She's a Bachelor
I want a girl with a mind like a diamond
I want a girl who knows what’s best
I want a girl with shoes that cut
And eyes that burn like cigarettes
Cake, 'Short Skirt Long Jacket'
Max finished her exams on Wednesday. Since she's far too smart to go around wondering whether she passed anything (mostly it's just wondering whether she got a higher distinction or the Nobel Prize) she now qualifies for one of those degree things. Although I feel compelled to remind her that I have two of the things, especially as she's talking about getting an MSc in a couple of years. Still, anyone with the will to study units as crazy as that Medical Genetics one deserves a medal, as well as a degree. Too many arbitrary, unconnected facts. Hypocholesterolaemia, chronic myloid leukemia, haemochromatosis, papillary thyroid neoplasias. Primary risk factors include eating icecream, and learning the names of the disorders.
Congratulations babe.
Snivelling Wretch
The Path is the Mask of Love;
Away, away ...
The Flow is the Task above Today
There is no Other Way
(you gotta trust us!)
Captain Beefheart, 'Trust Us'
Came across something I'd held onto for reasons of nostalgia yesterday while engaged in a whirlwind cleanup. I thought I'd reproduce it here for the amusement of all:
LETTER OF APOLOGY FOR YOUR BICYCLE
I have written in to apologise to the inconvenience caused to you during the loss period of your bicycle.
As I was unsure of the law withstanding in Western Australia, I thought that the "finder's keeper's" theory applies here. However, I did try to seek for the bicycle's owner (what is you) by cycling it to University nearly everyday since last July, hoping that I will bump into you one day. I felt now that the method that I had chosen was rather inactive.
Secondly, I will like to apologise for not revealing the truth when confronted by you that day. The main reason was that I was feeling afraid and hence at that moment of time, I was behaving abnormal.
Please be ensure that I am also eager to find the bicycle's owner. In fact, I was wondering everyday when you will see me and stop me. If that happens, I will gladly hand the bike over. Also, I will like to re-emphasize that I found your bicycle by the bushes and not by unlawful methods. If so, why will I have cycled it to University nearly immediately after I have found it?
Thousand apologies for the inconvenience and emotional distress that I have caused all these while and I hope that you could let out a sign of relief now that your bicycle has been recovered.
Sorry for all the inconveniences.
Yours sincerely
---
Surely, no theft would be worth such crawling? I will treasure this letter forever.
Exeunt
I'd like to leave the country,
For a month of Sundays,
Burn the town where I was born!
On Sunday morning I'm flying out of this country on Malaysia Airlines for a month of touring in Cambodia and Vietnam. The last couple of days have largely been occupied with making the final preparations for the trip. Personally, I've always enjoyed it more when other people have done these things for me. I don't like having to think about things like insurance.
I keep saying to myself 'it's going to be the best thing I've ever done' and on some level I'm sure it will be, but at the same time I'm becoming increasingly apprehensive about disasters major (leg blown off, contraction of paralytic wasting disease, taken hostage by terrorist group) and minor (the runs, getting ripped off by a smelly, unpleasant hotelier) that may transpire during the course of the trip. I have this feeling that a transformation into an unpleasant statistic is pending, somehow. But at the same time, I keep thinking 'Piles of human skulls! Best thing ever!' and that is no small comfort. Not only that, but when I get back into town it will be in anticipation of a week or so down south, which will be the perfect unwinder.
Hope you'll all remember my name when I get back. And Chas, email me your phone number in Mt Barker if you want to come and see Return of the King with me and Max while we're in Albany after Christmas. I think it'd be novel. Well, based on, anyway.
Apotheosis
Not really an appropriate word, but a good one at least. The last thing to mention in this disordered heap of events past, present and future is the completion of my own degree. Eventual completion. Handed in my thesis about three weeks ago today. The 12,000 words I had to write in the last week before the due date would probably qualify as the hardest work I've ever done. I punched in considerably over one hundred hours from Monday morning through to Sunday evening, which is a sweatshop workload, but instead of rolling cigarettes to kill Western dogs, I was listening to the same soundbite enhanced forty-nine different ways and then describing the results quantitatively (with bollocksy graphs and tables) and qualitatively (with bollocks in its pure, verbal form). Read like Hemingway in the end, not.
I have also been told unofficially that I got higher distinctions for all my second semester coursework, which I found surprisingly gratifying, almost as if I'd received an overdue renewal of my membership in the winners' circle after a bizarre Australia Post screwup. Although I'd be far from astonished if they miraculously transmuted into ordinary distinctions or credits at the last minute. Or fails. No! It shall not be.
So, off to get a job, snicker.
In other news, good luck to anyone getting baptised in the next couple of days. I hear people are. Don't catch a cold!
I want a girl with a mind like a diamond
I want a girl who knows what’s best
I want a girl with shoes that cut
And eyes that burn like cigarettes
Cake, 'Short Skirt Long Jacket'
Max finished her exams on Wednesday. Since she's far too smart to go around wondering whether she passed anything (mostly it's just wondering whether she got a higher distinction or the Nobel Prize) she now qualifies for one of those degree things. Although I feel compelled to remind her that I have two of the things, especially as she's talking about getting an MSc in a couple of years. Still, anyone with the will to study units as crazy as that Medical Genetics one deserves a medal, as well as a degree. Too many arbitrary, unconnected facts. Hypocholesterolaemia, chronic myloid leukemia, haemochromatosis, papillary thyroid neoplasias. Primary risk factors include eating icecream, and learning the names of the disorders.
Congratulations babe.
Snivelling Wretch
The Path is the Mask of Love;
Away, away ...
The Flow is the Task above Today
There is no Other Way
(you gotta trust us!)
Captain Beefheart, 'Trust Us'
Came across something I'd held onto for reasons of nostalgia yesterday while engaged in a whirlwind cleanup. I thought I'd reproduce it here for the amusement of all:
LETTER OF APOLOGY FOR YOUR BICYCLE
I have written in to apologise to the inconvenience caused to you during the loss period of your bicycle.
As I was unsure of the law withstanding in Western Australia, I thought that the "finder's keeper's" theory applies here. However, I did try to seek for the bicycle's owner (what is you) by cycling it to University nearly everyday since last July, hoping that I will bump into you one day. I felt now that the method that I had chosen was rather inactive.
Secondly, I will like to apologise for not revealing the truth when confronted by you that day. The main reason was that I was feeling afraid and hence at that moment of time, I was behaving abnormal.
Please be ensure that I am also eager to find the bicycle's owner. In fact, I was wondering everyday when you will see me and stop me. If that happens, I will gladly hand the bike over. Also, I will like to re-emphasize that I found your bicycle by the bushes and not by unlawful methods. If so, why will I have cycled it to University nearly immediately after I have found it?
Thousand apologies for the inconvenience and emotional distress that I have caused all these while and I hope that you could let out a sign of relief now that your bicycle has been recovered.
Sorry for all the inconveniences.
Yours sincerely
---
Surely, no theft would be worth such crawling? I will treasure this letter forever.
Exeunt
I'd like to leave the country,
For a month of Sundays,
Burn the town where I was born!
On Sunday morning I'm flying out of this country on Malaysia Airlines for a month of touring in Cambodia and Vietnam. The last couple of days have largely been occupied with making the final preparations for the trip. Personally, I've always enjoyed it more when other people have done these things for me. I don't like having to think about things like insurance.
I keep saying to myself 'it's going to be the best thing I've ever done' and on some level I'm sure it will be, but at the same time I'm becoming increasingly apprehensive about disasters major (leg blown off, contraction of paralytic wasting disease, taken hostage by terrorist group) and minor (the runs, getting ripped off by a smelly, unpleasant hotelier) that may transpire during the course of the trip. I have this feeling that a transformation into an unpleasant statistic is pending, somehow. But at the same time, I keep thinking 'Piles of human skulls! Best thing ever!' and that is no small comfort. Not only that, but when I get back into town it will be in anticipation of a week or so down south, which will be the perfect unwinder.
Hope you'll all remember my name when I get back. And Chas, email me your phone number in Mt Barker if you want to come and see Return of the King with me and Max while we're in Albany after Christmas. I think it'd be novel. Well, based on, anyway.
Apotheosis
Not really an appropriate word, but a good one at least. The last thing to mention in this disordered heap of events past, present and future is the completion of my own degree. Eventual completion. Handed in my thesis about three weeks ago today. The 12,000 words I had to write in the last week before the due date would probably qualify as the hardest work I've ever done. I punched in considerably over one hundred hours from Monday morning through to Sunday evening, which is a sweatshop workload, but instead of rolling cigarettes to kill Western dogs, I was listening to the same soundbite enhanced forty-nine different ways and then describing the results quantitatively (with bollocksy graphs and tables) and qualitatively (with bollocks in its pure, verbal form). Read like Hemingway in the end, not.
I have also been told unofficially that I got higher distinctions for all my second semester coursework, which I found surprisingly gratifying, almost as if I'd received an overdue renewal of my membership in the winners' circle after a bizarre Australia Post screwup. Although I'd be far from astonished if they miraculously transmuted into ordinary distinctions or credits at the last minute. Or fails. No! It shall not be.
So, off to get a job, snicker.
In other news, good luck to anyone getting baptised in the next couple of days. I hear people are. Don't catch a cold!
