Saaaatttuuurrrdddaaaayyy!

This was a new experience for me. I actually tried a pill. And while it was a great night, it's Wednesday and i still feel burnt out, so i'm not going to be doing it again anytime soon. At least I know with alchohol, i'll wake up, i'll have a spew and after something greasy, the world is once again a, if not wonderful, at least bearable place. The pills burn out something deep inside you that seems to take a while to get over. I guess when you're dancing for hours when your body is pretty much on empty, you gotta expect some side effects. Regardless, i'm glad i tried it. Fantastic night.
After a lot of farting around at Normies house (we waited til 11.30 because he wanted his mum to give him a haircut!) I was the one non-drunk person and scooted us into Geelong to meet some friends of Steveo's house and get a few more drinks into us while the drinks were plentiful and cheap. Normie made me a vodka & orange so strong that it would have stripped paint so I could make up for lost drinking time.
We sauntered down to the main street at midnight-ish, stopping only for a bottle of water at mcdonalds so we could all take our 'pills'. I was pretty nervous, but I was with a lot of friends, and a few of the more experienced ones told all the 'pill-noobs' to come to them if they started freaking out. I'm not sure exactly when it hit me, but we all hit the dance floor after being let in by one of the fattest bouncers I have ever seen, and never looked back. I swear, i probably looked like a turd. I'm not the greatest dancer at the best of times, but take my awkward dancing style, throw in seemingly limitless energy and fantastic non Albury (read: no 'Love Shack or DJ Sammy crap) music and I burned up the dance floor, epilepsy style, for hours.
The women in Geelong are fantastic. Punk ones, blonde ones, short ones, tall ones. It was my elysium. I just wish I had more game on the night, but there you go.
The first girl who danced into me and chatted was, and I shit you not, a Norwegian Exchange Student. Tall, blonde and fucking stunning, but according to her friend, she goes out all the time, flirts with all the guys and goes home to her probably very large and violent boyfriend. She had a friend who was less hot, less skinny, and decidedly less norwegian who tried to crack onto me. She actually tried to guilt me into going home with her, and I kept calling her bluff by offering her taxi money etc. I guess she must have eventually gotten the hint because she dissapeared at some stage... my addled mind can't exactly recall when.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. There were a few more girls chatted to, a lot more dancing to be had. Benny came out of the toilet once almost crying with laughter. A dude had gotten so drunk, he fell asleep while peeing at the urinal, fell against the wall, slid down that and into the trough. When his head hit the bottom his cigarette actually flipped onto his face.
Eventually we all started burning out and drove home for 3 hours sleep before the longest car trip I can ever remember having. Back, legs, arms, everything was aching something fierce as Steveo, Benny, George and I all hit the tarmac back to Albury.
There is more to write, but I really could not be shagged. Bed awaits!
-j

Oh what a night...

Last time I went to Geelong, it was with 2 of my best mates. We shot down the great ocean road looking for a campspot near a pub, but due to the Rip Curl Pro (surfing comp) that was on that particular weekend, nary a camping spot could be found. We eventually had to hightail it back to Geelong before it got too dark, pitch our tent and we went to a local RSL club for tea. Must have been our night, because we came out about $70 up each thanks to 'Mr Cashman' (he's a gambling feature on one of the pokies), which kickstarted the night nicely. I wont go into detail, but it was a brilliant night all the way up 'til I woke up in an enclosed tent full of the smells of 3 guys who had far too much to drink the night before, then sun beaming happily down on the tent and turning the smell of cigarettes, beer, and a whole lot of fart into something evil and tangible.
This particular weekend was a beast of an entirely different, but equally good colour. After a day of getting over the sexual deviants ball (last post), Steveo, Benny, George, Brad and I all piled into Steveo's old commodore with a slab of rum and blasted up the highway to the soothing tunes of Steve's crackly radio and the odd noise that 'something' in the back of his car makes (imagine someone hitting the inside of the wheel well with a frozen squirrel). It was still a pretty fun trip though. Mcdonalds stop, and Steveo is a goldfield of hilarious stories. We were all pretty knackered by the time we got to Geelong at 1.00am. We were staying at Normies family's house and all crashed on the floor in his loungeroom. There was an incident in the night where I started sleepwalking, and stepped on George's leg. He woke up, but didnt say anything, and somehow Benny, who was next to him, woke up and squealed,which in turn woke me up and apparently I spent a good 5 minutes saying "sorry, sorry... sorry, sorry..." before going to the toilet and saying "sorry" all over again. I still don't know why Benny woke up when it was George I stepped on, but it was freaking hilarious all the same.
Dammit, I have to finish this tomorrow. I have to go to bed, and I still havent gotten up to the whole IpointI of going to Geelong... the Saturday night! Stay tuned...
-j

Sexual Deviance

Last night was the La Trobe University 'Sexual Deviant Ball' and it was freaking sweet. Last year a friend actually crapped his pants and was found in a creek, whilst on the same night, Tim somehow ended up at Thurgoona at a girls house who he didnt know when he was dressed as a convict! So this night had something to live up to. It kicked off at Benny's house with a few Jagermeister Bombs and beer until about 8.30 when we managed to pile 10 full grown, rolling drunk, and hideously dressed (One he-man, one nurse, 3 amigo's, 3 guys in suits, one normally-dressed person and a cowboy) guys into Will's 1975 Mazda 929. Lets just say that if the police had pulled us over, we would have been fucked and fucked good.
With the Mazda's suspension getting a workout, and scraping every time we went over any bump larger than a coin, we pulled into the La Trobe park and joined the stream of nurses, tennis instructors, giant-foam-penis's, hot police-uniform clad ladies and less hot, less clad guys in the lineup. Early in the night someone must have had one hell of a vomit in the men's toilet because sweet jesus did it reek. A jumping castle was full of half naked, drunk as hell people rolling around inside with the giant inflatable boobs and penises (penii?) that i can only hope are taken out when it's used for childrens party's. Absolutely gorgeous women abounded at this party. The initial line up suggested a sausage fest, but this fear was put to rest when we stepped inside. The girls must have dont the smart thing and come early to enjoy a body-fluid free jumping castle and fresh scented toilets. When it came to the ladies though, my game was such that I ended up only kissing a girl I used to pick up with a few months ago, rather than actually showing some sack and talking to someone I didnt know. I remember talking to a girl called C* and thinking "sweet jesus, nicest, hottest girl in the world", but as fate would have it, I later saw her macking with some other dude. Ahh well...
After the ball had ended, everyone walked back to Benny's before hitting a cab to go over to the Globe, turning up just as they started kicking people out to close the joint up. As luck would have it, a girl I kind of know called S* was out the front, and, due to the large amount of Jack Daniels in my system, she was the hottest girl in the world right then. 10 minutes later we were in a taxi to my place... I probably shouldnt go into too much detail here, but it was pretty good fun.
We were woken up in the morning to the soothing sounds of Benny banging on my door. Hungover as hell and with a mouth that tasted like a bear had shat in it, S* and I hitched a lift back to Wodonga to a) drop her off, and b) get my car. Mcdonalds restored my will to live somewhat, and Benny, Joely, Normie and I all hit video ezy so we could distract ourself from our seediness. In doing this though, we pretty much hired the worst film ever created. According to Joely, a film with the title 'Whore' could in no way dissapoint a bunch of hungover young guys. But dissapoint it most certainly did. Keep yourself and your loved ones far away from this piece of shit movie.
Theres more to write, but I need to catch a nap before I drive to Geelong with the same mates. Should be a blast!
-j
* I've decided to just use the first letter of the name of any girls I fancy / pick up. I'm not sure why, but it's probably for the best.

Assault By Snow

Yesterday I spent the day snowboarding with friends, and to quote futurama, "i feel like i've been beaten up by jesus". Legs, back, arms and stomach all feel like someone had a crack at them with a baseball bat, but it was totally worth it. Brilliant day, awesome weather, hanging with Jen , her man, and a few other mates at Falls Creek. On top of this, i was actually able to stay up on the damned snowboard for more than 30 seconds (I struggle to stay up for 30 seconds, usually). Whooshing down the hills, avoiding the few lesser snowboarders and being avoided by the mass of greater snowboarders. Sure, there were a few faceplants. And i'd be lying if i said a friend didnt snowboard between my legs, taking us both out and getting hopelessly tangled directly underneath a major snowlift in what looked like a very compromising position. It only took a mere 5 minutes of overhead homosexual remarks and accusations before we were on our way again.
Sometime during the day, I was feeling pretty confident with myself, so I lent Jen my gloves (I would have done that, regardless of confidence, mind you. She's cold-blooded by nature. Like a snake) and took off down the "Drovers Run" ski run with dazzling confidence. As soon as I didnt have gloves, I crashed more and harder than I had all damned day. Awe inspiring cartwheels, magnificent rolls, spine tingling crashes where my board dug into deep, soft snow and I had to lay on my back and do a spastic worm manouver to get it out. This was my life as soon as I had relinquished my gloves, and each time I had to dig my poor virgin hands into the freezing snow to hoist myself up again.
I felt pretty chipper all through the day, as soon as we got in the car for the trip home though, I hit the wall hard and dozed off all the way back to Wodonga. After a few pizza's at Baz and Rels I got home and crashed so quick I dont think I remember my head hitting the pillow, and didnt stir until 12 hours later when I had to go to work.
I won't bore my adoring public with a recount of todays work. It was the same as it was every other day. Except sorer. Although an absolutely gorgeous girl came in though, who had been in last week and I had a lovely chat to back then. Although now I had met her... I had nothing to say, so in true Jason style it was "two dollars... thank you. See you later!". No wonder i'm single! No game whatsoever!
Well, i'm out. I just had 3 beers to help me sleep before another day at the tax office, and assuming I dont need to pee every 4 minutes, I need a nice long nights sleep.
Oh, and the tinea is still on the rampage. I'll tell you when, in the words of Christian Rudder: "it turns into a full blown jizz-fest all up and down my legs". Should be sweet.
-j

Holy Flerking Schnitt!

Last night at about 8, I was gearing up for my usual few hours of counter-strike before bed when I was asked if i wanted to go to see 'Architecture In Helsinki'. I hummed and hahed, thought carefully over how late it would be (11pm start) and what time i had to get up tomorrow (about 5.30am) and for some reason thought it would be a great idea.
Don't get me wrong, the night was fantastic. AIH don't really play my kind of music, but it was quirky and fun and very interesting stuff, and good music does not come to Albury often enough.
I tried plying my works new employee, James, with beer (he refused. The boy just turned 18 and he was turning down free beers!) as well as downing a good many myself. That shit just went straight through me though. I swear, i'd drink a beer and 3 minutes later i'd have a still cold, fizzy amber pee. I probably took in excess of ten of these before I rolled home at 2am ish.
The penalty for my excesses was of course, work today. I bounced out of bed at 5.30am and was feeling chipper for about 2 seconds before the headspins kicked in and I almost tripped into my wardrobe. There was the standard hung-over/still drunk/shit i'm tired pants ordeal (one leg in... hold it steady... steady... get the left one in... FUCK I fell over!), followed by some porridge that I managed to choke down, and even the taste of toothpaste made me feel like I needed to vom. Out the door i stumbled with hair looking like the cat had combed it and 2 eyes squinting atop some serious purple luggage.
Work isn't terribly stimulating at the best of times, but today was absolutely abominable. When i'm feeling good, I generally zone out and do my thing at work without stuffing it up too much. But today, I was catching myself doing the drunken ponder over many a damned thing that I usually wouldnt pay attention too. I uploaded data for a company called "mezzanine style" or something of that nature, and for a good couple of minutes, I wondered what it would be like to 'do it' mezzanine style.
I then realised that there was no such style, nor had there ever been. It was that kind of day.
The rest of the day was much the same. Slow reactions, reading and re-reading addresses of envelopes I was opening... I had no need to read those addresses! I just had to open the damned letter!. One incident where I caught myself nodding off on the toilet and my long-arse day was done.
I really need to hit the hay... I am a zombie right now.
Oh, and according to my housemate, I have athletes foot. I'm not sure what this entails, but I'll sleep sound tonight in the knowledge that there is fungus growing on my feet. Yee haw.

Stormin' Norman

Normie turned 21 on friday night, and it was a freaking blast. I showed up at about 8pm bearing a slab of cougars and was met with a large rubbish bin, FULL of punch (This was Joelies punch. So it mainly consists of cheap wine and vodka), as well as a heap of tequila, curacao, and a fridge full of rum and beers. Last week, just after I had bought him a chartreuse shot, Normie leaned over and vomited under the bar on the pretense of tying his shoes. Vomited... and kept on going. This shows you what kind of a drinker he is.
Drinking games, and a heap of bodyshots ensued (including a few girl - girl and guy - guy bodyshots) before we decided to head out at about midnight. We arrive at the Bended Albow and ... Normie had forgotten his wallet. Back in the taxi, back home, get the wallet, pay $7 to get into the Elbow and its a freaking ghost town. How can they knowingly charge $7 to inflict awful music on us on a large, unpopulated dance floor. The globe proved to be more worthwhile, and with Normie perving on the gorgeous Liz (bar chick), and then dirty dancing with another girl, before she pulled the old "Well, i'm going home now... bye!" and dissapearing into thin air. Many guys can bear testament to this phenomenon, i'm sure.
Some girl danced up to me and we chatted for a little while. I cried poverty when she asked me to buy her a drink. I chivalrously asked her to buy me a drink, and she later stormed off when she saw that I had money enough to buy one for myself and Normie. Its his 21st for gods sake! I have money for THAT, even if i dont for some random chick. Whats that saying? "Bro's before ho's"?

Cleanin' Fever!

Today I did the the unthinkable, and actually cleaned my car.
Any of you who have seen my car in all its former glory will truly appreciate the magnitude of this announcement. My car was disgusting. Due to a knackered seal in the back drivers side door, rain would seep through the seal, run down the inside of the door, and form in a stagnant pool in the base of the metal doorframe. When that was full, it would run over the top and into the carpet undeneath the drivers seat. Couple this with the amounts of old magazines, payslips, bank statements, socks and general bric a brac which form a protective layer over the wet carpet, and you have a mold farm (yes, there was mold there) that 'pa would be proud of.
Some things of note that i found:

• An umbrella. I have never bought, owned, and cant remember ever having used and umbrella. And yet there it sits...
• Fireworks from a roadtrip that some mates and I took in January.
• Bottles of booze from the same trip.
• An Astroboy figuring, with scorch marks denoting an assasination attempt using the fireworks. Also from the same trip.
• A soaking wet, genuinely moldy sock. Or 3.
• I found my tent! Last used at easter when I went camping with some mates.
• A few months ago i signed up to have have $20 a month taken out of my bank account to go to 'Doctors Without Borders' which I had very much forgotten about. Found my now wet signup form coating the mold. This solves a few mysteries regarding my bank balance.
• A flowered bikini top.
• About $10 in shrapnel! Score!

And despite looking the best its looked in well over a year, the poor thing doesnt run any better than it did. Clean or not, the power steering belt squeals like a cut cat when its cold, and the oil continues to flow out of a buggered seal underneath it. These will be fixed at some stage i'm sure...

-j

What is that thing?

I was sitting at a computer, doing 8 hours of data upload at work today, when i felt something a little bit painful on my back. A brief trip to the mirror, and it is the mother of all pimples. It's one of those ones that is just begging to be squozen, and squozen good. There is some perverse gratification to be had from squeezing a pimple of this calibre, and truly this was a pimple to be envied.
The catch is, its slightly too high on my back for me to reach! I couldn't believe it! I can only swat at it ineffectually with my mobile phone while it stands there, mocking me. I guess i'll have to do the responsible thing that all women seem to tell you about pimples and 'leave it alone. Squeeze it, and it'll scar!".
Unless i can fashion some sort of remote squeezing device... hmmm....
-j

Life in general.

At the moment, my life isnt at what you'd call its finest point. I wake up 5.45 every morning, stumble my cold arse out of bed and into my large novelty slippers. Whip up some porridge and work at the tax office for 8 hours every weekday. This might not sound like the slice of hell i make it out to be, but just quietly:
1) Early mornings and I are not compatible. Jen can wholeheartedly attest to this.
2) Every hour i spend working at the mighty tax office, a small piece of my soul dies. There was a period of about 2 hours today that i spent moving boxes of mail around to make room for more boxes. When you labour for 2 hours, one would love to see the fruit of ones labours. Unfortunately, i had just made room for more of the damned boxes.
It's saving grace is, in an effort to make this most mind-numbing of jobs more agreeable, the pay is good, the people I work with are awesome and breaks are ample. Mind you, as soon as i have saved enough to get my butt over the ocean, i am a shadow there. Then, hopefully, my overseas sojourn will provide grist for the proverbial blog mill, as opposed to it's current, tragic content.
After work has ended, i dance out the door and generally to my work (the internet cafe) for a soothing hour or 4 of counter-strike, or if i'm feeling frisky, i hit the gym Jen until out legs are jelly and we cant lift our shoulders properly. Truly, heaven must be such as my life!
After this, theres an early bedtime to looks forward to! Which... shit. It's past that at the moment.
Off to bed I go! I hope all you readers... actually, i dont think anyone has actually read this yet. This is just me... typing to myself. Which seems kinda weird, actually.
Uhh... g'night...
-j

Work Shmerk.

Well, another day another dollar.
At my work, we currently have a guy called James learning the ropes so we can call him in when I want to get away for the weekend, or when Jen has a Melbourne booty call to attend to.
At the moment though, it pretty much means that i sit around doing sweet fanny adams while i make HIM do everything... it's all in his best interests of course. I mean, milkshake making is an art. You cant just teach that shit. You have to get down on your hands and knees and make the damned thing. And when the milkshake kicks your arse, you just have to wipe the blood off your face and keep on plugging. Thats the way i learnt, thats the way my fore-fathers learnt (probably), and damn it, thats the way this kids going to learn. It all pays off when you sit down in front of that perfect milkshake, that god amongst drinks.

My mum came into work before to say hi and invite me over for tea. Now, i was planning on going to the gym tonight, so because i was humming and hahing over this, she got cranky and started laying on the guilt. I dont know whether you've experienced a mum's guilt trip, but they truly suck arse. So she almost had the waterworks turned on ("Well Jase... come if you want to. I really don't care..") before i caved in. I'll just do some weights at home i guess. I mean, hell, why the guilt though? I'm just trying to get fit! is it such a dang crime?. Plus, and i'll be honest with you, there are one or two fine young ladies that also populate this particular gym, so it really is quite a sacrifice on my behalf.

I must be off to teach young James the noble art of "cleaning that funky bin in the toilet that people keep missing with their paper towels". Or maybe i'll just TELL him to clean said funky bin. I sure as hell dont wanna touch it if i don't have to!
He'll love it, im sure.
-j

Well, following in the prestigious footprints of my friend Jen, i've decided to start a blog. And due to my lack of 'computer hacking skillz... and ninja skillz' i havent been able to setup and configure my own blog correctly on my works UNIX webserver. I mean, hell, i DID that shit at uni! I set up and ran a server with all .htaccess privileges, perl scripts etc, and yet now i am absolutely buggered if i know how to set the son-of-a-bitch up and running. Looks like i'll be crawling to my boss and seeing if he can hook me up next time i see him.

So yeah, much like Jen, i think it'll be interesting to look back at something like this in a few years time, assuming i remember to post something once in a while. Don't hold your breath, ladies and gents. I havent stuck to much in my life so far, so despite my best intentions, my elegant prose may go the way of old yeller.
Anyways, the formalities are over, and im out. I'll write something pertinent at SOME stage soon, im sure.
-j