New comedies at the ABC.

New to Wednesday nights on the ABC: Bromwell High at nine-thirty, and Seven Periods with Mr Gormsby at ten.

And they're both high-larious. And a little risque. But good. And to top it off, Teachers comes back tomorrow night too. Sense a trend? Only three more years until I'm a teacher myself. And in a state school of course. I wouldn't have it any other way.


Listening to:
Title: At Last
Artist: Eva Cassidy
Album/station: Time After Time (2000)
Length: 2.58

Gloomy Sunday morning.

Thunderbolts and lightning,
Very, very frightening me.

Bah. Wales, 24, beat the Wallabies, 22. So close. If only that last conversion attempt went a few degrees to the left and between the posts. Ahh well. So that wraps up the Wallabies' Spring Tour. We'll do better next year. We can't really do any worse, can we?

Meanwhile, Tuesday week's episode of Degrassi: The Next Generation on the ABC might be worth seeing. It's entitled 'It's Raining Men' - named after a song, like the rest of the episodes which I reckon is pretty classy. Recently outed character Marco goes on a date with college jock Dylan. OoOoh.

And to think-- they screen this stuff on ABC Kids? Where's the 'no-lesbians-on-Play-School' brigade on this?

Listening to:
Title: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy
Artist: Queen
Album/station: Greatest Hits [Parlophone] (2004)
Length: 2.56

Musings at Macquarie Centre.

So I went to Macquarie Centre today for the first time in yonks with a view to getting a new pair of shoes. Ah, the hang-out of my youth. Instead I spent way too much on underwear. You know, underwear being the piece of clothing often overlooked by lads the nation over. Nothing's hotter than seeing a set of chiselled obliques peeping up over the wasitband of a good pair of undies. Drool.

At one stage I happened to be in the Gay & Lesbian section of Borders (ohmigod, how lame) when this, umm, lanky but cute seventeenish looking skateresque lad approached. He saw me standing there and went a shade of pink. Then he went away. Naww, I'm not that scary am I? Anyway, he came back about five minutes later and perused the shelves for a while. For aaages. But then-- get this-- then he went straight for the Einstein for Dummies on the adjacent shelf instead. Riiight. Did you really want to know about the work function of zinc? Or were you really after the gift book on Gaydar? Eh, punk?

Also, spotted at Woolworths: teenager surreptitiously purchasing condoms - slowly examining products from the deodorants and analgesics all the way up to the prophylatics and making a quick getaway after snaffling the goods, and a buff gym bunny comparing tins of cat food.


Listening to:
Title: Bouncing Off The Ceiling (Upside Down)
Artist: A*Teens
Album/station: Teen Spirit (2001)
Length: 3.14

Paid for services rendered.

I got my first pay slip from Faceless Corporation^TM today. It's more peanuts than dollars, but beggars can't be choosers I suppose. How depressing. I'm only but a minion now.

Also, I've been too lazy to do my hair recently so instead I've been wearing a trucker's hat. So now I'm a trucker hat-wearing minion. It's a Triple J one at least, so maybe that still leaves me with a little credibility. Maybe.

Meanwhile, I think I've seen all of the episodes of S Club 7 In Hollywood. Oh dear. How sad. Damn Nickelodeon. I suppose while I'm damning Nick, there are a few things that I feel need special recognition: Drake Bell (gorgeous but a little on the unripe side), Zoey 101 (just bad) and What I Like About You (tragic, but I love it).

Listening to:
Title: Have You Ever
Artist: S Club 7
Album/station: Best: The Greatest Hits (2003)
Length: 3.21

Novocastria.

I think I've found the ultimate in pub food. There's this place up in Newcastle called the Crown & Anchor Hotel, on Hunter Street. And I noticed on their menu the following item: beer-battered fries. Yep, potato, in Stella Artois-batter and deep fried. Alas, we thought it was a bit much and passed. But maybe next time.

My best mate Adam and I went on a little bit of a day trip up to Newie yesterday. We both had days off from work and we decided to head north for the day. The place is not what one would expect from New South Wales' second city. In the middle of a week day, even around lunch time, the main street isn't exactly bustling with activity (of course, the local Chamber of Commerce's plan to boost business in the area is to close the railway line from Broadmeadow). Lots of cute lads about, though.

In other news, a boy who was in the year group below me at school (and my uni now, too) came out to me the other day. I knew I couldn't have been the only queer at my school! You know, sometimes I wonder what it would've been like to be in a queer clique in high school. You know, minus any homophobia. Or bitchy-backstabbingness. But only sometimes, mind you.


Listening to:
Title: Dreaming [Utah Saints Mix]
Artist: Blondie
Album/station: Beautiful - The Remix Album (1995)
Length: 6.21

Wallabies: rock on.

Australia, 30.
Ireland, 14.
Lansdowne Road, Dublin.

Dear Drew Mitchell,
I want to sex you good and slow - once for each of the tries you scored tonight.
Gaga for you,
Mikey.

Made it home in time in the wee hours of the morning to see the Australia versus Ireland match on the Seven Network. And the Wallabies finally broke their losing streak. Squee! You know, not that I had any doubts or anything.


Listening to:
Title: One Kiss At A Time
Artist: Boyzone
Album/station: Where We Belong (1998)
Length: 4.06

Full & unfit.

Dad took me out to lunch today to this fish and chips place on Major's Bay Road in Concord. Best fish and chips. Ever. Beautiful fish in excellent batter. Fresh battered prawns and calamari rings. Battered scallops. Battered mussels. All the best seafood in battered form, really. And the thickest potato scallops I've ever had. Now that's another place to put on the to-do list for 2006: A Food Odyssey, a pet project between my best mate Adam and I.

The two of us are men of modest tastes, and we're aiming to explore the culinary world of the corner fish and chip shop, the local pub and the Chinese takeaway place on the high street. Even the kebab place down the road. We want to sample the offerings from all the food outlets in this city which are often overlooked. And yes, we're starting a food blog.

In other news, the other day I bought a new rugby ball to replace the one that went sailing over the fence and disappeared a couple of months ago. We took it down to the park today and kicked it around. And well, judging by today's efforts, I've discovered how unfit I've become.

Right. I hereby proclaim that henceforth, this coming summer will be known as the Summer of Mikey. But unlike the Constanza-esque Summer of George, there will be no Frolf, nor any fruit juice dripping down my chin. There'll be running and jumping like a silly bugger. And I might even try to fulfil that posuer pipedream of mine and get back on the skateboard again.


Listening to:
Title: Tony's Theme
Artist: The Pixies
Album/station: Surfer Rosa (1988)
Length: 1.52

Crankypants.

I have a small case of the grumps. I don't know why, nothing's really set me off. I'm just feeling a little bitter about unspecified things. It could be hormonal. I could be having some sort of man-period. Or not.

I buggered up a couple of times at work tonight. Ah well, that's a shame. We're going to have a few customers with their crankypants on. Luckily I won't have to deal with it. I'm a model employee, aren't I? So responsible and service oriented. Buy shit from me!

And you know, since uni's finished, I've felt a little useless. There's a big hole in my life at the moment. There aren't any assignments that I've got to do. No essays to write, nor any lab reports to finish. There's no pressure at all. And maybe I need a little pressure. Like those deep sea fish that survive at the bottom of the ocean but then die when you bring them from the murky depths up to the surface.


On a much much lighter note, Queerpenguin Sam was kind enough to list In Another Life in the "back-slapping, I-love-youse-all" edition of his weekly SX column. Rock. On.

So while the love is being spread around, I thought I might indulge in a little bit love-spreading myself. Erm... yeah. Gah! I know you're thinking it. Get your minds out of the sewers and into the gutter with the rest of us.

So here we go.

Jeb and Adam. They've been together for yonks. Yonks I say! One's into his beer, metal and footy the other one likes trying out new martial arts moves on the former. See, there's a healthy level of rough and tumble in their relationship, it seems. I mean, the roughest I've ever been with a lad was the occasional tickle fight. None of the boys I've had the pleasure of dating have had the slightest interest in, I don't know, tackle rugby. Because gosh, I'd love to take one down. On the field of course, in the full spirit of sportsmanship. Hmm. Notice how I turned this whole paragraph into a thing about me instead of about them? That's no good.

Tottyworld. What more can I say? It's a world of totty. That sums it all pretty well, I think.

Dawei's House of Debauchery and Beeyotching. What's with blogs and their titles being strangely descriptive of the content therein? Dawei's House indeed contains much debauchery (tastefully, yet frankly portrayed, of course), as well as much beeyotching. That's what the internet needs more of: witty beeyotching!

evijhserf. He's an American ex-pat from London, living in LA. Yes, it does make sense; he's an American readjusting to life in America. Meanwhile, check out his mash-ups and mix tracks, under the psuedonym DJ Jonny Moirée.

People Who Need To Be Glassed. As the tag line of this group blog declares, "everyone featured on this site requires a fucken glassing". Absolutely hilarious. Often offensive though, but bugger it. Never fails to elicit even the guiltiest of chuckles.

Sydney Spy. Sydney and Sinny Yooni, as viewed from odd angles and often with amusing consequences. Clueless as to what to do with your Casey Donovan CDs? Sydney Spy has all the answers.

I'd love to go on, but I think I'll leave it there for now.


Listening to:
Title: Stop
Artist: Spice Girls
Album/station: Spiceworld (1997)
Length: 3.24

Second-rate bloggery.

Ty the hot supervisor boy was back on the job tonight. Drool. On first impressions, you'd think that he's too pretty to be straight, but no, he really is straight. Le sigh. I love it when he says my name. Shame he's leaving in a couple of weeks, too. Just my luck, he's leaving just as I'm starting. Is there no justice?!

Also, a two of the girls at work fancy me. Well, at least I think they do. Sorry ladies, as nice as you both are, I don't swing that way. Meanwhile, watch my head inflate!

I was going to go to the National Day of Action this morning but I slept in. How selfish of me to choose sleeping-in (the first Tuesday sleep-in since July!) over political expression. Ah well.

Also, I'm a touch mentally exhausted. So no quality blogging. However, there was an insightful opinion piece on Intelligent Design in today's Herald: How design supporters insult God's intelligence. That is, ID as peddled by those DVD toting fundamentalists. Might opine on the matter later.


Listening to:
Title: Nancy Boy
Artist: Placebo
Album/station: Once More With Feeling (2004)
Length: 3.19

Sunday night musings.

The Flying Spaghetti Monster touched me with his noodly appendage today. For at work, my normal trainer was away sick and she left me with A SUPER HOT SPUNKY BOY trainer. Completely lickable.

Id leff mee veek at zee kneez. He voz zat hot. So hot I'm forced to speak/type in a bad German accent. Okay, I'll stop.

EDUF2007 exam tomorrow. One hour. Twenty-five per cent of total mark. Push. Over. And of course now I've jinxed it. Bah! Ahh well.

In other news, Danna Vale MP, a Lib, wants to bring Hicks home. She might be a bit of a dill sometimes, but at she can think for herself instead of toeing the party line.


Listening to:
Title: Shades Of Gray
Artist: The Monkees
Album/station: The Definitive Monkees (2005)
Length: 3.20

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

Did I mention that someone has gone against all sense and given me a job? I know, I can't believe it either. Mikey finally has legitimate employment. Mikey and all his incompetencies.

I discovered something today that really, really irks me: people who pound the buttons on their calulators. In my PHYS2013 exam today, the girl sitting at the desk next to me would punch the keypad on her calculator with way too much force. It was a little disconcerting. I don't know, maybe it's her stress outlet. Nonetheless, I'm surprised the thing survived the exam.

Or really, it could just be me. I'm not sure if anyone else has a problem like this, but when faced with a reasonably high pressure evironment like an examination, I think look for excuses to be distracted. Hmm. Can't be healthy.

Amongst other doings, today is Remembrance Day. Of course, mainly it's the anniversary of the 1918 armistice. But it just happens to be the anniversary of Gough's Dismissal. Everyone has an opinion on him and well, here are my two cents. I'm one of those people who think he was great. Gough had a progressive vision that many in today's Labor Party lacks. Ah well.


Listening to:
Title: Don't You Want Me
Artist: Alcazar
Album/station: Remix Heaven, Vol. 2 (2003)
Length: 3.25

No, your mum is a title.

Evidently, the "your mum" insult is still alive and well in the vocabulary of our young people. You know what I mean:

Boy One: That maths exam anally arse raped me in the butt.
Boy Two: No, your mum anally arse raped you in the butt.

Erm, well no, that conversation I eavesdropped on during my train trip yesterday didn't actually mention being anally arse raped in the butt but it would've been funny it had went that way. Dopey kid, that Boy Two. (Incidently, the anally-arse-raped bit actually came from Pat after the physics exam on Tueday. Heh.)

In other news, The Government gags debate on more legislation. Makes a mockery of the Parliament, really. You know, for a place with a name that derives from the French parler ('to speak') and parlement ('discussion'), not much of it is going on. They should just go ahead and rename for what it is - the House of Coalition Wankery.

Also, a bunch of people want to deport naturalized Australian citizens if they're convicted of terrorist offence. That's a typical reaction, isn't it? "Lets send them back to where they came from".

Sure, we were generous and gracious enough to give them the opportunity to be Australian, but once we've done that, they're our responsibility. If an Australian breaks Australian law, they should be tried in the Australian judicature and if found guilty, should be dealt with in an Australian penitentiary. We can't just wash our hands of them when it suits us.

If we allow such expulsions, we effectively create two classes of citizens: the natural-born and the naturalized - one set we have to deal with here, while the others we can simply send away. It goes against everything Australians allegedly stand for. You know, 'egalitarianism' and all. Although if you ask my fellow countrymen about problems so commonly associated with 'new Australians', a few of them will probably say send them back, which in my view is disgraceful. We're all once class of citizens in this country, each with equals rights to be here.

In any case, where are we going to send them away to? Who will take them in?


Listening to:
Title: Two More Years
Artist: Bloc Party
Album/station: Lunch / Triple J 105.7FM
Length: -.--

The second excited eigenstate of the breath mint is not high enough to overcome the potential barrier of garlic sauce.

You know you're a nerd when you start talking about normal everyday things in jargon terms from your respective areas of expertise. It happened to me several times today.

We went to a kebab shop on Glebe Point Road for lunch after sitting for the PHYS2012 exam. Drool. Best. Kebab. Ever. Yes, good kebabs do exist. But yes, as good as garlic sauce tastes, it hangs around like a bad smell. Erm-- yeah. So we passed around the mints and gum and, well, I'm glad I chose the half strength garlic sauce. The full strength stuff is ghastly. And no number of mints can get rid of it.

And here's the nerdism. Nik made the comment that the walls of the garlic sauce potential well were infinite, and no energy eigenstate of a mint is high enough to overcome the potential barrier, nor is it possibly to quantum tunnel through its walls. Oh dear.

Another instance of jargon-speak came up in a conversation I had not long after. I asked someone if they'd bought an iPod Nano that he'd had his heart set on, and he replied quite sullenly:

"No, the Supply Bill was blocked in the Senate."

Boom tish (reference to The Dismissal, the thirtieth anniversary of which, incidently, falls on Friday).

Meanwhile, I've been watching Midnight Oil's 1985 Goat Island concert on ABC2. Now that's another one of my favourite bands that I'll never see play live. Hmm. Peter Garrett hasn't changed very much at all. Of course, now he's the Member for Kingsford Smith instead of the windmill-armed rockstar of twenty years ago. I'm still not sure how Alex is taking his defection to the ALP - Alex being an avid fan of the 'Oils and also a hardcore Lib voter. Ahh well. Must suck to vote for John.


Listening to:
Title: Dreamworld
Artist: Midnight Oil
Album/station: Diesel And Dust (1987)
Length: 3.36

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

Yep yep. Hopefully I'll pass second-year chem and never have to deal with university-level chemistry ever again. From now on, the only chemistry I'll ever have to deal with will be in a high school science lab, and the hardest thing I'll ever have to do is a measly titration exercise. I think I could handle that.

The exam today didn't seem too bad. But I did still skip a fair few questions. The whole experience was a little odd, though. The overriding emotion I felt during the three hours was apathy. There was no pressure and I didn't feel the need to beat the clock. None of my characteristic anxiety. I mean, I spent half the time drawing on the data sheet or colouring the S-, P-, D- and F-blocks in the periodic table in different colours.

Ah well. Celebrated the 'occasion' with a five-dollar steak at the Lansdowne. Can't be beat. So that lifted my day by a significant margin. After some discussion over lunch, we've decided that I may join Barsoc (which Pat likes to refer to as Cocksoc, as in cocktail society) and get certified, vis-a-vis RSA/RCG. Both Pat and Simon tend bars, and well, sometimes I feel out of the loop when they start with their bartending shenanigans. And plus, I'd love to work in a bar.

Anyway, tomorrow I face PHYS2012 Physics 2B: Quantum Physics and Electromagnetic Properties of Matter. Fun times.


Listening to:
Title: You Can Touch
Artist: Crowded House
Album/station: Afterglow (1999)
Length: 3.46

Sunday night musings.

I feel guilty. I feel guilty that I'm only learning enough to pass an exam rather than to further my own knowledge. And that disappoints me. Maybe over the summer holidays, when there won't be any pressures from assessments and the like, I might read over a few things and figure it all out. Maybe.

In other news, the Wallabies lost to France this morning, AEDST. Unfortunately I wasn't awake to watch the game, so I didn't get to see sexy Drew Mitchell score a try.

While on the topic of hot rugger buggers, I also want to sex All Black Daniel Carter. Treason? Maybe. But he's just so hot.


Listening to:
Title: Khovanshchina: Dawn on the Moscow River
Artist: Mussorgsky; West Australian Symphony Orchestra
Album/station: Life Is Beautiful with ABC Classic FM (2005)
Length: 5.32

In preparation for next week.

A Saturday not spent down at the local, but in my room. Of course, it wouldn't be so bad if there was another person in the room with me - a person of hot-boy extraction maybe. But no, I'm on my own. With books. And you can't kiss books. You can't even sexily leaf through its pages and lead it to the bed with a view to having hot sex. Well, not unless you're one of those odd people with a fetish for bound paper. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I digress.

The very experience of studying for exams is depressing. I can't concentrate when there are others around; I get distracted. But then I feel so isolated in my room on my own, or where ever I am really, and the anxiety sometimes overcomes me. It's a lose-lose situation.

I researched and wrote an essay on anxiety for EDUF2006 last semester so, you know, you'd think that I'd have some insight into maybe rectifying the situation when it occurs. But no, it's like an electric potential well that some poor electron has fallen into. Oh dear, a quantum physics analogy. See what it does to me? Bah.


Listening to:
Title: Turn A Square
Artist: The Shins
Album/station: Chutes Too Narrow (2003)
Length: 3.12

Odin's Day.

So I'm furiously finishing two organic chemistry lab reports that are due tomorrow. It serves me right, really. You know, after a week of inaction and all. One is for last week's failed synthesis of 5,5-dimethyl-1,3-cyclohexanedione, and the other is for a tris(ethylenediamine)nickelate(II) chloride-two-water thingo from week ten of semester, which isn't even organic chemistry. I'm glad I'll never ever have to do any of this shit ever again. Unless I fail the unit. But we won't think like that.

I spoke to my high school physics teacher today. It turns out that she's retiring at the end of the year, which is a shame. I don't know anyone better to teach physics at my high school. Funny how just as I'm starting on this career path - the one I chose, possibly due in part to her influence - she's is ending hers.

In other news, how much of a bugger was today? The Government introduces its ridiculous new industrial relations reforms, and then we're told that we have a serious terrorist threat on our hands.

I can't begin to say how much PM John Howard and his band of merry men and women give me the shits. So they introduce their IR 'reforms' to the Parliament, stifle debate on it, and don't even distribute enough copies to go around to each of the members of the House. And then Tuckey has the gall to blame it on one of the Labor members, who allegedly took them all, single-handedly. Totalling around sixty copies. At 687 pages each. Cock.

And call me cynical or whatever, but I can't help but be a little skeptical about this supposed terrorist threat. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see on that one.

I think the thing that shits me more is that I live in the middle of the Lib belt, stretching from safe Mackellar to marginal Greenway (where Mum lives, incidently). And in John Howard's electorate, no less. The tide is changing of course. At the last election, JHo didn't get a majority primary vote and had to go to preferences for the first time ever. I hope we get to vote him out before he retires. That'll be satisfying.


Listening to:
Title: Radio Ga Ga
Artist: Electric Six
Album/station: Senor Smoke (2005)
Length: 3.32

Senate Estimates Committee: Senator Joyce vs. Queer As Folk.

So, National Party Senator Barnie Joyce has a problem with Queer As Folk on SBS TV. A snippet from Monday's hansard of the Environment, Communications, Information Technology and the Arts Legislation Committee for Senate Estimates (Shaun Brown is the Acting Managing Director of the Special Broadcasting Service Corporation):

Senator JOYCE— ... There seems to be a range of examples of things that make it onto SBS—and, being a father of four kids, yes, I know we should put them into bed early at night—that would not make it onto other television stations.
[...]
Without making any assertions about it—I will just read this anyway—on Queer as Folk, which is on at 10 pm:

In tonight’s episode, there is a hot new stud at Babylon and Brian immediately targets him but is amazed when the guy rejects his advances and he won’t accept the fact he’s been given the brush-off because that would mean facing his advancing gay mortality. Michael and Ben are proud of how Hunter is handling the backlash at school, but when Ben goes to school to attend Hunter’s debate, he discovers what has really been going on for Hunter. Emmett is a success at Channel 5 but Brian’s claim that he’s just another sexless fag for ratings leaves Emmett with second thoughts about his TV role. Since having plastic surgery, Ted now looks like a hot stud. His extreme makeover has given him confidence and when a lover from his past passes by, Ted takes the opportunity to pay him back.

Does that sound like the sort of thing that my children and someone else’s children should have access to?

Mr Brown—It is shown at 10 o’clock at night, which I think would be commonly regarded as an adult viewing time. It is preceded by warnings and it is officially classified MA so that it can be shown. It is a program that would be shown in other countries around the world. There is a British version of Queer as Folk.

Senator JOYCE—But is that how we rate things now—that if it is shown in other countries around the world then it is acceptable?

Mr Brown—No. I really only mention that to say that it is not exceptional as being shown here in Australia. It does beg the question of course whether or not Australia should suppress content that is shown elsewhere around the world.

Senator JOYCE—I do not care whether it is two blokes or a bloke and a girl. Either way you put it, it is a dynamic that implies explicitness, even in just how you advertise it.

Mr Brown—The explicitness will be reflected in its classification. I think if you watched it you might form a view that the classification is not inappropriate, not for 10 o’clock at night.

Via digeratemil.


Listening to:
Title: You Are Not My Friend
Artist: Frenzal Rhomb
Album/station: A Man's Not A Camel (1999)
Length: 3.26

All Saints' Day.

Is it wrong that a part of me (a fairly substantial part of me) wanted Makybe Diva to lose?

Anyhoo, the procrastination continued today. Watched Parliamentary Question Time on ABC TV again. I cooked lunch. Wrote up my resumé. And lied on it. Several times. Mum's house is not an environment conducive to work or study. I've been conditioned to associate this place with chilling out and bludging, seeing as I usually spend my weekends and holidays here. Ah well, such is academia.

I mowed the lawn today too, Ryan Carnes style. Not that I'm comparing myself with His Royal Hotness Sir Ryan or anything. Now that's a nice piece of crumpet that I wouldn't mind spreading some jam on. Heh, how deliciously wrong.


Listening to:
Title: I'm Not In Love
Artist: 11cc
Album/station: Ministry of Sound: Chillout Sessions, Vol. 5 (2004)
Length: 5.16