20 February 2011


hungover as I was this morning, I had to drag my sorry arse out of the house and go looking for likely places to crash when I begin my big adventure. Couldn't be buggered getting too adventurous, so I stuck to the coast, and as close to public transport as I could. I ended up in a small community on the southern tip of the central coast, Pearl Beach. I'd not been there before, but I'm in love. My camera is playing up atm, so these are just stock pics from Google to give you an idea of what I'll be putting up with when I forgo my roof :)
A view from the northern most tip of Pearl Beach, the greenery in the BG is almost entirely National Park, and I saw three wallabies at different times of the day.
About three k's inland from the Southern side of Pearl Beach, a small watercourse, that turns into a waterfall when it's been raining. Which it has, so I need to get my camera working.
Small creek leading into Pearl Beach-public land, and zero no camping signs. Paradise here I come!
I explored each of these three places quite thoroughly today, I just hope I can get my camera to talk to me and put my pics up, cos they be super pretty, esp. if the wildlife pics come out.

17 February 2011

What was the last gig you went to?

Saw a great band last night. Not sure what their name was, or whether they even had a name. Might have just been a bunch guys who jam together a lot and do the occasional gig for beer money and the hell of it. They were a five-piece jazz combo, kicking out the jams at the local pub and I almost missed them because I had a friend with kids with me and it was getting on for bedtime when the music kicked off.

But what the hell. I'm supposed to be on holidays this week and although modern children are raised in a cloud of music, with most of them being able to work an iPod like champions by the age of five, other than the occasional Wiggles concert I'm guessing that for the most part their exposure to live music is pretty thin.

A pity. Because live music rocks.

Sure, last night's unexpected show wasn't akin to catching a guerilla gig by Death Cab for Cutie, but damn those old dudes played some tight little numbers. Made me wish I'd had a coupla bucket bongs before heading out for my burger 'n' chips.

The kids loved it. The room was jumping. And it all put me in mind of some awesome gigs I've rolled into over the years, often by accident, and strangely enough most often in the middle of nowhere. On a Tuesday. Don't know what it is about rural Australia, but they do turn out some great pub bands out there.

Made me wonder how it is we come to lose contact with music as we get older. It's not that we fall out of love with music. Nowadays we carry it with us at all times. But of course there comes a day when you realise it's been a year since you made the effort to get out and see a band or, er, whatever it is the kids these days see.

And that's a bummer. Because no matter the style. The era. Whatever. There are some great musicians out there every night, doing their thing for us. If only we had the time to listen. 

15 February 2011

More grand designs c/o an unfathomably confused Australian Gummint

More evolved Australians investing their superannuation funds, quite sensibly, in quality art, will soon have to either rent the evil artifact to someone or pay for its professional storage.
The art rental market is on its knees, and paying for fine art storage is an unnecessary cost which undermines the investment value. But even if investors promise to avert their gaze when passing their artworks in the hall, or to sit in chairs with their backs to the painting, it is STILL - NOT - OK! It is also apparently not OK to safely and sensibly store the artworks in their alarmed, insured and secure spare room. 

How does this make it a better investment?

Our government allows us to invest in art as long as we don't look at it! And we voted for these people.

Pretty weird huh?

Do Julia Gillard & Co think that art is unAustralian? Do they think paintings wear out under an appreciative gaze? Or more likely, perhaps they don't think at all - even about how Australia is laughed at for such nonsense! We are hicks! We are rednecks!
No. Investors must pay to store their art somewhere else - after all, they might succumb. They might creep into the spare room in the dead of night, peel back the bubble wrap and guiltily indulge in forbidden visual pleasures. And where would we all be then?

The government must protect us from the pleasures of fine art at all costs, even if it does mean breaking a still warm election promise!

And even if it does put yet another bullet in the heart of Australia's once fine art industry!

Voltron Is Taking Video Game Form | Kotaku Australia

I have dreamed of this moment, I absolutely loved this show as a kid, used to wake up before the sun to make sure not even the eating of breakfast could interrupt with my viewing. This better not get fucked up.

via www.kotaku.com.au

The combined might of the Voltron licence and the publishing powers of THQ will bring the ’80s cartoon to video game form this year, according to a report from Variety.

The quintet of mechanical space lions that form Voltron will be part of a “series” of video games that aims to revitalise the franchise alongside a new animated TV show, Voltron Force, slated to air on Nickelodeon. No details yet on developer, platforms or release date, but Variety says to expect giant robot lions later this Spring (Autumn in Northern hemisphere).

Nerd Girl Army: Anti Valentine? St Harlequin's Day is for you

Check it.

Kings Cross, a Sydney tourism institution since the 1950's.

Late last year a council assessment on anti-social behaviour claimed that on an average Friday night in Kings Cross there are 80 fights per hour. No wonder given there are 300 licensed premises within 500 square metres. Yet on any Saturday night that I have been dragged, reluctantly, to the Cross, I have witnessed very little violence. Don't get me wrong, there is always an undercurrent of menace on the streets as the outer suburban wankers travel to town to make their presence felt.

The usual, at least once a night on Friday and Saturday...
Last weekend I saw two young fellas, they must have been mates, both obligatorily shirtless. One struggled to return to a fight as the other restrained him. From up the street three *huge* guys appeared, also clubbers, also shirtless, spotted the first two and broke into a sprint. They barrelled into them, dropping them both straight to the ground and proceeded with boots and fists to make lasting acquaintances. A cop car was right there in traffic and triggered the siren, sending the hit squad scampering off in different directions. A few minutes later around the block I watched them regroup to catch their breath, before heading back towards the nightclub strip.
Rule #1 for all gutter punks and weekend warriors pushing their luck: avoid any situation where enraged body builders find reason to want to jump up and down on you. You will definitely go down, and maybe never get up.

...and the aftermath
Also last weekend, I saw some cabbies get their fight on. It started with the usual Kings Cross junkie, railing against the world, threatening and challenging everyone he saw. His mistake was to kick the smallest cabbie, who was surrounded by a handful of his (much, much bigger) mates. They responded magnificently in self defence, causing an instant 180° change in demeanor from the idiot as he beat a hasty retreat.
More common than outright fighting are the scuffles and shouting matches between punters and bouncers at places like Central railway, Star City casino, and most of George Street. Basically drunken fools (the public) Vs. shaved apes on speed (the security). All show and no go. If you prefer the popular cage fighting style, and you're in Sydney, then head to Kings Cross on a Friday night. It’s a zoo.

14 February 2011

Two Valentines Day cards I saw that didn't make me want to stick my head in a bucket of warm puke.

A New House. Kinda.
A month from today my two cuddly housemates are embarking on a huge adventure together, jumping into 
their magic blue van to travel 'round Australia, then the world! This left me in somewhat of a pickle, housing wise. I had three choices, run home to Ma with my tail between my legs, to eat well, be surrounded by fresh vegies and countryside, and die of boredom; move back to the fetid, hellish fug that is Sydney, a place I never thought I'd leave, and now dread the idea of spending more than a few hours in; or stay right the Hell where I am, and live rough while I save some money. Being the self flaggelant bugger that I am, I'm sticking around right here on the coast. In a cave. Actually, in several caves-I've been planning*grins*.
 present, only ninety minutes walk from civilisation, on the temperate Central Coast of NSW , Australia, my fancy next home...
My proposed first residence, a fifteen minute walk from...

...the bath, which catches six hours of sun in the middle of Winter. Bracing, but not so cold that the brass monkey will be scrabbling around on the bottom for his balls.

My friends seem to think one of two things, that I'm crazy, and I'll try it for two days and quit, or that I'm crazy, and won't bother at all. I say "Pffft", I hope to be able to stay out in nature for at least six months, maybe more. I've worked out that I'll only have to shop once a week, so apart from work now and then, I'm free to luxuriate in some of the prettiest land I've ever seen.
I will have to carry the majority of my life on my back, which is easy, because apart from books and candles, my life basically fits in a backpack anyway. My diet will have to undergo some slight tweaks, meat only once a week for a start, which-if I've done my sums right, is how often I'll be heading in to shop. After nine months of sharing a house with vegetarians, that is no great sacrifice, I've basically given it up anyway, in deference to their tastes. I want to do everything in my power to avoid falling ill, so no more eggs and cheese, either-too much risk of spoilage. 

The hardest thing, and the bridge many friends think I'll be unable to cross-no more smoking, no more drinking. I want to leave the places I'm staying as pristine as I can, and smoking carries too many risks-fire, rubbish etc., as far as drinking goes, I just won't be physically able to carry the amount of alcohol I would like to the places I will be staying, or carry back the empties, so I'm giving up until I rejoin society again.