say, "Oooh, the texture!" On top of the book are my iPod, painkillers and student access card which I keep face down for a very good reason - my evil alter ego lives there. It's not my fault the girl who took my photo in first year didn't give a shit, and because of her I'm stuck with it for the remainder of my uni career. Interestingly enough, the painkillers I've been taking are recommended for "Headaches, back pain, muscle pain and period pain". That'll learn me for watching that episode of Gossip Girl.

I've come to accept the terms of my workload. Time is some sort of luxury that I cannot afford, but that only applies during the final 24 hours before something is due. Though surprisingly for an assignment we managed to get it done the day before, which must've been some sort of minor miracle worthy of church and press coverage. Actually we finished it early because we got an extension for our other subject all thanks to classmates who were doing a vastly more difficult subject. Bless each and every one of them, I say.

The not so funny thing about that assignment was that two of my friends who could've easily worked together were instead working with other people just because they got asked first. In both cases, each respective partner seemingly did as little work as possible while my friends did all the heavy lifting. And these were the friends who had the insanely difficult subject too. In the end we agreed they should have fobbed their partners off and let them outcasts work together. At least that way it'd become a contest to see who could do the least work.

On the upside, I was meant to go into uni tomorrow to work on a group project but my partner bailed on me at the last second... so I get to stay home! When I was telling my sister I ended up doing some sort of weird dance where I kept on chanting "homehomehomehomehome!" several times over. The thing is,  I really like being at home. It's not only where the heart is,  all my stuff is here too. I really really like my stuff.

As I've become annoyed at beginning each other post with an apology for not posting more often, said apology wil now come at the end of every post. Forgiveness, please!

One of my goldfish died the other day. I know they're not meant to live all that long but it's weird all the same. As a family we grew pretty attached to it, possibly because we gave them all names and personalities. The fact my sister and I named most of them after cricketers is neither here nor there, we're still waiting for Whitey (also the name of one of my external hard drives...) to get back into the test squad. This one was named Bhaji after a certain foul tempered Indian spinner. He won my 'Fish of the Month' award several months running, though he could never comprehend the trophy presentation ceremony. We ended up burying him in the backyard under the lemon tree. I've been to friends' places where their considerably larger, more tangible pets have been buried in their backyards and the feeling is still similar for some reason. Lousy emotional attachment.

The parents went out a couple of weeks later and bought a couple of new tiny fish since they reckoned the three remaining ones were starting to look sad or bored. One of them is the same sort of breed and the other is a sort of black and gold colour. We made an agreement that we wouldn't name them until they actually lived for more than a month or so, but I've started calling one of them Baby Bhaji... and so the cycle begins again.


It's almost the end of the month and I've been pretty quiet on the blogging front, what with the new semester and all. It took me until week three to truly feel like I'm in the second semester, such was the hangover of the first semester. All it took were a couple of near all nighters to get me started again, and thanks to first semester I no longer require what most people refer to as sleep (since it's so overrated) so I can work a lot more effectively. One of the unintended side effects of that semester is that I'm fairly used to putting a few more hours into work so I'm managing to keep on top of things for now. Of course I'm still as lazy as hell and I didn't help myself when I bought Civilisation for my iPod. So long productivity, greetings turn based strategy!

If you've bothered reading this far, thank you once again... I shall reward you with a random factoid that will only make sense to last semester's survivor group.
 - The following words will hereby be excised from my vocabulary: compelling, dilemma.
 - The following words will be given additional precedence: idle, hammer.
Something tells me I've missed a couple of words here and there.

And now for some more nonsensical photos, conveying jokes that perhaps aren't really jokes. On the tram to uni the other day, I came across a fairly ironic pair of posters.

As the Lee Harding (shudders) album title goes, what's wrong with this picture? And whatever happened to that guy, is he still "entertaining" troops in Iraq? As if post traumatic stress in a war torn area wasn't enough. Ouch, harsh.


Cool, apart from a somewhat buggered bonnet all seems well. And a nice poster for the new flick 'Drag Me To Hell'. And not even five metres away there are posters for...


Nickelback! Who says irony is dead. As the Queen might say, "One likes One's pants around One's feet". Huh?

Now that my work for semester one is largely out of the way, it's time to catch up on my beloved blog, the place I put my writing effort into when I'm not writing hastily written, poorly researched essays or letters of complaint to various media outlets over their treatment of the programme "Extreme Paintball". A few weeks back I had to head into uni over the weekend. However it wasn't all bad, I got to drive the Vengabus down to the train station on my ownsome. I know that's not a word but it feels right.

Right now I haven't been driving into town because I haven't had all that much experience driving despite my full licence status. My sister successfully downgraded my driving skills by hogging up all possible driving time practising for her multiple driving tests. I won't say how many because I lost count after a while. As a result I am possibly the least experienced fully licensed driver in the state (not as bad as Alan Davies in that episode of Jonathan Creek where he drives in first gear down a highway) but I am working away at that one trip at a time.

As per usual, while semi proofreading I have forgotten to explain how we named our car. It's a tribute of sorts to one of my favourite shows ever, "Get This" and the late Richard Marsland who was forced into an impromptu performance of the Vengabus live on air. It didn't matter that he used lyrics from two Vengaboys songs, it's not like anyone can still remember the lyrics to any of their songs anyway.

Here's to years of competent driving and adequate parking. I'm done with this post, onto the next one!

I'm still busy typing away at stuff until Friday, but until then I think it's important that I keep in touch so people won't think I'm dead and start to fight over things I've lent them.

Let's see, I had my design presentation on Saturday. Before then, I was busy finishing off my A1 boards and my A5 design journal and subsquently I was up for about 48 hours straight, save a couple of micronaps while other people were presenting. I didn't feel like sleeping much until sometime in the afternoon when all the caffeine I had consumed was starting to wear off, but I recovered in time to present.

Afterwards I believe my sleeping schedule was something along the lines of:
- Saturday night, 8.30 - 12.30
- Sunday morning, 1.30 - 5.10
- Sunday morning, 5.20 - 2.00pm
- Sunday afternoon, 5.00 - 7.00

By the end of it I wasn't completely sure what day it was. Every day seemed like Sunday to me. Unfortunately I compared notes with other people in my class and someone had beaten me by sleeping a full 24 hours straight, her parents thought she had lapsed into some sort of coma.

I think that's all the time I have for the now, will update in the not too distant future with a proper match report. In the meantime let me dazzle you with the random stuff I've been doing these past few weeks.

And now for yet another in this anti homework series of procrastinatory based posts.

Is my sense of irony reading too much into the fact that the official NRL song for this year happens to contain lyrics about the protagonist having a one night stand with a mysterious woman who he "never saw again, but that was alright"? The moral of the story is that I should never listen to pop song lyrics ever again, lest it rot my brains.

As for real news, doomsday is fast approaching and I only have a shonky umbrella for cover. My design is rapidly coming to a close, but not nearly rapidly enough. I'm going to start studying for my exam tomorrow in the hopes that I can at least get a pass. I went out and borrowed a few more books to help with my essay but I really don't know how well I can make it all gel together in a week and a bit. Yea, I'm downgrading my expectations for my other subjects which isn't really the best thing to do. Design had better be bloody worth it.

Lastly, the University has released yet another revised grading system. My only question is: in this age of the Internet infiltrating both popular and unpopular culture, when will we see an "Epic Fail" grade where your results are delivered by the Twitter Fail Whale? I might be needing one of those soon...

Hey look, the semester's over? Unfortunately I didn't really have as much free time as I thought I did, so I've been putting off this post for quite some time now. I wrote this around a month ago, perhaps I was waiting for something else to add to it but I'm not sure what. There's plenty more to say but I'll save that for another time...

(In best Jack Bauer voice) The following takes place between the 25th and 26th of April, 2009.

Hey look, free time! Where'd that come from?

In the time since my last locker status update, conditions have take a turn for the worst. Crappy uncompleted models lying around not being able to fulfill their destiny due to a lack of time. Indeed time is a luxury no one in my class has at the moment.


We've been trying to create a mockup of our proposed atrium archway model and it's fair to say it's been nothing short of a nightmare for everyone involved. To try and get things done I spent an all nighter sitting in the labs churning out panel after panel of work that the other guys had been working so hard to produce.


I'm pretty sure that's more masking tape than I've used in my entire life, but all that tape was consumed quickly in one night, taping freshly cut pieces of toxic MDF. Yay for us!


I started around one in the afternoon or so and kept on trucking until about eight the following morning, when I had to go out and play cards, followed by a quick nap at home and accompanying my sister to see Eagles of Death Metal at eight Sunday evening. Two bottles of Lemon V can take you that far but eventually it all catches up with you. I get pretty emo when something that happens so I should really apologise if you were the unintended target of my misguided rage.

I have a lot of trouble trying to explain exactly what kind of music the Eagles of Death Metal play. The name itself is so misleading that no one really cares for my explanations and frankly there probably isn't much point unless I pull out my iPod and play some of their stuff. I believe my sister would've had a similar problem as I only went along because she couldn't find anyone else to go with her. That's obscurity for you but then we can't all be fans of Miley Cyrus.





The really disappointing part was that the support acts took their sweet time (on the upside Kram was great) and by the time the main act started I could only stick around for the first few songs before I had to pop back into uni to update myself on what was going on. This studio has a lot to answer for. Fortunately my sister was able to use our camera to tape the encore which had my personal favourite from EoDM, "Speaking in Tongues" which comes complete with an interlude where the lead breaks into well, his take on speaking in tongues. Great song from a band that doesn't take itself too seriously, just don't let the video scare you off.



Getting back to the reason my life is a living hell, the annoying part is that the computer generated parametric model on which my all nighter was based was ditched in favour of a modified scheme. For something on this scale, design development is just another term for massive waste of time, materials and effort. So many futile exercises and for what, I don't really know. All I know is that I'm the proud owner of a box full of MDF diamonds and damnit, I'm going to use them for something.

In today/yesterday's Age, the government takes a more radical approach to kangaroo population control.

Still no time to write anything overly substantial, not that said quality was ever really present to begin with. Still, it's 2am and thanks to my everlasting commitments to uni I don't feel like sleeping just yet. I don't know how regular people pull it off really.

Here's a nice photo I took early on in the semester where I didn't actually have all that much to store. Can't say there's too much time to actually play now, though I did manage to have a quick hit out the other day. Made a rotten effort of it really... I'm either blaming the fading afternoon sunlight or I've completely forgotten how to read a ball.

This is partially what I do with my waking hours now. assembling computer generated, laser cut models that don't actually work because the material is so lousy at doing anything. Unfortunately the alternative is MDF, a product widely promoted as the next asbestos. In fact I'm pretty certain I had some MDF for dinner in class tonight, fun times.


If we really can be helped we'd probably go to Nando's or KFC for some refreshing chicken grease. They make the best products to ever come out of mashing a chicken into little pieces for our nourishment. Given the chance though, I'd try and get some red meat instead... unless you want Sam Neill coming after you dressed like his character in Event Horizon, sans eyes claiming that we were meant to eat red meat while tearing chunks of flesh off you and dancing some sort of jig. What a nice thought to finish on...

Curse you Lady Gaga, what does that even mean? If the explanation of the lyrics are to be believed, she sure has one expressive body.

Cricket, cards, more cricket and then some poker. All in all a good day out, but no poker game would be complete without some sort of god hand. Such hands are more impressive as we don't use decks that are obviously rigged like those used on poker tournaments on TV. We had it on in the background and pocket aces showed up no less than three times in the same tournament. Who needs statistical reality when you can entertain everyone at home?

The closest we got to something like that was this hand. Such crazy luck, I'm so sorry Ken.


Judging from this captured memento it looks like I was the dealer in this round. Seems natural that I'd end up giving myself the upper hand...

I could blame Tandy for going to losing Bushrangers' games. I could blame Cameron White's "Six or Bust" batting. I could blame my sister for not bringing me another free piece of food. But nothing will take away the fact that we blew yet another final at the G'. This has all the beginnings of a trend, one that I don't care for at all... I sure hope we don't become the Geelong of cricket finals.

My sister is now a sports journalist in training which in short means she gets to go to the press box and go to press conferences afterwards. That meant I had a fair but undefined amount of time to waste after the cursed innings so I went with Tandy to a HK style cafe restaurant in the city and got what I always got in HK... French toast!
















I only now realise I have developed this strange habit of taking photos of my food whenever I eat out. But how else will I memorialise that egg and ham on instant noodle? I also realise I could easily make that at home for nothing, but you can't go wrong with HK style cuisine... unless the MSG and grease does something awful to you down the line.

In an entirely unrelated note, in my complete and utter boredom/supreme vanity the other day I set up a Twitter account, you can locate it here and via the widget on my front page sidebar. So far only two people I barely know use it, but if this thing takes off like everyone says it will then I might have a reason to use it 2000 times a day. Then you will all know when and what I'm eating...

...Well at least for the few glorious moments until he holed out in the deep trying to hit another six. And don't forget he also has a perfect record as national vice captain in the T20 format. It's all upside, people!

Sometimes I feel it's my responsibility to tell the people about superior television programming. Most people have better things to do with their lives but there's no need to take that kind of tone with me, we're all friends here after all.

As part of my commitment to late night cult shows, I stumbled upon 30 Rock a couple of years ago and it has become what some refer to as appointment television. The following clip is one of the many reasons I love this show... Alec Baldwin is suburb in this scene.



The 3rd season has just started so catch it if you can. Until next time, don't order the largest meal on the menu at the Pancake Parlour and follow up with a Super Sundae, even if you are sharing with four other people.


Time to get this picture framed and hung on my wall, just like Lemon.

Okay, so I lied about being over and done with all those holiday pics. These ones do lead somewhere though, so hang on there for a few seconds more.


This hastily taken photo was taken outside one of the hotels I was staying at. I think it's some sort of karaoke type place. Or the world's largest ball pit... actually that'd be kinda fun.


How many of you take the time to deface and then remove in flight material from aircraft? Well now you know one of them.

Why am I showing you all of these silly pictures? Why is the title in French? Am I being bought out by some French corporation? Look below to see what I acquired with the help of my sister the other day...


I am pleased to say I now own one a copy of one of the worst songs ever written. I'm not sure why I feel this way about bad music, but it all became clear when I heard the instrumental version on the B-side for the first time off the vinyl. Must... fight urge... to sing along....

On the other hand, if you really do feel like singing along here's the instrumental version on YouTube. It's a bit longer than the usual track but it'll do.



And why sing along without the lyrics? You'll end up looking like one of those smucks who compete on "Don't Forget The Lyrics" and have done just that.

That's all from me for now, join me next time when I talk about music that isn't PATT. That's right, we're too cool to refer to the song by its full name.

This was taken on Lantau Island near the cable car leading up to the giant Buddha. I can't say there's an awful lot to see there since the entire cable car thing is a ploy by the MTR company to attract visitors. There's even a fake Chinese village at the end of the line dressed up like the old olden days where you can buy souvenirs presumably just like they used to hundreds of years ago.

I chose this photograph because I spent a good 30 minutes with my dad here waiting for the rest of my family to find a toilet. There's something about the elderly that requires some of them to report to a urinal every couple of hours, and when several of them congregate at once there is no escape.



Here we have two fine specimens of the ancient and noble order of the Starbuck, a mystic organisation devoted to serving you every possible combination of coffee imaginable, no matter how diabetes inducing or caffeine shake effecting it is.

Here's a nice night shot my sister took of the new fancy casino in Macau. It looks ridiculous during the day but at night it has a strange degree of fascination that attracts the eye. For a town driven completely by gambling, it really is a nice place to visit. I wasn't there long enough to find the seedy underbelly that runs the place but my inner Gamblor felt right at home.

Food in general is fairly cheap in these parts of the world, but being in a casino as part of a captive audience tends to inflate prices somewhat. The silver lining of sorts is that the prices becomes about the same as food would cost back home so you feel slightly not so bad about it... well self delusion was worth a shot.



I visited my old school with an old friend of mine from my old life. It was pure coincidence that we both happened to be visiting Hong Kong during the same week, let alone the same year. Not all of us former Hong Kongers have the chance to head back every year, and indeed not all of us have good reasons or desire to. Being back on old ground means a lot more when there's someone else to experience it with.

I took the next pic at the Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront. It's a countdown clock letting you know how soon the looming 2009 East Asia Games are. Can't you just feel the excitement building up?




If you could win people at the fairground, I guess they would come in giant human sized enclosures like this. The clamp would really hurt though.

In Hong Kong, missing the train is no big deal. You simply wait 3 to 4 minutes for the next one. It's quick, reliable and most importantly nothing like the public transport system here. No bullshit about the tracks being too hot or there not being enough trains to service everyone, things just work there. Oh, and they have a smartcard system that doesn't take forever to implement.

Seeing this anti-drugs ad while on the train somehow made me think of that Jennifer Garner movie "Suddenly 30", but with a different set of numbers.

(Scene: young Chad, a surly teenager with a lust for sloth visits his grandfather in the nursing home and observes all the equipment keeping him alive.)

"Aww man! Look at all that neat stuff! I wish I could have a machine eat, breathe and extract my waste for me!"

(Chad then goes home to his closet and breaks out the jar of fairy dust that's been sitting on his doll house. Chad's a confused, lazy kind of sloth who will grow up to become the lead singer of Nickelback but of course he's skipping it all, thank Christ for that. He proceeds to sprinkle a liberal amount of fairy dust on himself.)

(Chad awakens 53 years later in the closet, only to stumble out and fall down the stairs and dislocating his hip in the process. He later finds out all his friends are dead and he can't afford all those nice things his grandfather had and has kidney failure from his days as a propagator of bad stoner rock music. On his way back to the house to gather the fairy dust to return him to his adolescent state, he is attacked by a mob of former PoWs who were tortured by the US government with the use of his music and the theme to Sesame Street, which he also somehow wrote before he was even conceived.)

Ok, so it starts out like a screwball comedy but ends up like a tragic drama. You might think that this is the worst script idea ever and that it'd never work but then they did make Hancock. I just need Will Smith to play Chad.


And this brings us to the end of this long winded journey, definitely worthy of the 100 post milestone. Thanks to everyone who even bothers visiting this site every now and then, I look forward to writing the next 100 posts.

Join me next time when I buy a new record!

Facebook isn't just for stalking people and reading ads that prey on your status as a single male; it's also good for an all in chorus line, boy band style.

The best part about going overseas is living in hotels where you never have to clean up after yourself, as they always end up fumigating the room the moment you hand your keys in at the front desk. Anything you weren't allowed to do at home is fair game, from eating in bed to operating your own meth lab using the contents of the complementary bathroom products and the minibar.

In Hong Kong we had the luxury of staying with family, which is almost like staying at a hotel except for the fact that soup and fruit are served immediately after each hearty meal. As a result I am now allergic to fruit and Chinese style soups. The first hotel we stayed in was The Venetian in Macau, a massive complex built on the opposite side of town away from the main casino district. In a town like Macau you need a gimmick to attract visitors - the end result may still be the same but each casino comes in different packaging. Some have bright lights, some are shaped like stuff, and The Venetian shifted a city block of Venice to your hotel doorstep.


A lot of detail has gone into this recreation. The style of building, the canals and the gondoliers are all there waiting for you under a perpetual blue sky. The ceiling isn't bewitched as described in "Hogwarts: A History" but if you look close enough you can see the smoke detectors. Suppressing my inner architect took a bit of doing, the strange reproduction of the streetscape follows details closely but of course lacks the authenticity of a city that is far older than this. But as I said before, all this stuff is just to get your sad sorry arses through the door - after all, you're all here to 'win' money. I am proud to say that as a family unit we actually managed to make 400.25HKD on the pokies using just the complementary credit generously provided by the casino. Is this to become our new family bonding experience? Time will tell.

The following collage tells the story of our odyssey from the entrance of the casino to our room. One thing we noticed during our stay is that getting from Point A to Point B is never as easy as you might think. Even the most direct points consisted of us walking through long winding corridors built to resemble a maze, and don't think that getting back to the lobby of the hotel tower is the end of that chapter. Unfortunately for us our rooms were at the far end of the floor, and when each floor is shaped like a very large letter 'C' you can begin to imagine what the scenery will be like. It's like being stuck in that hotel from "The Shining" - just add blood. My only real complaint is that the place doesn't seem to be fully staffed, as it took them an extra three hours for them to get our rooms ready for check in. These problems may be ironed out in time but it may deter me from going back there again.



After heading back to Hong Kong for a day to rest and repack we were off to Taiwan for five days. I covered a lot of what we saw there but the hotels we stayed in are worth mentioning (to me) just because they steadily got weirder and weirder as the tour progressed. The general idea behind these moderately priced tours is that your accommodation starts off being fairly cheap then gets more and more impressive near the end. This first place in Kaohsiung was pretty basic but it had plumbing fixtures that were seemingly installed just for me. Ever seen an elephant faucet?



Join me next time when I dig up a few more holiday pictures for you to fall asleep to, just like when the distant relative you never liked brings around his/her holiday snaps and forces you to sit through each photograph in agonising detail. Before long you're attempting to end it by cutting yourself with the edges of the photos, and then you realise you're watching a digital slideshow. Just one of the many downsides of the modern age.