| |- Friday, February 28, 2003 -| |
|
orazzio @ 12:11 AM #
| |
Channel Ten SERIOUSLY?
I hate to write off what is the better of the commercial networks but I am sick of this shit. Australians love to slag Americans (yes people of the USA its true) yet they suffer from precisley the same shortcomings. Complete and utter insular arrogance. I've said all this before so on to the trigger. It is a small arm but I am blowing lots of shrapnel.
All day the news breaks and news on Channel Ten kept highlighting Newcastles championship victory against winless bayer leverkewson. Now the network never covers the championship league and wouldnt even bother posting the best team in the world on their pitiful screens for two seconds come cup day however they have no problem showing a half ass low life pommie shit team when they win a game. Fortunately this only occurs on total eclipses.
We had a day of news breaks and then a full 3 minute highlight package of the game while the leaders of the group who played at precisely the same time werent mentioned nor were any of the other 14 teams in the competition 6 of which have either already entered the finals phase or are in a position to do so.
It is clear that Italian soccer and Spanish soccer leads the world followed by the germans then a further gap back to the dutch then the portugese, turks and poms. Who gives a flying fuck about the poms? They are a second rate teams from a second rate country and our media laps them up.
I could accept it if the other leagues even got mentioned, but they dont. Arguably the two best teams in football played today in FC Barcelona and Inter Milan but no mention. Roma got a standing ovation in Valencia in the same competition for playing some of the best football of the year but again no mention.
Would you wathc Channel Ten Seriously?
.:
orazzio
:.
|
|
|
| |
| |- Thursday, February 27, 2003 -| |
|
snorky @ 11:07 PM #
| |
It seems there is a bit of a blogging crisis on the internet. The blogging bubble has burst. There are now so many bloggers that blogging isn't new and exciting anymore. Some bloggers are burning out just trying to keep up the postage to hits ratio. I feel that i'm burning out since i've started to work on some other projects in my life. On the one hand I want to come and go here as I please but on the other I feel this unwritten duty to blog. If the quality is lacking then people don't respect your work. So from that sentence you can derive that i've never found that people respect me, why.. well because I lack quality I guess. How do I feel about this? Not much at all as I wouldn't have started this blog if I cared too much what people think.
I'm glad Orazzio is around to add quality to this site and pick up my slack. I wish I had some motivation to do amazing and interesting things. I wish I could make everyone happy. Now that ain't gonna happen is it. So i'm left with writing about crap that means nothing. Like i'm doing now.
I've been trying to source new hosting and between Angel and myself we've found some pretty sweet deals. I'm going to try to relocate this website and rename it soon. Hopefully by then i'll have an ounce of motivation to help me putter along. Then again, I may not do anything. I usually plan one thing and do another.
Last saturday night I went out with the Sydney Cave Clan again. I packed up my trusty AU$28 K-mart inflatable boat and foot pump then headed out.
First stop was one of the oldest drains in Sydney. It was messy and wet. I didn't care. One end of it was also quite smelly but nobody died, so that was good. After that we went to a place called "Blowjob 2000". This is a stairwell in between two active rail lines that when a train goes past causes a huge amount of air pressure to build up and nearly bowls everyone over that is in the stairwell. Sounds crazy doesn't it. Well it is. And so i'm I. O_o!
So the final stop was what the inflatable boat was all about. It was an abandoned / half finished train tunnel about 500m long. Each end was blocked off with a 5m stone wall of sorts. The first 100m of the tunnel was dirt and rubble. It's better known as the "Inflation Area". Everyone rolled out their boats and began inflating them. 10-15 mins later one by one we moved down to the last 400m of the tunnel. This part was filled with water. We placed our boats in the water and set sail (there weren't actually any sails). It really is a strange feeling to be floating through a train tunnel. Even stranger to know that not a lot of people knew about this hidden tunnel. So we all floated around for about an hour or so. It was quite relaxing actually. I was wet and dirty and a little tired but I was definately content. I'm never usually that content.
After this the deflation period begain and the boats were repacked. A friend I went with and myself ended up walking back to my place. I was heeps thursty and he was hungry. So we made a pit stop at McDonalds. It's the only food place open at 4am in the morning (yes it was a long night). So here we both are. Dirty, wet and tired. We looked like a couple of bums. We got to McDonalds and found that it was mostly full of people leaving the local "cool" clubs and night spots. Everybody was in "Glam" mode looking all pretty and stuff.
*My mate eyes one of the fine ladies*
*He stops before walking in*
Snorky: "Hey. Are you coming in to order or what?"
Mate: "No. I can't. I'm too dirty."
Snorky: "Hello! So am I. Come on just come in."
*Mate looks at fine lady again*
Mate: "Seriously dude. I can't. It looks like i've got shit stains on my arm."
Snorky: "Yeah.. that's because you have! It's nothing to be ashamed of."
Mate: "Fuck you. Here, i'll give you some money. I'll even pay for your drink."
*Snorky thinks "cool free drink"*
Snorky: "Fine. What do you want."
Mate: "A large quarter pounder meal."
Snorky: "Ok. Back in a sec."
I entered McDonalds and it's at this point I realise how dirty I am. I seriously do look like a street bum. Eh! Whatever. It was so cool. I got served almost instantly. I'm guessing they want me to leave asap but not before they get my money. So here I am looking like a bum. I figure i'm going to use the most elegant posh voice I could.
Assistant: "May I take your order sir?" (like she's going to say anything else)
Snorky: "Why actually, you can. May I have one of your large quarter pounder value meals and..."
*Snorky stops to consider add ons, holds chin*
Snorky: ".. one large Coca Cola and.... that shall be all for now thank you."
*Snorky receives order with a few quizical looks*
Assistant: "Thank you sir. Enjoy your meal."
Snorky: "Well lets hope I do my dear."
*Snorky receives disapproving grunt when brushing past someone on the way out*
Snorky: "Here's your freakin' meal. Lets get outta here, this place stinks."
I finally got to bed a little after 5am. In my opinion, it was a good night. There were no fights, I didn't have to be concerned about my looks, I got some good exercise, My ears weren't ringing from loud music nor was my throat sore from trying to talk over loud music, I enjoyed myself and it only cost me AU$28.
Not bad, not bad at all.
Places to go:
Brilliant editing of Bush's speech
This is a resampled version of Bush's State of the Union address. Classic shtuff! (You'll need Quicktime to play this)
Bush love song
Another funny one. Bush sings a love song to Tony Blair. (You'll need Quicktime to play this)
.:
snorky
:.
|
|
|
| |
|
orazzio @ 3:11 PM #
| |
Simplicity of man
I remember having an intimate encounter with a girlfriend many years ago. I spent an extra-ordianry amount of time caressing her and kissing the nave of her neck and generally tending to her every whim. Eventually I found myself at her breast still pleasuring her unintereuptedly.
I lifted my head to kiss her and found her welling with tears. "What's wrong?" I asked with the greatest of concern.
I do not remember her reply exactly but it was something like "Why dont you ever pleasure me?"
Seeing as I had just spent the last hour pleasuring her I reminded her that I had been.
It seems unlike girlfriends of my past she wasnt aroused by the kissing of her body and certainly not of her breast. She was unfeeling and was looking for something different. Here I was expending so much effort into pleasing her and she was lying there thinking how selfish I was being. Two opposing interpretations of the same action.
Women are rarely sexually satisfied for two reasons. One) The physiological difference and responsiveness of females mean that men will rarely hit the mark. They are often unable to distinguish one female from another. Two) Women are ubable to evaluate themselves sexually.
The complications mean that women may never climax, rarely climax or may take until they reach their 50s and encounter hormonal changes may introduce climax. I would too much space to go into the differences and reasons for these differences in women but that is my point. Women are physically very very different. Their sexuality is unbelievably complicated and their bodies are often biological metaphors for their brains.
The same can be said for men.
How is it then that men must telepathically understand a new female partner. Men are simplistic. If its soft stroke softly. When hard, stroke hard. Orgasm gauranteed. Females have a clear visible response to their actions - a guidestick if you like.
Men are power drills. They have an on button a large visible bit that works when when you press on. Their are many makes and models but this fundemental principal never changes.
The female sexuality, like many of their personalities are conceited and complicated. Women are a cosmetics store. A million different brands and products claiming to be the same and barely distinguishable by their boxes.
Some are face lifting creams. Some are face lifting lotions. Some are face lifitng day creams. Some are face lifting night creams. Some are face lifting day/night creams. Some are face lifitng day lotions. Some are face lifting night lotions. Some are face lifitng day/night lotions. Some are face lifting eye creams. Some are face lifting eye day creams. Some are face lifitng night creams. Some are face lifitng eye day/night creams, some are face lifitng eye creams with retinol......
I could fill an encyclopedia with my little knowledge of these products. Like the womens magazines that these items are advertised in, they proclaim to have all the answers however you will find none. Not on facial creams and not on sex. Why?
Why?, because women rarely understand themselves or the product. Certainly they commonly do not know much about their needs about their particualr conditions or what in fact they are trying to treat. They do however spend hundreds of dollars slapping it on anyway in the hope that something works. These are often called boyfriends or husbands.
Some women go into the stores and without any regard for their hygeine and milk the testers for whatever their worth. These are often called sluts.
Its interesting to me that neither of the above groups (and I'm being general and categorical as always) get it right.
There is alot to learn when you have a store full of possibilities as a sexual women and you have no place to blame men for sex until you can be honest about what they are doing wrong. Further to this you need to steer him towards your specific needs by telling in some fashion wether its hinting verbal or physical guidance.
Of course because of the diversity of women, females can also (rarely) be very masculine in that they are almost need the simple act for a couple of minutes to arrive at their screaming satisfaction. But 99% of you have a lot more travelling to do and should really consider what you need in order to get where you want to go.
.:
orazzio
:.
|
|
|
| |
| |- Wednesday, February 26, 2003 -| |
|
orazzio @ 1:03 AM #
| |
Sluts
Why are the women of my home land such sluts? I was watchign a Leo Sayer concert this evening (terribly unfashionable I know, however he was a favourtie of a by gone era and indeed Id like to listen to him again as I would much of the maligned music of past) and it struck me how I could tell what country they were in just by their tarty slutty pathetic motion. They way they (can't) swing their hips and propel themselves around in an almost emasculine posturing that could only come from these native horrors.
Eeeeek. Get me away from these people.
.:
orazzio
:.
|
|
|
| |
|
orazzio @ 12:57 AM #
| |
The rinse cycle.
You go through life experiencing many trials and tribulations. You endure the hardship of the 'wash cycle' as you circulate through lifes conventions. For years all the good stuff dissapeared. All the stuff I used to love. The feelings I felt and the people I felt them with/for. Of course that carefree time never does repeat. They are the best days of your life. But I am finding that these people and some of these events are returning to my life. That while I spent all my life trying to find true happiness, that I had it at that very point I started looking. I relished every minute in a world where everybody was your friend and the planet a playground where- you could go as far as you could run. You could go outside and fun into enough people to fill a team for a football game. I played and prentended and learnt and loved. Everything was an event that had nowhere near the kind of energy I could expend on it. An impersonation or a jungle gym could have you laughing and playing for hours.
Then all of a sudden you are alone, walking around a house full of material things, you have a pile of money three cars and you cant remember the last time you laughed. If you walked outside you would fine darkness, a few lights and perhaps a suspicious neighbour peering through a window.
Well now I feel like Im on the 'rinse' cycle. Life is not as oceanic as the wash cycle but it does bathe in a little more of lifes tumbles and turns. My friends creep back in. The games (however organised) are a part. The learning is back , the experiences, the new friends. Life is not really a playground but it has got some rides.
I guess I found someone and it made happy. And at that point I could have everything else back.
"and so we row forth, the currents receding from the horizon our backs born to yesterday..." A poor interpretation of F Scott Fitzgerald I know but I am too lazy too look it up.
.:
orazzio
:.
|
|
|
| |
| |- Monday, February 24, 2003 -| |
|
orazzio @ 2:12 PM #
| |
Proof
Hans Blix asks Colin Powell,
"What proof do you have that Iraq has weapons of mass destruction?"
Powell replies "We kept the receipts."
.:
orazzio
:.
|
|
|
| |
| |- Sunday, February 23, 2003 -| |
|
orazzio @ 12:58 AM #
| |
There is just too much to blog about
The world is too expansive, the minds day tripping too convoluted and experiences too rich in possibility for any sensible entry into a web log such as this. There is so much to say, so much to record, so much to theorise about that I choke at the point of writing.
Like life, each day and in fact each moment has an endless number of possibilties and revelations and anti - revelations with a frightening amount of consequences.
As in a draughts game, (or checkers for you good ol boys) each action contributes to a new set of possibilites with no ability to return or gain retribution. We can only deal with each alternative future as it presents itself to us in this ongoing uninterupted game of life.
.:
orazzio
:.
|
|
|
| |
|
|
