What I Did On My Holigays

How I spent my holidays. Well, the first day of them, anyway.

– Slept a ridiculous amount.

– Started a one hour walk around the river, thought better of it five minutes in and went to buy a chocolate bar from the shop instead.

– Made good on a promise to myself to allot some time each day for reading. Decided that ‘Confessions of a Sociopath’ by M.E. Thomas is a boring load of wanky twaddle and abandoned it 125 pages in. That’s really saying something seeing as I’ve read the Twilight saga. Twice.

– Watched a German film called Free Fall on Netflix this morning und schpent der rescht uf mein day talkink to meinself viz a German accent.

– Dusted one of the 700 wooden blinds that this three storey retirement village for dust particles house has on its doors and windows. It took me 30 freaking minutes because it appears the previous tenants last dusted them never fucking ever years ago and somehow sprayed every window with a thoughtful spritz of cooking oil.

– Spent two hours this morning editing together a 90’s club mix. Listened back to it this afternoon, cringed so hard I burst a blood vessel in my eye and promptly deleted it.

Achieving. I’m… kinda doing it.

A Day In The Life

5:20 am – Alarm goes off. Tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen. Pour myself a cup of ambition, yawn and stretch and try to come to life. (Just kidding. Alarm goes off, open one eye, swear under my breath, hit snooze)

5:30 am – As above.

5:40 am – You guessed it. Snoozy snoozerson.

5:53 am – Bolt out of bed in a blind panic, fling self in direction of shower.

6:00 am – Toothbrush engaged! Minty freshness achieved!

6:10 am – Make bed. Hospital corners and all. Get a bit obsessive with the sheet smoothing/pillow arranging. Try to talk self out of it but I’m ignoring me today, apparently.

6:20 am – Take blood sugar levels and adjust with insulin injection. Take meds with giant glass of water. Get dressed for work.

6:30 am – In car.  Yawn so hard that water fills my eyes and runs down my cheeks. Decide this is an awesome time to engage early morning Perth traffic.

6:32 am – In traffic. Begin to regret giant glass of water at 6:20 am. Bladder is really, really mad at me. Decide my drag name would be Anita Peenow.

6:47 am – Park in seekrit location. It’s a few minutes walk to work and it’s free. I will never tell you where it is so don’t ask.

6:49 am – Very narrowly avoid slipping on actual banana peel that actual person dropped on actual road no doubt expecting actual comedy hijinks.

6:50 am – Nearly mowed down by angry cyclist as I wasn’t really looking where I was walking as I typed the above sentence into my phone.

6:53 am – Arrive at work. Coffeeeeeeeeeeeeee.


7:00am – Caffeine begins to work. Start feeling alive. Consider being friendly to co-worker. Decide to give it another 20 minutes just to be safe.

7:01am – Checking my emails. Nothing too serious in the old inbox. Nice.  Celebrate by selecting new wallpaper.

7:31am – Start work.

8:01 am – Working

8:12 am – More working.

9:25 am – A manager walks by, showing some new staff around our floor. He points at me and tells them I’m a hub of knowledge and can help with most anything.  Quickly close the Bananarama fan page website I was looking at and try to look wise yet approachable. End up looking like I have gas. The newbies scurry away quickly.

10:00 am – Morning break. Fifteen minutes of freedom. Cram packet of crisps in gob. Follow it with giant glass of water so that they drown before they reach my stomach and can do no harm. Get excited because I’m so smart. Pretty sure abs will appear any day now.

10:15 am – More working.

10:57 am – Even more working.

11:30 am – Start lunch discussion with best pal via email. It has been decided that I shall purchase sushi and that he will probably have the ham and cheese roll he brought in for lunch because he likes ham and cheese rolls and he went to the effort of making it and bringing it in so may as well etc etc.

11:55 am – Check blood sugars, take insulin.

12:00 pm – LUNCHTIME! Sprint to local Japanese Takeaway (Nippon Fare) and obtain delicious sushi.

12:06 pm – Sitting in lunchroom taking obligatory food photo for uploading to Instagram. Get sprung by one of the engineers who ribs me mercilessly for doing so. Make mental note to break whatever he’s in charge of maintaining when I return to my desk.

Sorry that it isn't filtered a la Instagram

12:07 pm – 12:28pm – Lunch with best pal.

12:30 pm – Back at desk. Today has more work than lunch, which doesn’t seem right.

01:30 pm – I started the day with 35 emails in my inbox. Answered 30. There are now 38. Help.

01:45 pm – New co-worker walks past, he is heavily tattooed, with glasses and a shaved head. He smiles at me.

01:46 pm – Google ‘gay wedding planners’. Decide on an October ceremony. Hopefully I find out his name before then, vows could be awkward.

02:20 pm – Afternoon break. Go into staff room – something smells really bad. I vividly describe what combination of events could cause such an odour. Turn to see co-worker looking revolted as he puts his delicious sandwich down and pushes it away. Apologise as he dry-heaves.

02:52 pm – Best pal emails me asking if I’ve had any experience with “Google Analtics”. Am slightly intrigued but decide not to Google this with safe search off.  Turns out he meant Google Analytics but you can’t be too careful these days.

03:11 pm – Tattoo man hasn’t walked past again. Or called. Or proposed. Am devastated.

03:40 pm – More working.

03:50 pm – Computer crashes three times.  Maybe I should have looked up Google Analtics after all?

04:00 pm – Home Time!

04:24 pm – In car, 80′s soundtrack loaded for the drive home. Arrive home 30 minutes later. Bring in bins for all three apartments because I’m nice like that.

04:40 pm – Sit in front of computer, just for something different. Listen to some music. Song reminds me of an ex. Haven’t seen him since messy breakup in ’96. Decide to Google ex. Find a video of ex giving a lecture at Sydney University. Watch video against better judgement.

04:45 pm – Shouldn’t have watched video. Eat feelings. Delicious, delicious feelings.

05:48 pm – Am hungry again already. Waiting for Coles home delivery. Vow not to eat anything until I have groceries and I can make something healthy. Three seconds later am eating peanut butter out of a jar with a tablespoon.

06:10 pm – Coles delivery arrives! Much happiness! Freak out delivery guy by saying ‘thank you’ with too much enthusiasm too many times in a row. After he leaves I find out I have peanut butter hanging off my chin. I’m so classy.

06:31 pm – Cooking salmon for the first time. Am rather good at it for someone who once accidentally made a ham and asparagus spongecake. Trying to eat better food to help with depression and overall life-livingness so am also having asparagus.

Victory is mine! Muahahahah!

06:35 pm – Check blood sugars, inject insulin.

06:42 pm – Deliciousness abounds. I’m like that chef bloke off the telly that swears at people. Without the chef or telly part though.

Dinner is served!

06:48 pm – Find self thinking that Cameron Daddo looks well rough in this ad until I discover it’s not actually him.


07:00 pm – Tempt fate by cooking chicken breast for lunch tomorrow. Begin to wonder if I’ve stumbled in to alternate universe when nothing burns, bursts into flames or turns into a spongecake.

07:20 pm – Cleaning the kitchen. Washing the dishes. Will this devil-may-care existence ever end?

07:38 pm – Pyjamas on, collapsed on couch. Doctor Who time – ‘Cold War’



08:17 pm – Meh.

08:20 pm – Ooookay then.

08:26 pm – Not bad in the end. See preview for next episode. It looks scary and awesome. Bounce up and down on couch excitedly until it makes odd “SPUNNNGGGG” noise.

08:40 pm – Time to write out this blog!

10:00 pm – Done!

10:30 pm – Check blood sugars, inject insulin (basal dose for overnight maintenance), take night meds.




Dastardly Disco

I hate fancy dress parties. HATE.

I was once beaten up by a pretty spot on Prince and and very unconvincing Bob Marley at a ‘Pop Stars’ fancy dress school disco. I ended up being rescued by Madonna and 2/3 of Bananarama when they went and got Bruce Springsteen, who was moonlighting as a P.E. teacher.

Years later I repeated this fact when doing a radio interview with Sarah Dallin from Bananarama.

Sarah: “Did they look much like us?”

Me: “Sort of. One of them was really overweight and had one leg two inches shorter than the other.”

Sarah: “Ah, so she was Siobhan..”

(Siobhan had famously left the group in 1988 after rumours of fights with Sarah and Keren, the other two members)

I’ll be laughing at that forever…


Kevin Smith is an amazing human.

Director and Writer Kevin Smith Tweeted this essay 140 characters at a time in response to someone asking him for help because they were being taunted about their weight, leading to thoughts of suicide. You can follow him @ThatKevinSmith . His incredible reply to a complete stranger brought tears to my eyes. Well played sir. Well played.

…We’re all too fat, sir. But weight loss, while a frustrating proposition, is the key: when you’re thin, you’re healthy, & nobody bothers you – so life’s always a non-caloric-cupcake-&-firework party!

However, having met 1 or 2 thin people (or “normies”) in my life, I’ve been able to glean that it’s also not always a picnic being skinny.

Okay, so if life blows for fat AND thin people sometimes, then it’s all relative – except for your packaging. So remove the whole “IF I CAN JUST GET THIN, EVERYTHING WILL BE BETTER!” bullshit & approach the weight loss with a realistic perspective: losing weight will SOLELY make you thinner & heart-healthier; other than that, it’s no different from being thin except all the sweating & getting a hard-on for DevilDogs.

So when the fantasy factor of weight loss is eliminated (fact: your life may stay the EXACT same & your problems may not suddenly evaporate) you’re left with un-hyped, non-augmented truth: when you lose weight, you’re doing JUST that: losing weight. Now – if you NEED to attach drama to weight-loss, as a sort of motivator, there’s no better gas in the tank than the simple desire to shut motherfuckers the fuck up.

S’fun to watch the endlessly opinionated suddenly choke on a reality they’d never prepared for: the mutable you. Folks wanna cast you in a walk-on role in the movie of their lives: they want to minimize you to one aspect/role/title THEIR self-esteem can handle. Don’t settle for being a last-billed extra in some other prick’s feature; be the goddamn STAR of your OWN movie.

The best revenge is when folks who’ve tagged & bagged you suddenly realize THEIR true roles: they amount to little more than a footnote in the film of YOUR life. Then?

Now – I’m not a spectral communicator & I don’t claim to congress with the dead. But I doubt ANY of this can be accomplished from the grave. As far as I know, you get one life. Milk it, sir. Chocolate-milk it, if you’ve gotta, but milk it for all it’s worth without harming others.

Treat yourself like you treat the things you own: bag & board your life & put it somewhere fuckers can’t bend your pages; maybe even framed. But whatever you do, don’t even whimsy about ending shit. It all ends soon enough, without our input or agreement.

Drop a little weight and it’ll be easier to drop a little more. For me it’s more about portion control: I’m an American, so everything I eat is like four feet tall.  On Weight Watchers, I’ve been rocking the Smart Ones meals, which I’m using to train myself to remember that two boxes of cereal in one sitting is not a meal; it’s a freak show that belongs on the boardwalk at Coney Island in the summertime.

Make the portions smaller (it’s the thing no chubby wants to hear, but it’s the only path: eat less & exercise. I’ve been doing that since Nov.1 & I’ve lost 40 pounds now.  And if I can do it, ANYBODY can do it.

I’m the laziest, fattest slob I know. My gut has a gut. But I’ll go Christian-Bale-In-The-Machinist before I give this wicked, wicked world one more second of my life any earlier than I’ve gotta. Batman watched his parents killed, and opted to stay above ground to make sure the same didn’t happen to anyone else, rather than crumble in defeat.

Granted, Batman is fictional. But then so are MOST of the people you look up to: they’re fictional. You don’t see their struggles, you only see their wins. Life is a zero-sum game: there has never been a winner.

Find a role model: someone who’s done this life in a way that inspires you and use the lessons of their life to enrich your own (hands off Gretzky, Lunchbox: he’s MINE). But find a role model, not a hero. Learn from others but be your OWN hero.

Long story short: next meal, eat less. Meal after that? Eat half. Leave food behind. Start like that. In a week or two, step it up a little: go out walking. Bring an iPod (I recommend loading with some #SModcast Network shows). Walk for 10 mins. Then 20. Then 30. Increase weekly.

A week will go by. Then a month – at the end of which, you’ll have lost some weight. It may not be a breathtaking amount, but it’ll be enuff to make you wanna lose a little more, maybe. And then a little more. But you can do this. Just know you’re going to do it ALONE – and that’s okay. This is YOUR journey. From time to time, even when NOBODY else understands why, we have to act against their grain – to get shit done.

Expect some taunts & teases from the swine, so I suggest finding a somewhat less-traveled road (but always let someone know where you’re going); and to paraphrase Teddy, a walking stick’s good for balance AND for making fucktards think twice about shooting their mouths off.

So no more of this suicide bullshit: how the fuck do you know you’re not the one who’s supposed to cure cancer. Or change shit. Or inspire the one who WILL change shit. The flick has three acts, sir; stay above ground – or you’ll never know what was possible; just what wasn’t…

So today, eat only HALF that Ho-Ho. All this week, eat only half the Ho-Ho. Next week, it’s Anti-Claus time: meaning NO Ho-Ho. Ho-Ho’s won’t vanish in our absence: there will ALWAYS be Ho-Ho’s.

next week, maybe years even? You can have another Ho-Ho – after which, you may mutter to yourself “Wasn’t worth it…” because that Ho-Ho becomes an hour walk to even make a dent in the caloric burning department.

We’ll lose weight, @thedarkknight98 – that’s EASY. Much harder to lose: the yapping, negative swine. Like herpes, they’ll be with us always.

Karma Cokemeleon

cokemachineThis one’s for humiliated teenagers everywhere. Today at work in the record store (Central Station Records, internet stalking enthusiasts) a mother was wandering around behind two teenage boys, berating them for choosing to look in our ‘grotty’ store with our ‘annoying’ music (we specialise in import dance stuff) in one of those overly-loud and completely embarrassing voices that parents of teens do so well.

One of the boys turned red and muttered something back, which led to a tirade from her about him having ‘no respect’ and how she wasn’t a ‘bloody fool’ and to stop talking to her like she was ‘an idiot’. All of this was moments before she turned around and smacked face first into our Coke machine.  The noise her features made as they hit the plastic fronting at velocity could only be described as a ‘squonch’.