I'm Just Being Honest
Our club night last night was a raging success, there were loads of people and the atmosphere was great. And there was a steady stream of dancing people from about 9 til the end. Lots of compliments, lots of people asking when the next one is, lots of free drinks, and about five invites to parties afterwards. As per usual I DJed from 8 til 9ish, then again from about 10:15 to 11:15. During the second stint I felt completely happy, it was one of those all too rare experiences when you can completely soak in the atmosphere and just live in the moment. I think it was pretty much the most enjoyable thing I've ever done. I think all the work and stress of organising the night and spending hours putting up posters makes it all the more enjoyable too. And getting to play Belle and Sebastian, the Beach Boys, The Lucksmiths and a plethora of other great bands loudly makes it nice too. As does 4 pints of free beer...And having friends there is really great too, especially people I don't hang out with nearly enough.
this morning i was still feeling totally excitable and in a good mood, then I went to the beach and played frisbee with Joel which was good fun too. But I kind of came down from my success-induced high throughtout the day and I feel pretty shitty. I always feel bad on Australia Day. Patriotism pisses the hell out of me, it is an ugly ugly thing and shouldn't be celebrated with money wasting firework displays and tacky fake tattoos. Much better to stay in with an overwhleming sense of loneliness and a severe need to have a good cry. That pisses the hell out of me too, when you really need to cry but it just doesn't happen. I also need some cuddles but they're a long way off. Literally. what did make me cry recently was listening to "The Man Comes Around" by Johnny Cash. If that song doesn't make you shiver then you're probably not the shiverin' type. This post is gonna get completely rambley right now, I can feel it in my fingers. the song is really sad anyway. a not sad song is the avalanches remix of I'm a Cuckoo. It features tribal drumming and the Melbourne Sudanese choir! Keong got it off soulseek or somewhere and played it last night. It is extremely good, it has such an innocent carefree joyous feel. It is hard to describe.
I'm enjoying being able to read the newspaper thoroughly each day, it is nice knowing what is going on in the world. wesley clark for president, mark latham for prime minister (he's still a dick but a smaller dick. i could have phrased that better), and tony blair (and most Australian Liberal MP's and US Republicans) should be forced to dismantle and eat weapons of mass destruction. Peter Beattie (Queensland Premier)pisses me off. So does Matthew Reilly (author of bad novels). He wrote an opinion piece in the Australian about what young Australians should do. He even quoted Pink to appeal to the kids. It was fucking stupid anyway. I don't think anyone has any idea what the hell I'm going on about do they? I can always tell I'm going on and on when paragraphs become but a distant memory. Actually I can always tell I'm going on and on.
That seemed like a good time to start a new paragraph. I think archery would be a nice sport to learn. it seems quite peaceful, and no one gets hurt or anything. clay shooting too, though i guess with guns involved there always the chance of stray bullet action. and i guess stray arrows could cause some take an eye out acton. if you laughed then you need help. trying to hit things seems to be the way i want to go.
frisbee is always a lot harder than I remember. it seems so simple but it rarely is. the think i dislike but kind of like too is when the frisbee is coming straight for you, and you're like "i am gonna catch this so easy", but then it gets a little higher and moves away from you and you're like "hmm, I'm gonna have to move here, but i'm still catching this baby. i might even go for some tricky catch moves, so confident am I of my ability to trap this frisbee with my bare hands". Then the frisbee is like "you just think you're so good don't you terry, with your pointless views on world politics and your fancy catch plans. well take this!". At this point the seemingly innocent frisbee becomes quite contrary. it may appear to be gliding elegantly through the air, but in actuall fact it is beign controlled by the frisbee gods. or some punk kid with a remote control who follows me everywhere, but lets leave my schizophrenic tendencies out of this. the frisbee is still, it seems, catchable. i move in its direction. it moves away. i speed up. it too speeds up. i begin to run. it begins to descend. through what can only be described as forces greater than nature, the frisbee mimics my every move to remain just out of reach, butremains tantalisingly catchable. i think "oh you big tease, you're just playing hard to get. i'll get you in my hands soon". the frisbee thinks "for god's sake can't you take a hint. just leave me alone!" by this stage i am nothing short of desperate. i break into a full blown sprint, but the frisbee continues to keep me at arms length. then, suddenly, the frisbee crashes into the sand, taking my dreams of some diving left handed between the legs fancy catch action with it.
one of my favourite jokes is this: "Why did the cosmonauts get into space first? Because they were always Russian". It rarely gets laughs.
I'm going to end now. I don't feel like crying now, and my sense of loneliness has gone from overwhelming to annoying. and my headache has turned into a tummy ache. that's what i call progress.
Our club night last night was a raging success, there were loads of people and the atmosphere was great. And there was a steady stream of dancing people from about 9 til the end. Lots of compliments, lots of people asking when the next one is, lots of free drinks, and about five invites to parties afterwards. As per usual I DJed from 8 til 9ish, then again from about 10:15 to 11:15. During the second stint I felt completely happy, it was one of those all too rare experiences when you can completely soak in the atmosphere and just live in the moment. I think it was pretty much the most enjoyable thing I've ever done. I think all the work and stress of organising the night and spending hours putting up posters makes it all the more enjoyable too. And getting to play Belle and Sebastian, the Beach Boys, The Lucksmiths and a plethora of other great bands loudly makes it nice too. As does 4 pints of free beer...And having friends there is really great too, especially people I don't hang out with nearly enough.
this morning i was still feeling totally excitable and in a good mood, then I went to the beach and played frisbee with Joel which was good fun too. But I kind of came down from my success-induced high throughtout the day and I feel pretty shitty. I always feel bad on Australia Day. Patriotism pisses the hell out of me, it is an ugly ugly thing and shouldn't be celebrated with money wasting firework displays and tacky fake tattoos. Much better to stay in with an overwhleming sense of loneliness and a severe need to have a good cry. That pisses the hell out of me too, when you really need to cry but it just doesn't happen. I also need some cuddles but they're a long way off. Literally. what did make me cry recently was listening to "The Man Comes Around" by Johnny Cash. If that song doesn't make you shiver then you're probably not the shiverin' type. This post is gonna get completely rambley right now, I can feel it in my fingers. the song is really sad anyway. a not sad song is the avalanches remix of I'm a Cuckoo. It features tribal drumming and the Melbourne Sudanese choir! Keong got it off soulseek or somewhere and played it last night. It is extremely good, it has such an innocent carefree joyous feel. It is hard to describe.
I'm enjoying being able to read the newspaper thoroughly each day, it is nice knowing what is going on in the world. wesley clark for president, mark latham for prime minister (he's still a dick but a smaller dick. i could have phrased that better), and tony blair (and most Australian Liberal MP's and US Republicans) should be forced to dismantle and eat weapons of mass destruction. Peter Beattie (Queensland Premier)pisses me off. So does Matthew Reilly (author of bad novels). He wrote an opinion piece in the Australian about what young Australians should do. He even quoted Pink to appeal to the kids. It was fucking stupid anyway. I don't think anyone has any idea what the hell I'm going on about do they? I can always tell I'm going on and on when paragraphs become but a distant memory. Actually I can always tell I'm going on and on.
That seemed like a good time to start a new paragraph. I think archery would be a nice sport to learn. it seems quite peaceful, and no one gets hurt or anything. clay shooting too, though i guess with guns involved there always the chance of stray bullet action. and i guess stray arrows could cause some take an eye out acton. if you laughed then you need help. trying to hit things seems to be the way i want to go.
frisbee is always a lot harder than I remember. it seems so simple but it rarely is. the think i dislike but kind of like too is when the frisbee is coming straight for you, and you're like "i am gonna catch this so easy", but then it gets a little higher and moves away from you and you're like "hmm, I'm gonna have to move here, but i'm still catching this baby. i might even go for some tricky catch moves, so confident am I of my ability to trap this frisbee with my bare hands". Then the frisbee is like "you just think you're so good don't you terry, with your pointless views on world politics and your fancy catch plans. well take this!". At this point the seemingly innocent frisbee becomes quite contrary. it may appear to be gliding elegantly through the air, but in actuall fact it is beign controlled by the frisbee gods. or some punk kid with a remote control who follows me everywhere, but lets leave my schizophrenic tendencies out of this. the frisbee is still, it seems, catchable. i move in its direction. it moves away. i speed up. it too speeds up. i begin to run. it begins to descend. through what can only be described as forces greater than nature, the frisbee mimics my every move to remain just out of reach, butremains tantalisingly catchable. i think "oh you big tease, you're just playing hard to get. i'll get you in my hands soon". the frisbee thinks "for god's sake can't you take a hint. just leave me alone!" by this stage i am nothing short of desperate. i break into a full blown sprint, but the frisbee continues to keep me at arms length. then, suddenly, the frisbee crashes into the sand, taking my dreams of some diving left handed between the legs fancy catch action with it.
one of my favourite jokes is this: "Why did the cosmonauts get into space first? Because they were always Russian". It rarely gets laughs.
I'm going to end now. I don't feel like crying now, and my sense of loneliness has gone from overwhelming to annoying. and my headache has turned into a tummy ache. that's what i call progress.
posted by terry at 9:26 PM
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