pirates, karaoke and a splash of dry-red'

Last night was fun.

Luke had a gathering and 7 or 8 of us shown up. We kicked the night off with a crap, erm brilliant, Pirate film - a jolly good musical set in the dream of an 80's bikini babe, featuring pirates and policemen. Next up was an awesome real-life beavis/butthead sort of film titled 'Napoleon Dynamite'. All the while we were merrily drinking; mine's a lager and glass of wine, Garcon!

A string of short comedy sketch shows followed the films, including classics such as 'The Young Ones' and 'Peep Show'. Not long after these ended it was nearing the last train, meaning that a couple of the group had to bail. The remaining people decided karaoke would be a good call to round off the night. I totally agreed.

So, the karaoke began. And the drinking continued.

Karaoke rocked, I really love it though I'm absolute shite at pitch, remembering the words and singing in general. However, my singing seemed to be getting better as the night went on: a bizarre see-saw effect as the wine level in my bottle deplenished.

But alas, my singing was too good - or should I say, my brain was dying from alcohol poisoning, rendering my cat-like wails into angelic harmonies. At that point I decided it'd be a good idea to quit drinking, though it was too late: my fate of oncoming toilet-hugging was sealed. The next hour or so aren't so clear - the only images I can vividly recall contain a sickly stream of crimson vomit as I hacked up the once delicous wine from my defiled stomach, before deciding luke's bog would be a decent bedroom, and the toilet itself a decent pillow (which it was).

I woke up at about 5am, had some water and decided it'd be a good time to bail. Not far from Luke's house I collapsed, again. This time in someone's bush. I spent maybe 10 minutes in the bush, collecting my thoughts, and fortunatly not sharing any of them with it.

A few dry wretches later and I was set to go. I got home at about 6.20am, chatted with my dad for a bit, had a burger then went to bed.

A good night out. Minus the overdrinking. Never again. At least Until dinner, which was 8 hours ago.

PS, whilst at my dad's house I found a pile of golden oldy pics, including the following one that ties in to this post in an ironic, future-predicting sort of a way...

Doggy Heaven? I hope so ><,

My dad's dog, "Tess", got "put-to-sleep" yesterday :'O( I didn't want to blog it, but I think that it's respectful to do so looking back to all the meaningless, uneventful things I've commented on in the past :/

Tess was a pretty rad' dog actually. One of those mutt's that's rescued from the RSPCA, you know the kind of mongrel that comes with as much emotional baggage as it does fleas? He had it about 8 years and treated it awesomely, before fate struck with a hefty blow of cancer to it's front shoulder. The vet said, as they often do, that nothing could be done, just a matter of waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for the inevitable, now there's a cliche :/

Anyway, the waiting ended sometime yesterday. My dad seemed pretty upset on the phone (havn't seen him yet). He's buried her in his parent's back garden.

Tess, 199?-July 2005 :'O(

Camping/Dan's 19th

I spent last night drunk in a field on the top of a cliff.

It was my friend dan's 19th birthday on friday, so 12 of us decided to chill-the-fuck out on the cliff top in an epic bout of camping.

The night began with a few rounds of American footy. I throw like a girl and catch like a one-handed Jeremey Beadle, but still it was fun.

Shortly after this we broke out the 'Wild Shot' - a fucking beast of a 3 man catapult. As ever, harmless fun was had by hurling heavy objects into the unseen horizon..which soon evolved into childish foolery. Harris took a hit:


Following which we swarmed the fire. Aided by laughter, beer and..erm..some ganja, the night flew by. Good fun.

A decent night indeed. The morning wasn't so pleasant: Fending off an angry farmer on a hangover isn't the best way to start the day ><,

---
on an unrelated note: happy 50th to my mother! ..i mean, happy 25th part 25 ^^,

Nicotine Rush..

"you know, I'm trying to quit these" she stated, gesturing casually with a near-empty pack of ciggerretes clutched loosely in her right hand. The faint hum of background chatter entertained the scene. The strong scent of coffee filled the air and a stray wisp of pale grey smoke from the girl on the next table danced gracefully above.

"..I've wanted to quit for ages. I just can't. I wanted to tell you that" she informed him. "my weakness, huh?" she added. Pre-occupied, he missed the point of her outpour.The thin flume of smoke filtered out all traces of colour and depth from the scene, reducing it to a flattened greyscale of its' past-self. He remained silent, waiting for the moment to pass. She assumed silence, waiting for him to acknowledge her struggle - a shrug, a grunt, anything. Nothing.

Driven by the awkward silence, she began to caustiously fumble the rectangluar box. The fumbling quickly twisted into an anxious shaking. The shaking esculated into a staccatto beating as her free hand tapped rythmatically against the half-empty carton until finally she could take no more: The lid exploded open as she flicked it back with the thumb of her right hand. She swiftly extracted the second to last ciggarrette and rushed it to her pursed lips. Her right hand darted clumsily within her pocket, frantically searching for a lighter. She soon located the lighter and thrust it up to the ciggarrette balanced between her lips. The harsh gritty sound of the churning flint-stone polluted the quiet scene as she repeatedly attempted to spark up. A sound gritty enough to suppress the calming background hum and sharp enough to cut through the veil of smoke, yet still unable to break his fixation on nothingness.

"hah, I guess I won't be smoking tonight.." she informed him, humouring the situation. She tossed the empty lighter onto the table, slumped back in her chair, and reached for the ciggarrette trapped in the corner of her closed lips. Instinctivley, he reached into his chest-pocket and extracted a lighter. He raised it to her mouth and flicked back the flint-stone. A spark emerged and a flame soon followed. The flame maticulously carressed the ciggarrette for a brief moment before dissapating into the invisible silence. A dim, orange glow suspended itself upon her lips- the only reminder of the flame's existance. The dark orange soon twisted into a brilliant sunburst yellow as she inhaled, sucking back the calming vapours of the lit ciggarrette. She held her breath and reclined back into the chair. Her hands rested peacefully upon the table. Her pains were soothed, her tension smashed.

"..last one, ok?." she gasped before reaching up to grab the ciggarrette as she expelled the smoke from her mouth. But before she could do so, he plucked the sparkling ciggarrette from her lips and drove it into the ash tray, pounding the glowing orange to a charred black stub.

"yeah, last one." he aggreed.

"you know, you're fucking wierd at times..." she said with a tone of genuine interest. "fucking wierd".

***
Nothing to do, thought I'd write something. Based on an event in a cafe not so long back. She was was a non-smoker, though....
**

The Humerous-Pain of Realisation...

Tadaima! Just returned from a most triumphant band practice - all went well and we managed to nail a further two songs: U2's Vertigo and The Foo Fighters Best of You..admitidally not quite to my musical taste..well far from it, infact, but still, awesome to jam out to ,,, ^^, We're sort of upping the gear now as we're booked for a gig on Aug' 13th...in my back garden. Naturally you're all invited, and naturally there'll be beer and a BBQ ^^, Oh, and an 'adult bouncy castle' (that's what it's labelled as, how much does that rock?!).

I've been doing a lot this past week. Well a lot in the sense of not a lot, yet seemingly much, at the same time as doing something but not quite anything, in a sense, sort of.

I've learnt how stupid an idea it is to pull up to a roundabout in order to let your friend get out to chase the rabbits that live upon it. I've spent a decent day out with some girl I hadn't seen in quite some time. "some girl" he says. Some girl, indeed. I've become addicted to collecting seeds from assorted fruits. And growing them. Now I have 11 pots with baby watermelon in. And 9 baby apple trees.

man, if you can boil your week down to a small collection of unlinked, pointless facts you know you need to get out more.

Printer-Girl..

Whilst in Japan I met a rather unusual girl: She was an American English professer, late 20's and was in Japan on a project to study the Japanese author "Haruku Murakami". Oh, and she was carrying a A4 computer printer around with her. See, I didn't label her as unusual for nothing.

I'd read one of "Haruku Murakami's" books in the past and so was able to strike up a meaningful conversation (admitidly this didn't last long and the subject soon turned to something useless..). But anyway! During this conversation she highly highly reccommended a book. I made a mental note of the title, and decided I'd check it out when I got back. However, I soon lost my mental note and so had no idea on which book to get..and actually had no intention of getting that book even if I could recall it's name.

..skip forward a week, and jump 200 miles south..

So, I'm enjoying my time in this new city, just hanging out and doing nothing in particular when I spot her - it's printer girl! I immediatly shout her over and start chatting about how good this place is and how strange it was to bump into her - she agrees fully and soon diverts to her beloved conversational theme of books. During which, she mentions the book "Kafka on the Shore" (again), and (re-)iterates how I should read it when I get back to the UK. I make another reminder note, this time with a pen in my notebook, fully intending to check it out when I get back.

Anyway, big up the relavance! I was bored shitless sometime last week so went up to the library and managed to get a copy of this book. I finished reading it today and was pretty impressed. It follows the path of 2 main characters, and is structured in alternating chapters: one's a 15 year old runaway, intent on finding his mother, and the other's a 60-odd year old guy who can talk to cats. The two characters are linked in numerous ways and their paths intertwine heavily, yet they never meet. The overall theme of the book seems to be about the importance, no, necessity of memories..I think. Read and and see what you reckon. Though it's really quite bizarre and is extremely non-linear..minus the intentional linear parts, of course ;)

There's a phrase in the book: "Even chance meetings are a result of karma", which is quite an ironic statement in regards to how I heard about the book (both times). Though I must ask, what the hell did I do in a past life to 'earn' this meeting?! must've been something bloody cool, like building stone-henge or something. Yeah, that must be it.

check it out if you're ever bored - I'm just sorry that you had to hear about it from some boring guy on the internet and not the lovely yet eccentric printer girl in the heart of Japan.

Lukes 20th

Argh! No longer a teenager! The Fozzer's turned 20 ^^, congrats dude!

Yeah, went to Lukes 20th bday yesterday night - such a cool time, thanks a lot for the invite ^^, The night's BBQ rocked (WOW! cooked meat, and at a bbq of all places?!). And it was excellent to meet new people as well as meeting a few guys/girls I hadn't seen in some time (varying lengths of!). A lot happened, though my memory fails me after committing to my 2nd beer or so..haha ><, Regardless, the night progressed bloody fast, though, and before I knew it it was time for myself and 2 others to bail (sadly, we had to leave early!).

As a welcome to manhood, yours truly presented Luke with a fine gift indeed: A vodka-themed, greeting-engraved, saussage-cherry-cheese-bearing water melon. Sounds wierd? Well it was ^^, Strangely, and I jest not, I dreamed this magnificint beast up on sunday night - well that's my only explanation: I woke up monday morning knowing I just had to make, nay, build one! And build one I did!

I forgot to take my camera, but hopefulyl I'll get some from some other party-goers! until then, here's a pic I took of mega-melon before heading off to the party. (c. B Fox July '05).

peace out ..\/, ^^,