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Feb. 17th, 2009


But now there's nowhere to hide

About two years ago, in early 2007, I got Kate Bush's song Babooshka stuck in my head. This in itself is not unusual, earworms happen all the time. Except Babooshka stayed in my head for at least a month and a half.

Every time I whistled, hummed, or sang without thinking first, Babooshka is what would come out. If I stopped concentrating and let my mind wander, it would immediately perm its hair, put on a gladiatress outfit and bob up and down with a sword and dodgy backlighting. It was a nightmare.

It was so much a part of my existence that it even became an on-air gag (it was back when I was 'famous', you see). My co-hosts had a grab of the song ready to play randomly at a moment's notice, just to torture me.

Anyway, after six (seven? eight?) or so weeks, the song finally left my head.

Four days ago, another song nestled its way into my subconscious, and is so far showing signs of doing EXACTLY what Babooshka did to me.

And it gets worse.

Worse than Babooshka.

The song in question is Hopelessly Devoted To You.

I don't even LIKE that song. I barely KNOW it. And yet, there I am at my desk at work, freaking out anyone within earshot when I forget myself and bust out with "IIIIIIIII'M OUT OF MY HEEEAAAAD, HOPELESSLEEE DEVOTAAAAAAAAEEEHD TO YOOOO-OO-OO-OOOOOOOO..."

At least with Babooshka half the people didn't recognise what the hell I was humming/singing/whistling. There's no disguising Olivia Neutron-Bomb.

Feb. 14th, 2009

are you shitting me?

Scenes In An Elevator

The following takes place between 10:48pm and 10:49pm in the elevator of a multi-storey car park.

The events occur in real time.


[Tophe is on his way home after an evening out at dinner. The elevator stops before his designated floor, and an extremely white guy gets on. Not extremely white as in 'albino', as in 'this guy is totally honky'.]

Extremely White Guy: Hey, nice shirt man.
Me: Oh hey, thanks.
EWG: It reminds me a lot of a jacket I own.
Me: [suddenly fearful and with extreme remorse at engaging in conversation] Oh...?
EWG: Yeah, but it's like, I don't really want to wear it out that often because it's almost like it's too money for Canberra.
Me: ...
EWG: You know?
Elevator: ding!
Me: Um...I don't wear this shirt very often, but that's just because it's a bitch to iron.
[Doors open]
EWG: Huh?
[Tophe runs screaming from the elevator.]

I am not making this up (except for the screaming - I didn't, really). The man used money as an adjective! Kanye fucking West sounds like a tool saying it, what hope did Whitey McHonk think he had? And what does it mean exactly to be "too money for Canberra"? It can't be about actual money, because Canberra has among the highest disposable income statistics in the country, doesn't it? Is he actually implying that his jacket is so amazingly, cock-hardeningly awesome that to wear it within the borders of the Australian Capital Territory would be a waste, somehow?

If anyone had told me an hour ago that there are people around who actually talk like that, I would have called them dirty great liars, with the firm belief that no one could be THAT much of a total fucking douchebag. But there he was! Standing not two feet away from me! So confident in his own awesomeness that he had no problem actually using the word 'money' as an adjective to a complete stranger!

The worst of it is that he clearly felt I was his kind of people based on the shirt I was wearing.

I don't want to wear that shirt anymore.

Feb. 12th, 2009


Service - 6/10, Ambience - 7/10, Table Equilibrium - 2/10

After the movies on Tuesday night (Ghost Town - pretty good, there are a dozen Ghosts W/ Unfinished Business movies out there, but it was a nice spin on the concept; I think I’d turn straight for Kristen Wiig); Ben and I got some dinner at a nearby café.

During the meal, a combination of condensation and a gentle sloping of the table meant that my water glass kept slowly sliding from the middle of the table to the outer corner. Of its own accord. It was amusing at first…

…until I forgot about it. And it hit the floor. Right as I was in the middle of a story that involved some kind of hand movement.

I DID NOT TOUCH THE GLASS. But all the other patrons could see was me Kermit-flailing; followed by a thunk, a splash, and a flying lemon slice.

Worst of all, it kind of went unacknowledged for about five minutes. No staff came over; so while I quickly picked up the glass (and wedged it between the salt shaker and the cocktail menu), the small flood of mineral water and ice stayed on the floor, expanding slowly. And I have no idea where the lemon slice went.

Hopefully into someone else’s Pad Thai, because that dish could have done with some damn flavour.

Jan. 31st, 2009


First Twitter, now a cross-pollination with Facebook

I'm an interweb whore!

25 Facts About Me

1. I cannot, repeat CANNOT touch cotton wool balls. Just the thought of it makes my skin crawl. If you somehow got yourself a gaping mortal wound, were at risk of bleeding to death, and needed some cotton wool balls to stem the flow; I might be able to bring you a bag of them – if I held the very tip of the very corner of the bag – but you’d have to do the rest yourself. Sorry.

2. All my dvds have to be arranged alphabetically. BECAUSE THEY HAVE TO BE, THAT'S WHY.

3. I had the first inkling that I might be gay when I was 12, although I only realise that now in hindsight. I kissed a boy for the first time at 15, but it wasn’t until I was 23 that I knew enough to come out.

4. My first name was very nearly ‘George’. My Dad’s last name is Downs, so they had an immense amount of trouble coming up with a suitable name – Benjamin, Nicholas, Neil, Robert, Mark and many others were all out, owing to the bad puns they provided (Ben, Nick, Neil, Bob and Mark don’t go well with the word “down”). They had it down to ‘Christopher’ or ‘George’.

5. I am a grower, not a shower. (Oh don’t overreact. It’s not like I’m posting pictures or anything.)

6. I like the trailers before a movie starts. If anything, I think there should be more of them.

7. I try to be funny all the time, but I think I’m much funnier in writing than I am in person.

8. I have a nervous habit of flipping things in the air and catching them. I’ve broken the sliding bits off countless remote controls, and a few phones, by constantly flipping them. Flip flip flip. It drives the people around me mad.

9. Other nervous habits – spinning cushions on my finger like a basketball – but I can’t do it with an actual basketball and jiggling my leg - it’s like Jurassic Park wherever I go because the vibrations from my leg cause pulses in any nearby glasses of water.

10. I type fast. Really fast. I once took a typing test that clocked me at 117wpm, but normally it’s around 105wpm. And yes, the accuracy is acceptable. 97%.

11. I fucking HATE IT when, upon hearing the aforementioned fact, people immediately (and snidely) ask “yes, but what’s your accuracy like? 12%, I’ll bet!” Yes, that’s right. I just wildly mash the keyboard and call that typing. I pretend to have a high typing speed because fast typists get fucking LAID, man.

12. I am one of the most unsuccessful daters I know; and have been single for a very, very long time. Unbelievable, I know – because I’m such a catch, right?

13. Despite spending the majority of my life in deserts/tropical climates, I would still rather be cold than hot. You can always put another layer on when it’s cold, but there are a finite number of layers you can take off when it’s hot. And once you’re naked, you can still be hot. Also, you’re naked.

14. I LOVE orange flavoured things. There really is nothing I won’t eat if it is orange flavoured. But I’d really rather not eat an orange itself. I mean, they aren’t bad, it’s just...meh.

15. I’m all about videogames in general, but scary videogames are one of my favourite things ever. As I’m getting older they are harder to come by, but a game that is so scary you have to pause it to have a bit of a breather? That is AWESOME.

16. I am a stickler for spelling, and the correct use of words – for example: If you are sick, you are NOT ‘nauseous’, you are ‘nauseated’. ‘Nauseous’ means you cause nausea. I know the dictionary says that, due to common misuse, either is now acceptable; but that’s just lazy kowtowing and I want no part of it. Also, there is no ‘a’ in ‘definitely’. See it there? DEFINITELY? No ‘a’ at all. Those two are my biggest pet hates.

17. When I was a child, I thought I was mentally deficient somehow because I could never see “the man in the moon”. All I saw was a fucking rabbit. WHERE WAS THIS MAN EVERYONE KEEPS FAFFING ON ABOUT? WHAT MAN? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?? I was in my late teens before I realised that the ‘man in the moon’ is a northern hemisphere thing.

18. Speaking of shattered childhood illusions, I was 26 before I found out that Maria and Luis from Sesame Street are NOT Maria and Luis at all, and are NOT EVEN MARRIED. I think that wound is still fresh.

19. For 2009, I’m taking the George Costanza approach to life and doing the opposite of whatever my instincts tell me – I won’t lie, it’s kind of working so far.

20. My favourite food is dip. Nearly all dips. I love dip.

21. Most people remember me as a huge Buffy fan; and I am – but very few know about the early, dark days, when I thought it was the most stupid fucking show I had ever laid eyes on. I thought it was just ‘Sabrina the Teenage Witch’ without a budget for decent lighting. I hated it.

22. It’s because of fact #21 that I now refuse to watch any Star Wars movies – because I have spent quite a few years sporting a hearty and public disdain for them; and am afraid that if I were to go back and watch any of them again, I might suddenly get converted. And quite frankly, I’m nerdy enough, thanks.

23. I have a thing for watches. I own 14 of them at last count, even though only four work at the moment. I really should get the others fixed. I do love them.

24. I once lived in what could be called a tropical paradise. The water was azure, the beaches were golden, the people were sparse and the seafood was plentiful. And I was miserable for nearly all of it. Not because of the water, the beaches, the people or the seafood, mind you – well actually, it WAS the people, but that’s another story. And it was a little bit of the seafood too – I was nine, and didn’t care for it. The point is I sometimes now look at photographs or holiday show segments of “island paradises” and am completely unmoved. I’ll just hang out in a city, thanks. I love cities.

25. Before I got my tattoo, I should have put a lot more care and thought into the design I wanted. What I came up with was a little slapdash – but to this day, I still love it so much, which is quite lucky. I dodged a bullet there.

Jan. 30th, 2009



It's just been made official! I'm moving permanently into the Creative Writer's position! I will have normal office hours! No more late night panelling! I get a 5k payrise (don't get excited, that moves me up from About To Go Bankrupt to Just Shy of Bankrupt - but still, woo!)! I don't have to go back to Magnet Mart (although I will miss garish orange shirt made out of a "fabric" that breathes about as much as a garbage bag - HAAA)! Hooray!

Jan. 27th, 2009


Your day is off to a dodgy start when...

...you put shampoo on your toothbrush.

The upshot is my teeth have never been silkier.

Jan. 24th, 2009


(no subject)


Jan. 21st, 2009

so mad


Another sore throat? Are we serious about this, immune system? Really? Well fuck you too.

Jan. 8th, 2009

what the frick

I Blame Inner Circle

Okay, this sweating is driving me crazy.

I don't know if it's because I'm not used to sitting with my arms by my sides at a desk for 9 hours, or because the airconditioning for this room is shot to hell, or because it's a leftover symptom from my ManCold, but I am a sweaty man right now; and have been all week.

It's not like I'm a slippery ball of moisture all over - it's just my underarms, and I don't smell (because if THAT were the case, I would have run home and locked myself in my room with embarrassment days ago); but today I have brought two shirts to work so I can change back and forth as the need arises. It's fucking annoying.

Jan. 7th, 2009

talk to food

Pirin Tablets

I have a brain-flattening headache today. Also, I'm craving a coffee particularly badly. Coincidence? I don't know why it would take seven days to kick in, though. At any rate, they're both irritating - and the one makes the other harder to take.

Mmmm, tea. And some leftover and possibly-smuggled-illegally Tylenol.

(Yes, I know it's just a regular painkiller, not unlike Panadol. But it isn't Panadol, and my brain thinks it's exotic, and the placebo-esque effects are worth continuing the charade.)

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