There was this girl I’d run into in a fairly random situation once before. I’d seen her picture on an online dating site and talked to her a bit.. then, while on a tram ride to a then-girlfriends house I saw her sitting there. In a toga.

Yes. A fucking toga.

She was smasht with a friend, laughing her ass off.. but the smile on her face was unmistakable. So, in the least creepy way possible (and hey, we’re talking about the guy who bought a hoodie before, so this was childs play) – I walked up and said “Hi, I’m THAT GUY.”

Much to my surprise they didn’t run off screaming (as is the usual reaction when I approach women in public.. NOTE TO SELF: stop groping women in public) and after a not-so-awkward conversation we parted ways.

Fast forward 2 months, I’m single. We talk on MSN and I get invited to a gig for The Vaudeville Smash at the Evelyn.

So off the back of my celebratory high paying job beers (read: I’m already hammered) I go to the Evelyn to meet this chick I’d only ran into once before for 3 minutes. I pay my cover and on the way in the bouncer says “hey, look after yourself man..” – Like every drunk person, I thought I’d done a fairly good job of hiding my shame.

I was wrong.

So I roll in. I’m sporting a soft Italian leather jacket over a black Bonds hoodie and raglan. Some messed up Levi blue denim – straight leg – with black Dunlop volleys. Not to mention to a drunk “I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me hard” attitude.

I’m at the bar ordering a Coopers Green, juggling my drunk logic.. “I have X amount of $, if I buy bottled beer I’ll drink it slower, and have a better night.. and only spend the money I already have in my wallet, I’m a genius!!”

At the bar next to me, there are 2 girls. I think one of them is my girl, but I wasn’t sure at the time, so I get my beer and say, “oh, hey!”

She has her hair tied back, a red cowgirl hat on her back, red/white flannel shirt, tight jeans and red leather boots. Not to mention a sheriff’s badge and a bubbly persona. The Vaudeville Smash have a song that mentions a Cowgirl – and a Toga – ..Apparently.

Her friend isn’t really my type but reminds me of an ex. We all sit down and well, I realize now, I proceed to flirt with her friend like fucking crazy.

Don’t get me wrong, that was not my intention. I was simply working my mojo in the group and before I knew it, she thought I was into her. The fact I was wearing her sparkly scarf and dancing with her probably didn’t help. The worst thing was, these people (apart from my girl) didn’t know I had the yellow plague.. and her friend was white, so, y’know, fuck that shit (or not, as it were.)

Did I mention my cute cowgirl was asian? Oh no, I didn’t. Well, let’s talk about her. She’s short. Viet (but not Viet Cong, according to all of the intelligence reports I’ve Googled on Da Nang) and has a great innocent energy.. basically the kind of person you want to be around.

So, moving on, I’m in the group (or I drunkenly think I am at this point) and we’re watching bands and doing all the usual shit.

There’s lots of physical contact via close couch sitting with her and her friend, but I have my eye on her. Cowgirl turns and faces me and says “I like white boys” – apparently this is common knowledge among her friends.. just like my friends know I’m all about the eastern flavva. It’s at this point I know it’s on like Donkey Kong – why? Because I’m white, handsome, and have something approaching charm (even when supremely drunk.. apparently. Older women have told me I’m a cute drunk, which is a compliment I’ll never forget.)

Cowgirl was sucking on a chuppa chup.. which I stole and gave back to her after a while. This crossed the spit swapping line, though not as much as I’d haved liked. The Vaudeville Smash finally come on and well, they aren’t bad. They had a saxamaphone, a vocoder and inspired some rollicking times. Much fun is had. I think. Because for the middle of the gig, I was doing this:

So, cash in hand (so much for that drunk logic plan) I roll back in.

“You’re back!” she said, when I, well, came back. She is dancing, her cowgirl hat bouncing up and down and all I can think about is pulling her body close so she bounces up and down against me.

I regain my (alleged) composure and enjoy the rest of the gig. After it’s over they start playing hand picked hits from the 80′s and 90′s. The DJ is cutting the songs 3 minutes in to cater for Gen Y’s short attention span and I’m not complaining. There’s a lot of singing of lyrics and random conversation.. then I’m face to face with cowgirl and I very randomly pull out:

“So you want to make out with me infront of the womens toilets hey?”

“What?!”

“I’m pretty sure thats what you’re telling me here” I said with a smile. She hadn’t said anything off the sort, but I’d been hanging with them for 4 hours and the only person I’d made a move on was her friend, apparently, who I didn’t even have any interest in.

Her smile is wide, her eyes cheeky and infectious as she says “ok.”

“Ok, you go first.. I’ll meet you there in 30 seconds so it doesn’t look suss.”

She leaves, and I talk to her friends about something random and excuse myself.

Then, I experienced one of the favorite moments in my life..

I walk up and she is facing the toilet door. Her hand raises like she was going to open it to walk in, then it lowers awkwardly, as if she thought someone was thinking “why is that girl standing there, are the toilets all occupied?”

I can tell this doesn’t happen that often with her.. kissing boys in front of toilets (and hey, lets be honest. I don’t kiss a lot of boys infront of the womens toilets either.) She doesn’t see it as her back is turned, but just like Frank’n'Furter would say, I begin to quiver with antici… pation. I felt like a fat bastard walking up to a freshly cooked & steaming all you can eat buffet, completely ready to fill an emotional void.

I gently grab her from behind then push her up against the wall, kissing her softly. My hands slowly loosen at her sides as I press up against her and I begin gently rubbing my lips against hers. I pull back slowly, parting mouths ever so slightly while I inhale her breath. I often do this with women as I love the warmth and taste of the moment.. it confuses some girls because they dont know what to do, but she does.

I kiss her again and things get more intense. I know this has to finish before she begins to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed (sometimes I spend too much time putting myself in the womans head) and I don’t want to risk tainting this memory in her mind, so I slowly pull away, letting go of tight grip I had on the hair on the back of her head.

We rejoin the group and after some more drinks and dancing to music from over a decade ago.. we end up making out before she gets on the Night Rider back to her suburb. For once, I didn’t invite a girl back to my place and it’s a good thing I didn’t because, little did I know, cowgirl had a card in her wallet. A card that said V.

But for how long?

* also how weak, compromising and hypocritical you yourself can become.

I quit my job a few months ago and I haven’t had much to do. I ran out of TV shows to watch. I’ve watched every episode of Bottom at least 6 times. On top of that, THREE WHOLE seasons of 24 (man, Season 8 Episode 22 ROCKS!) and even that FlashForward show that just got axed.

Meanwhile my girlfriend was nagging me to watch the new Doctor Who episodes with her, but it was established I needed to see the original remake/new series first. I started watching them and well.. I didn’t stop.

I had so many other options.. Lost, Heroes, House.. never seen a full episode of any of them. Even Futurama, which I watched religiously for the whole of 2008, I could have revisited that in preparation for its June 2010 return.

But no.

Sure, at first it was ok.. I was just watching it with my girlfriend, wondering how many golf balls I couldfit in Billie Piper’s mouth. Then, I found myself feeling unpure thoughts like, I like Doctor Who – and as if that wasn’t bad enough, I found myself thinking I liked one Doctor more than another.

2 months ago, Doctor Who was just something I heard Ricky Gervais make fun of in his podcasts. Now, I’m one of those guys that gets 15% of the Doctor Who (DW) references. I ran into these two dykes (yeah, one is thin and attractive, the other is fat and mannish) that live in my building the other day and ended up talking to them about DW. They admitted they were total DW nerds. I was only 1 season in, and I liked the older dude more than the new guy, David Tennant (pictured) – but then I got to know him. He rocked. He rocked my world. He’s a total spunkitrunks with great energy. I’d hit it no question.

Sure, I’m a geek, yeah.. but I always thought I had one up on people who watched DW in the game of life. Now.. I’ve gone down a rung.

I watched an episode of the new DW with the new Doctor Matt Smith that was kind of alright.. it was all World War 2 themed which was cool and it has some funny moments. But I compared it to David Tennant (again, pictured.. fuck I love designer stubble) and I wondered what it was missing and then I thought to myself “it needed to be more rollicking.”

Rollicking.

That is a raw, REAL thought I had.

Dictionary.com states:

Rollicking
rol·lick·ing [rol-i-king]
–adjective
1. carefree and joyous: They had a rollicking good time.
2. swaggering; boisterous.
3. people who use this word eat dick

Ok so number 3 is my addition, but seriously.. who thinks the word “rollicking” let alone thinks something needs to be MORE rollicking. What the fuck?

So anyway I teared up when David Tennant died in DW so yeah I’m a fag. But to be fair I’m sure the 2 dykes who live in my building who are DW nerds did too, and they’re all about the minge.

To try to balance it out I’ve started watching a lot of UFC fights and that UFC show Ultimate Fighter.. so much so I’ve been doing air punches and feeling like a tough guy so that has to undo some of the damage right?

Anyway there is this nerd-internet-cloud-3rd-person-chinese-whisper-random-rumour I heard which says that Matt Smith (the new Doctor) yells out “Do you love the cock?” when fucking chicks, and if they dont say “Yes” then he pulls out and sulks in another room. Seriously. Where did I hear this? well, everything you heard about sewing circles is true. They talk about anything, everything, and most of all, anything to do with your dick if you have one.

The lesson? Don’t date a chick who is in to textiles. ’nuff said.

From: Andrew
Date: Mon, Apr 26, 2010 at 12:16 AM
Subject: oh fuck
To: Claire

im 15 minutes into “i love you man” – ive never seen it before

and im relating to all of it..

FUCK ME

I didn’t really want her to fuck me – I wanted to freak out.

In the first 15 minnies, its established that there is this dude who is a great guy, who relates to chicks more, and doesn’t have any male friends, and is getting married to a smoking hot chick. People think this is weird. He won’t have a best man. Oh yeah, did I mention his best friend is his mum?

So he has to find a cool dude. Of course, he does. It’s Marshall from How I Met Your Mother, or that dude from Forgetting Sarah Marshall who isn’t Russell Brand. He really gets to use Russell’s vibe in this movie, which is awesome.. he’s just chilled out and you can feel his energy. It’s great. Just look at this picture of him walking his dog in Ugg boots.

I mean, how in touch, free of fear and cool is this dude?

Anyway, as with any movie shit all works out. But, it was just so refreshing to see a movie that wasn’t OTT, and really connected with the whole not stupidly macho frat boy thing. It was just a cool dude who was lookin’ for some male friends – to which I can totally relate.

Andy Samberg and the racist rapist from Oz were underused, but thats why they call it an ensemble cast, right? Anyway, it wasn’t a laugh riot movie. But it was funny in some parts, and touching in others. Sure, I connected more with it because I’m your a-typical man raised by a woman (hello Fight Club fans) with his own issues. But it was cool. I also didn’t hate Paul Rudd for once.

Down with rom-com, up with bromance. IMO.

I give it 3.5 boners our of 5, only because there were no hooters.

P.S. I do NOT want to fuck a dude, even though I messaged one on RSVP this week. Who is gay. But he knows I’m not into cock. I wont be gay for pay. I swears!

Some random hour.
Alcohol consumed..
Pedestal Truckie in mind…
Claire wouldn’t turn the key to launch the nukes*

* nukes totes got launched

I am very gay for Google. I use the absolute shit out of Gmail, Latitude, Maps, Feedburner, Bookmarks, Tasks, Calendar, Picasa, Notebook.. I mean seriously, Google is the fucking bomb.

Recently the blogosphere (lol) went crazy for the Google Nexus One – a phone that is available in America, shipping to Singapore, Hong Kong, London. Wheres the <3 for Australia? Nowhere. That’s where.

Smarthouse (a blog I’d never heard of until some aggressive Googling – who woulda thunk “when will the Google Nexus One come to Australia” would get me somewhere?) have confirmed with Google Australia that the Nexus One isn’t coming to OZ.

Big sadface.

You can click here for a list of Nexus One’s on eBay for sale by Aussie sellers. Some may just be grey sellers claiming to be based in Aus, but it’s your best bet for getting service (both pre & post-sale.) These sellers claim the phone works on Telstra and Optus, but from what I’ve read elsewhere it wont work on Telstra 3G, just 2G and EDGE. What does that mean? Slower speeds in most instances.. and the phones main attraction is its mobile-data-centric features.. so, food for thought.

Click here for a very US-centric list (just ignore the prices) of how the Google phone stacks up against current competitors. NB: It’s a big image, and a big download! – FYI, the “Droid” is known as the “Milestone” out here in Oceania.

If you want some convincing on “going Google” let me know in the comments. I’d be happy to convert you =)

P.S. I’m still checking out the high heels all the time, has anyone got tips for NOT developing a foot fetish?

First, you have to be somebody or at the very least, do something meaningful before people will give a fuck. They don’t want to know about a nobody, and chances are you just aren’t that interesting.

You need to focus on doing things first. Then allow people to connect with you.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a narcissist just like you.. but I realized that nobody really gives a shit unless you’re A) amazing 2) doing something interesting or C) potentially going to fuck them. There is no point building a state of the art retail space and shop front if well.. you just have nothing to sell.

Think about it.. we all want people to think about us, while we’re alive and after we die. Take a look at your life. What you think will live on after you’re gone.

…

…

Ok, now accept this..

Your legacy will die. So will mine. It is just a matter of whether its going to be 5 days, 5 years or 5 centuries. The reality is, the best chance you have of staying in the popular consciousness is having a disease named after you. Fucking around wont help either, they generally don’t name those after people and well, that’s probably not the legacy you want anyway. But do you really care if it was? I mean, it’s all about the fame right? People knowing your name?

I think to myself, “wow, I have these ideas.. but if I die tomorrow, will anyone put the pieces together? will anyone care?” – and the answer is no, no matter how hopeful I am. Another overweight white geek with a penchant for Asian women that had hopes and dreams and was undergoing a journey to find himself.. woopdee-fucking-do.

We have a lot of answers to questions in this world.. its just a matter of arranging it in your head the way you want. Mix and match. It’s basically like when you were at the milk bar as a kid and you were picking what you wanted to go in your $1 bag of mixed lollies. Take what will give you the most pleasure and stuff it in the bag. No one person has all the answers – except you. The answers you choose to believe and live by. That makes you the person with all the answers, and your core/inner self/soul – or however you want to measure it – is what will tell you what is right.

You’re going to have it all figured out. It’ll just be a matter of time. Yes, you’re going to fuck up. But anyone that gets it 100% right the first time without trying is one lucky fucker, and if you’re reading this, chances are that isn’t you.

The thing they DON’T generally tell you though, is that after you have it all figured out, its all going to come down, shift, be questioned, and changed. Maybe in a week, maybe in 10 years. But shit changes. You change.

My advice? Don’t ask the big questions. Don’t wonder about yourself. Don’t try to prepare yourself for the future you want before you go out and take a shot at getting it. Suck it up. Learn as you go. Don’t waste time. Listen to yourself, but don’t listen to the fear holding you back. You can never ultimately prepare for everything, no matter how much reading, observing and practicing you do. Life is like a war, the best laid plans go out the window once the first shot is fired (a metaphor for submitting that resume, saying hi to that cute girl, telling that cunt at work to fuck off because you have no time for idiots anymore.)

You’re going to have to adapt. Don’t worry about your views. You can spend 5 years asking questions and get nowhere. Focus on getting what you want, and let your world view evolve through the journey. Building one beforehand is just like building your dream home and then having to demolish it and build another a year later.

You are the solid foundation. Build your dream house [life] on that clean slate, don’t waste time building something based on what OTHER people tell you only to have it destroyed in a short amount of time. No matter how it turns out, you will respect yourself, others will see you as strong, and people will speak highly of you.

And you know what? That will be your legacy.

One worth having.

..if you ask me (which you shouldn’t.)