Many Rivers To Cross.

Today I walked past a woman on the street. Well, I actually walked past many women on the street. I imagine I passed a countless number of women without seeing them as anything other than another obstacle to navigate on the streetscape. Equality yo.

Some I did notice. One in particular caught and held my attention.

I’ll admit, the prime cause of this noticing was most usually because I found these passing strangers to be attractive. Shiny. I’m not sure if it’s OK to find women attractive in these modern times, or call them shiny, but the truth is the truth. I get distracted by shiny things. Women included. If I were a bower bird decorating my nest it would be built and decorated with attractive women. Well, I mean, um… Hmm. That metaphor took a decidedly grim turn. I leave it up to you to come up with your own. Hopefully one that’s a little less Ed Gein-y.

NotFurnitureMadeOfHumanRemains
Ed Gein’s interior decorating skills were a little too grim so here’s ninja kittens instead.

Moving on.

Continue reading “Many Rivers To Cross.”

The Twisted Ballad of Little Satan and The Jerk Queen.

Part I – Trouble In Paradise.

So I’m in Bali sitting in my usual favourite café/bar/warung enjoying a deliciously inexpensive meal and a quietly cold beer. After a big morning of riding around aimlessly on my bike and soaking in the human potpourri that is Bali I had built up an appetite for relaxation. I’ve given my order to the dependably perky waitress and eagerly await the forthcoming taste sensation.

paradise

Continue reading “The Twisted Ballad of Little Satan and The Jerk Queen.”

Remember The Days Of The Old Schoolyard?

So.

After celebrating the hell out of a friend’s birthday, well into the wee hours of the night, I find myself in a popular late night food destination. And just like an ugly fat girl at closing time it’s a destination that can thank alcohol and poor decision making for 100% of their business.

The Gravy Spot. Ugh, there’s just no way to make that sound classy.

After purchasing a ridiculous amount of food because alcohol/poor decision making, with the ridiculous amount of loose change I have because alcohol/poor decision making, I become aware of the demeanour of 90% of the patrons. Patrons who happen to be 90% male.

Continue reading “Remember The Days Of The Old Schoolyard?”

From Russia With Love.

I have never paid for sex. Well, not in the traditional way of exchanging money for goods or services. I have, however, paid through other less direct means. Dinners, holidays, clothing, jewellery, heartache, angst, slashed tyres…

For those keeping score at home; I don’t think that there is anything wrong with exchanging money for sex. A business transaction that happens between two, or more, consenting adults is strictly their business and by no means grounds to judge.

That said; it’s not something that I myself would do. My rationale being: why pay money to remove the pleasure of mutually thrilling exploratory conversation? I like conversation. Conversation with a girl you find physically and mentally stimulating is the greatest invention of all time.

Continue reading “From Russia With Love.”

A Sort Of Homecoming.

I’m beginning to loathe where I live. Like, really detest it. For those that are interested, I’ll share the most current of the ever increasing stockpile of reasons.

Were-sharks. Definitely on the list.
Were-sharks. Definitely on the list.

As I’m sure most of you (my faithful readers) are aware, I attempt to spend as much time as humanly possible in Bali.

Through some oversight in the responsibility = reward spectrum I’ve managed to spend an inordinate amount of time in a tropical wonderland drinking cheap beer, meeting fantastic people and getting into wacky adventures.

Continue reading “A Sort Of Homecoming.”

Train of Thought.

I’ve always had an unnatural fear of sitting next to attractive women on public transport. It doesn’t matter if it’s a bus, tram, train, ferry, plane or Heli-carrier; I feel slightly uneasy whenever I sit next to a pretty girl.

This fear has absolutely nothing to do with a lack of confidence or some form of general social anxiety and more to do with the fact that I suspect pretty girls know they’re pretty. They’re aware of it.

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Get a Haircut and Get a Real Job.

I cut my own hair.

Those that know me in the real world would take that statement as an opportunity to chime in with an enormously humorous and completely underused, “Heh, I can tell.”
Comedic geniuses.

I do this not for money saving purposes or to make a poorly articulated statement about individualism.

No. I do it because historically I have never been able to find a hairdresser that cut my hair how I wanted it cut.  They always cut it how THEY wanted to cut it, or how THEY think would look best. Without fail.
And I’d leave the hair salon with completely unrequested Emily The Strange style bangs or, even worse, a mullet, feeling equal parts angry/sad/confused.

Continue reading “Get a Haircut and Get a Real Job.”

Communication Takes Two.

Since the dawn of mankind we as a species have continued to develop our ability to communicate. Ever since our progenitors discovered they could grunt to convey ideas, we’ve created new means to get a message from our brain and into the brains of others.

From these first tentative steps toward peak communication, from grunts and smoke signals to pigeons, from Maritime flags and sign language to the culture shifting Alexander Graham Bell invention, all the way through to the modern marvel of interconnected satellite computer webs, we have strived to open our channels of communication for the betterment of our planetary society.

With that in mind I share this tale…

Continue reading “Communication Takes Two.”