Sunday, January 20, 2008

Now you're getting the idea Clark....

Shiny prizes to the first person who can tell me where that blog title comes from! (My money is on Mr Matthew "Wizzah" Wisdom for the gold)

So. What the FUCK has been up?

The last time I spoke to you all, it was Christmas Adam (Adam came before Eve, Geddit?) and I was sitting facing another delicious Christy-poos at home.

You haven't heard from me in almost a month! That's an awful long time.

My Christmas went down fairly predictably, got a decent haul of gifts and goodies. The two most awesome of which were 1) An action figure of Altaiir of Assassins Creed fame (Bought by my lovely girlfriend) 2) A Flying alarm clock (from my folks)

How the FUCK does a clock fly you ask? Well, it doesn't, but it has a ping pong ball with a propeller and a prong on top, and when the alarm goes, the ball flies off somewhere and you have to get up, find it, and replace it before the alarm will stop going off.

It's so crazily annoying!

Rang in the New Year by working, then getting in Sean's pool, then macking on my own girlfriend, then sleeping.

New Years was SO less crazy than it used to be. We all remained fairly sober. Everything wrapped up about two, then we all took ourselves off home to a comfy bed. So different from the days where we would drink two litres of the cheapest rocket fuel we could get our grubby underage mitts on and falling asleep on the ground in puddles of our own blood/vomit/semen/urine/all of the above.


How times have changed.


As this pseudo-chronological recount of the last month continues, the early parts of January have been spent working (I worked 10 closes in a row last week) and looking for a house with my cronies. Neither is going well.

Had a break from the monotony and did some bar work for this past weekend's "Summer party" in Rundle park. A venue that was graced by the presence of the one and only, Vanilla Ice (Too cold, too cold).

If anyone was wondering, His real name is Robert Matthew Van Winkle, and he has two daughters Dusti Rain Ice and Keelee Breeze Ice.

Noone was wondering. I know that noone was wondering.


It was good to be behind a bar again.


After tonights shift at work I feel the need to point out to the general public that all transactions should be completed in a sharpish manner. Imagine that the person behind the counter REALLY has to pee, because, if I served you between the hours of 8pm and 9pm tonight, I really DID have to REALLY pee.


In the same vein, if I am serving you and the phone starts ringing, I am TRYING to finalize the transaction as fast as possible so I can answer the phone. Please don't take that as an opportunity to count out your payment in change, because it WILL give me the shits.



It's my birthday in....some days, and I am truly beginning to feel OLD.

There are people my age who have real jobs, are getting married, have babies (or are having babies) and all of those things. ALL OF THEM. Make me die a little inside. I don't want ANY of that. AT ALL.

I would be quite happy to get a job behind a bar, and work there 5 days a week for a few years.

Don't even get me started on the people who are breeding early. They wind up with kids named Dusti Rain and KeeLee Breeze.


Well, me thinks he doth rant on too much.

I shall leave you now.


PS: What the mother fuck is up with that "Hey there Delilah song by the Plain White Tees. It is SO incredibly shit it makes me cry. Fuck them.

posted by Nick @ 1/20/2008 02:48:00 AM Comments: 0