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Some people call me the space cowboy

Actually, no one calls me the space cowboy. No one calls me the gangster of lurve. No one even calls me Maurice.

Very occasionally though, I have been known as The Joker.

You see, inside me there’s this streak toward pranksterism… and when I get an idea for a gag it starts to consume me… and before long I’m sniggering like a cheeky little kid as I work out the details. I’m not one of those annoying people who is always pulling predictable, old gags - you’ll find no crazy string, whoopee cushions, or plastic dog turds in my arsenal. I take some pride in the fact that I at least try to be original.

While that urge is always there, I supress it 99.99% of the time…. but there’s one day each year where I get a golden opportunity to excorcise my prank demons. That date is fast approaching.

Owning a couple of very busy websites, you can appreciate my capacity for evil is considerable. Bigger audience = more fools on the first day of the fourth month, and consequently, many more gut laughs for yours truly. Over the last week I’ve stolen a few moments to come up with a short list, and I think I now have a prime candidate for this year’s gag. While there is NO WAY I am going to reveal specific details to you, lest I be outed, I will reveal a few of my tips for a successful April fool’s gag.

Firstly, make it almost believable. One of the best ways to do this is to come up with a story based on some recent piece of news or current affairs - leading peple to think they already know some background. Secondly, fabricate evidence. This year I will be using a photoshopped picture to back up my story, but in the past I have quoted non-existant experts, or supllied bogus facts and figures. Thirdly, push people’s outrage button. Nothing gets people more fired up then when they think something is ridiculously unfair, overly bureaucratic, or opportunistic. If possible, combine the three. Finally, let the fools do the work. Once you’ve sown the seeds of dissent, stand back and watch them latch on to the story. Wait for the outraged letters to the editor, the gails of protest, the relentless cries of unfair play!

I’ve seen some pretty good April fool’s pranks over the years, but what about you? Are there any that stick in your mind as particularly funny? Have you ever set up an April Fool’s prank? Have you ever been sucked in by one?

C’mon… fess up!! ;)

fashion victims

Back in the early 80’s, something bizarre happened in the world of bogan fashion. An item of clothing hitehrto unknown became adopted by certain segments of the bogan community - the Llama Jumper.

It’s impossible to try and unravel the series of events that might have lead to such an improbable garment being adopted, en mass, by a subculture who largely prides themselves on not being fashion victims. “Look at the fuggen yuppies” they’d jeer, berating them for their Calvin Klien and Armani wardrobes.

But by 1985 the Llama jumper had taken the bogan world by storm - to the point where it was almost impossible to get into a Jimmy Barnes concert without one. This huge demand for an imported, natural product, created a myriad of opportunities.

Peruvian farmers and later, domestic breeders, rode a wave of Llama infatuation, virtually unknown in countries beyond the outer suburbs of Australian capital cities. But within one year designer versions of the product hit the shelves, and as bogans’ much loathed fashion aware enemies began wearing them, the death knell sounded for this wholesome, warm, honest, garment.  Those in the industry though, became the real fashion victims.

By the end of 1986 the now fashion awakened bogan market were tired of the Llama jumper, and they began looking for a new type of fashion apparel that didn’t look like fashion apparel. As the Trenchcoat and the Bomber jacket trotted in, all full of their own importance and showey, streewise arrogance, the Lllama jumper quietly shuffled away…. possibly forever.

It seems odd to me that so much fashion from the early 80’s has been revived in recent years - most of it undeservedly so. Kids are standing at bustops in Duffel Coats again, teeny boppers queue at MacDonalds wearing pedal pushers and carrying buckle bags over their shoulders. I am noticing skinny ties with white shirts in slightly alarming numbers.

So why, amidst all of this fasion recycling, has the Llama jumper been overlooked? Once revered for it’s warmth, earthy odour, and natural resistance to insects and rodents, why has it not jumped on the 80’s nostalgia bandwagon?


It’s a question that has troubled me somewhat recently, and one that is unlikely to be answered easily. Perhaps as the lines between the “uniforms” of different subcultures become blurred, the desire to fit in becomes less pressing. If you look a bit like a skater, or a surfer, or a homeboy, you can still be a bogan at heart. Maybe nowadays the tribe you belong to is not so clearly defined by what you wear - or maybe fashion is now more transient and fickle than ever, and everything is both cool, and uncool, hip… and grossly outdated at the same time.

I am sure that sometime in the future, a new generation is sure to once again discover the earthy texture, the mild but relentless  itchiness,  and the sheer, uncompromising brownness of the Llama jumper. 

And I will drive past bus stops and laugh at them.

Just as their grandparents might have done… 

Time wastin’ Tuesday

TWT? I WISH!!!!!

12 hours solid today… 850 lines of code… absolutely NO time wastin’ pour moi. I’m paying the price for surfing far too much over the preceeding 3 days. The good news is I have about 7 posts in draft, all nearly finished… and the barely much awaited musical A - Z as requested by no-one in particular.

You can see all these LEFT JOIN ON’s have toasted my mind, huh? 

That was TWT. How was yours?

sunday morning…


life is…

wild

hard to play

so cheap

cruel, never kind

what it is

what you make it

2 good 2 waste

a mystery

a fantasy

a minestrone, topped off with parmesan cheese

a rollercoaster

a long song

a highway, and I wanna ride it all night long

a Cabaret, old chum

a dancefloor ( if god is a DJ )

a moment in space when the dream is gone

one big road with lots of signs

peachy

gonna kill you

worth living

what happens to you while you’re busy makin’ other plans

just a party… and parties weren’t meant to last

quite absurd…

…and death’s the final word

wrong side of the fence…


Once in a while the tourist hype gets just a teensy bit of real life encouragement. 
This little guy was about 100 paces from my back door… and suburbia…
 


Time wastin’ Tuesday

I am now paying the price for taking 4 hours off to go surfing this morning ( no surf here… had to drive )  and expect to be working until laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate.

So that was Time Wastin’ Tuesday ( morning ;) ).

How was yours?

a new day… a new week

I wonder what will happen?







weekend discussion - know your enemy

Back in year 9 I made an enemy of a former friend named Farley. When I say made an enemy, it wasn’t so much a case of me chosing him, but him me. One day a bunch of us were out play wrestling on the school oval at lunch, as pubescent boys with exploding hormones are wont to do. It was s’posed to be fun and games, but I remember looking up after pinning Farley to the ground, to find a fairly large crowd had assembled. They figured it was the real deal, so I quickly lept up and indicated we were just messing around - but it was too late. Farley’s ego was severely bruised, and that very day he swore revenge.

The next few months were unfomfortable to say the least, as Farley continuosly taunted me and tried to goad me into fighting him. At lunchtimes he’d follow me with a small pack of feeble minded groupies, yelling abuse and often sending one of them to push me in the back or elbow me in the ribs. Finally one day I caved in, and accepted his invitation to three rounds behind the Demac. I didn’t want to fight… but I was a nervous wreck by that stage and figured I might as well let him beat the crap out of me and be done with it. Mercifully, he dropped me with one sharp jab to the stomach, and not the face as I had expected. His ego restored, Farley strutted off while I rolled around on the gravel gasping for air. Balance restored.

Later in my life I would come across people who treated me poorly, or were grossly dishonest or decietful, or even physically violent toward me. Yet as odd as it might seem, like Farley, I never considered these people to be enemies. In my mind they had the problem, and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps it was the impersonal nature of it that dulled my reaction, but in all honesty, I didn’t feel these people deserved the honour of being called my enemy. I trusted that in some way, their poor treatment of me, and others, would eventually come back on them. They would die alone, hated, wasted. I wrote about one such person - my year 10 maths teacher. The fact he ended up blowing his brains out nicely illustrates my point, and re-enforces my faith in some sort of cosmic justice.

At this point in my life I have several people I dislike, but really only one person I consider a true enemy. I base that on his deliberate dishonesty, deciept, two facedness and a genuine, ongoing campaign to discredit me and two business ventures I am involved in. If I really wanted to, I could put him put of business in a week… all I’d have to do is jump into the gutter alongside him. But being the sentimental idiot I am, I have “ethics”, and “repuation”, and would prefer the satisfying win of clean fight over the hollow victory of a dirty one. It will come, and I’ll make sure he knows it.

What has me thinking about all this though, are very recent events involving a former colleague and freind. For a few years now I have essentially worked as a free agent in a specialised industry sector, with only a handful of major players. I significantly helped a freind become one of those players, but in the process saw the freindship come undone. I no longer have any personal or business involvement with him, so by default I am now 100% aligned with another player…. who as it just so happens is his sworn enemy. To make it clear… I did not choose this stuation, and throughout maintained ( and continue to maintain )  professional confidentiality in regard to internal working of both organisations ( which I know intimately ).

This week for the first time, they were open not only in their criticism of him, but their intention to crush him as a competitor. Lines have been drawn in the sand. He is considered their enemy as much as they are considered his. You can imagine how strange this feels to me - having essentially built the infrastructure on which his business sits… but being paid by his sworn enemy, who seek to destroy it. The strange part is, despite his betrayal of me as a freind and confidant, I do not consider him an enemy. I cannot deny his existence, but I refuse to acknowledge it in my life. It’s unsettling… and I do not see it getting any easier in coming months…

When people talk about enemies, I wonder what events transpired to create such vicious animosity. Are some people more prone to becoming, or making enmies? Do some people collect enemies, like some sort of trophy? Are people that you once had some sort of alliance with, or loved,  the most likely people to end up becoming enemies? If this is so, what does it say about human beings?

And what of your enemy? Have you ever had one? Do you have one now? How did it happen?

I’d really love people’s thoughts on this one. :)

in your face public transport!

I got a car!!!

And that’s SIX shamelessly blokey posts in a row! 

That’s a record!!!

( tumbleweed rolls by )