A Heightened State of Stress Tends to Make Me Care Less

Actually, a heightened state of stress makes me care more about a lot of things, but more don't rhyme with stress.

I am as busy as I have ever been. I have so many assignments, presentations and testing days it just ain't funny. So I am under a reaonable amount of pressure at present, which I don't really mind as it makes your brain very sharp and writing becomes a lot easier. It also makes you think more critically about things, which is very beneficial when writing a literature review but not so beneficial when applied to real life. The last few weeks have seen me become a bit of a bitter little thing. Which is kind of fun really. All I need is some Bukowski and some whiskey and life will be good. Maybe some Lou Reed too. Has anyone heard his new album Raven? I am intrigued by it, though I haven't heard it in its 2 disc entirety. It is based on the writings and life of Edgar Allen Poe, so I dare say it is a dark number with splices of sexual obession and drug abuse. And it has spoken word bits by Steve Buscemi and William Defoe, and collobarations with Bowie and Laurie Anderson amongst others. I might buy it. That or the new Lucksmiths. Hmmm, dark and bitter vs (presumably) light and sweet?

I am growing asparagus. I'm not sure why I've never planted this before. It is perennial, easy to grow, and it is damn expensive (and more often than not woody as hell*) to buy from the supermarket. I'm also growing red onion, which will be ready to pick in no less than 8 months. I am going to celebrate by making a salad. Maybe I'll have red onion in it.

*hell, contrary to popular belief, is actually a large forest. Years of responsible back burning by Meesrs Satan and Gates, the Bush's**, and that kid called Aaron from my pre-primary who used to pick on me have led to very fertile soil which encourages both undergrowth and tall timber to grow magnificently. The bad thing about hell is that you are cut into little bits and used as fertiliser (like that weird Blood and Bone stuff. Which is actually manufactured in Hell and gives the Devil a little pocket money to spend on new prodding tools and Craig David CD's. And that horn doesn't manicure itself!).

** I could have made a joke in the above paragraph about there being a lot of bushes in hell, but I chose to write it down here instead.

Word Up

I'm back in the city now. It feels good. I called in to see my Grandma on my way back to Perth this morning, and she gave me the best present ever! It is a 50 year old Webster's Dictionary, and it weighs about 5kg. It is very big and very cool.

On the subject of big things, last week I won an Easter Egg in a competition. I was expecting an ostrich egg sized Easter Egg, but it was delivered today it is more like a dinosaur egg sized easter egg. It weighs 1kg (2.5 pounds) and is about 60cm (2 feet) tall! That is an awful lot of chocolate.

In the last like few weeks or so four separate people have said I like say "like" like a lot. Which is good as I was unaware that I said "like" a lot. So I am not saying like as much anymore. Anyhoo, yesterday my Mum said to me "Terry, if you got a dollar for everytime you said "like" you would have a lot of money." I replied "Mum, if I got a dollar for everytime I said "like" I would say it a whole lot more often."

As anyone who watches the Simpsons would know, water goes down the tap in different directions in the Northern and Southern hemispheres. So what would happen if you were washing water down a sink while flying over the Equator? Would it start spinning one way, then stop, then spin the other way?

Finally, here is a list of Google search terms that have led poor internet surfers to my little site (if you have stumbled upon this page while trying to find someting else I am not sorry at all really).

1. candy; violet crumbles (have i mentioned i like violet crumbles?)
2. Atychiphobia- Fear of failure (hmmm, that would be one of my introspective posts then)
3. lucksmiths indie cool (what can i say?)
4. whisper sweet things in my ear + oldies + lyrics (hmmm)

In a bid to get more visitors from now on each of my post's will be brought to you by a series of words. Today's post has been brought to you by the words porn, naked, sex, hot lesbian jelly-wrestling action, watch hunky nude men lick peanut butter off each other, peanut butter and jelly sandwiche, and the numbers 9 and 6.

Average Friday

I am down on the farm for a few days to spend Easter with my folks and brothers. It is nice so far, 'cept I have a reasonable amount of uni work to do. Bah.

Last night I went to a quiz night with my parents, little brother, and two of my parent's friends. It was a crazy electronic quiz night with multi-choice questions and instant scoring! There were 3 rounds and our table won 2 of them, both on the last questions of the round. Talk about nail-biting, I was chewing quick (boom boom). My finest moments of the night included guessing the year of the Chernobyl disaster (1563) the country which Greenpeace started in (Persia). Sure I was wrong both times, but I was spectacularly wrong, and that is so much cooler than being a little bit wrong. The correct answers are 1986 and Canada by the way. My lowlight was being able to name an Alice Deejay song AND a Savage Garden song. I also knew that a ship's engineer is called the Ship's Husband. We won a lot of toffee and easter eggs and mugs and crazy alcoholic pears.

While driving down south on Wednesday night I was listening to the best mixtape ever (aka Alex's Sinister Valentine's Day Mix) and singing loudly to Pulp's Underwear (I don't know about you but images of me singing to Jarvis' undergarments are popping into my head). My window was down, and because it is quite rare for a passenger to have their window down I kept on singing when a car pulled alongside me. It was only after about a minute or so of the car staying right beside me that I glanced across and saw that all the passenger's (4 girls in their twenties) had their windows down and were being entertained by me belting out a song about seeing people semi-naked in somebody else's room. I went redder than a really red thing, the girls laughed and sped off. I wound up my window, ate another fantale, and started singing again. Singing in cars is great.

Sleeping in

This morning I missed my lecture because my alarm clock woke me up at a really exciting part of a dream and I just had to know how it ended. I find that if this happens you just have to think about what just happened in your dream and then try and go back to sleep. That worked for me this morning, and the ending was well and truly worth going back to sleep for. Is it wrong that I feel perfectly justified in missing a lecture because of this? Sleep overrules everything in my world.

The real-life antics of the wisecracking*, donut eating, smartarse* DS Loverock are still going on, butt when he cracks the case you'll be the first to know. If you assk me, there may be a sinister post in it.

*Has anyone else ever noticed that wisecrack and smartarse, when taken smuttily and literally respectively, mean essentially the same thing?

Loverock Rides Again

Stay tuned folks, cause tomorrow Terry turns in to his alter-ego Det Sgt Loverock to solve a real-life crime!

Oh Happy Day or Jokes About My Terry Boyle Name

music i am listening to while typing: the colours and the birdsongs are one and the same - fonda 500, sonnet no. 3 (Like A Duck) - mc honky,

Well gosh darn if I haven't had a very nice yesterday and today. My Honours Proposal is as good as finished, my supervisor even said so. Yay! I have the best friend in the whole world in my cute little Canadian girl, the sun is shining, my scarf is half done and looking super cute, i have gardening to do on the weekend, i thought up the funniest thing ever (more of which later), and i am about to go shopping and maybe buy clothes! I am floating in a cloud of euphoria.

There is one thing, however, that is denting my happiness. Yesterday I found out that my family has a sworn enemy. It traces all the way back to the Dark Ages. Anyone who shares my surname has been brought up to fear and despise this person. Who is this mysterious person that all Boyle's fear? Why it is none other than Sir Lancelot, Camelot's greatest knight.
If you have no idea what the hell I am talking about then check this out and it may become clear.