Happy Smegdog

HEN-CHINBROOK DOWN FOR THE BOK-BOK-BOOKS

2011-12-05T19:14:00.005+11:00

HINCHINBROOK, NEW SOUTH WALES - A chicken has been spotted outside its home of Hinchinbrook Community Centre.

Residents of Hinchinbrook, a suburb in Sydney's south-west, were shocked to witness Juanjo, the community centre chicken, standing atop the hill between the Hinchinbrook and Miller T-Way bus stops at six o'clock in the evening.

"I couldn't believe my eyes," local historian Genvin In said, "Juanjo wasn't in the community centre. What was he doing away from the community centre?"

It is alleged that the entire incident was a forgery. Chief Inspector Jones, self-proclaimed poultry aficionado, claims that the one-year-old chicken's behaviour is highly unusual: "If the...chicken [Juanjo]...is in fact the community centre chicken, then what was he doing away from the community centre? That was not Juanjo."

The Smeg understands that Juanjo's disappearance from the community centre coincides with sightings atop the Hinchin-Miller hill. Dolores Cuntmuffin, who runs the daycare program at the community centre, was "horrified" to find Juanjo missing when she led the children out for their daily fowl observation at 5:50pm. In a Smeg exclusive, Ms Cuntmuffin said, "Juanjo is the community centre chicken. What is he doing away from the community centre?"

The news of Juanjo's disappearance breaks out just two months after police seized several unlicensed firearms in raids in the area.

Inside sources have refused to comment on any connection between the two events.

HAPPYSMEGDOG / DICKILEAKS: JESS T PUBLIC BREAKDOWN (SHE IS A BUMFACE)

2011-11-07T18:44:00.000+11:00

What's in a name?

For notorious Sydney blogger Jessica Tran, there may be a bit more than we realise.

An exclusive collaborative investigation between Happysmegdog and Dickileaks reveals that the seemingly light-hearted, sweet-but-cheeky humour that she has become known for may very well have not been the sole reason behind her seemingly innocuous Twitter handle @fartssica.

The real story? Jessica is a bum face.

One out of only four others in history, she is afflicted with a condition from birth where all orifices on her face do not have the usual functions we would expect from a mouth, nose and ears.

They are in fact small anal cavities; it is only through extensive cosmetic surgery, and a lifetime of training that she is able to converse normally without anyone knowing.

In our shocking new video interview (embedded below), she admits, between near-hysterical, flatulent sobs, that it has always been a source of embarrassment for her.

"I'm so sorry, I can't help it," she moaned, just barely audible over the steady stream of farts burbling uncontrollably from her face. "I'm so embarassed... please stop filming this."

Jessica, who has since hastily changed her Twitter handle to the more mature @JessLovesFred, has been unavailable for further interviewing.

Stream the interview below:

dumblr

2011-11-07T03:04:00.002+11:00

http://happygenvin.tumblr.com/

SUMMER BUTTS

2011-11-07T00:01:00.006+11:00

This is my "driving down the Hume Highway at night time" playlist. Click on photo to download.

Tracklisting (I actually thought this fucking thing through):

far out

2011-10-28T00:07:00.002+11:00

ON BEING A SICK CUNT: A VOMIT OF WORDS MANIFESTED IN DIGITAL TYPE

2011-10-25T17:37:00.010+11:00

I'll tell you about things that happen when you get sick.

It involves a lot of apologising for when you cough and splutter and a formidable section of lower intestine ends up draped over the left foot of the person you are talking to.

Initially you try something like, "Oh man that's a sick naked mole rat pelt you're sporting right there, how much did that baby set you back?" But soon enough, amidst the sweating, wheezing, and awkward darting eyes, you'll get caught out. (It's obvious this friend would never be able to afford that calibre of designer shoes anyhow)

YOUR FRIEND CAN'T AFFORD THIS SHIT DICKHEAD

Only none of that happened, because you weren't talking to anyone at all, you spent the day mostly in your room masturbating so that you could breathe properly (probably). The only instance that is even remotely close to what I just described was when you coughed and a bit of phlegm landed on the ground; you had to try and prevent your dog/cat/sibling/significant other from ravenously licking it off the floor, which was challenging when considering your weakened state, and the general consensus that your phlegm is possibly the most delicious thing on the earth.

By the end of the day you will have propelled nearly five times your weight in mucus, over your face, furniture, pets, the mouths of the hungry children that always seem to hang around your window for some reason, the postman, your favourite birthday card, your computer monitor, a pendant you don't remember owning, your prized ski mask, under your sheets, on the CD that played when you lost your virginity, the ceiling, a cardboard box you used to keep old photographs and pieces of hair in, on the poster you nicked from school, and on page 349 of Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood where the snot nearly perfectly frames the following passage, like a transparent gelatinous highlighter has passed over the print:

"Tell me about yourself," Midori said.

"What about me?"

"Hmm, I don't know, what do you hate?"

"Chicken and VD and barbers who talk too much."

"What else?"

"Lonely April nights and lacy telephone covers."

"What else?"

I shook my head. "I can't think of anything el

EXPECT THIS TO HAPPEN ON A FREQUENT BASIS; APPROX. EVERY 2-5 MIN.

Your throat will hurt so bad that you'll dig your fingernails into your tonsils and by the end of the day they'll be fleshy pink crater-covered asteroids stuck to the sides of your mouth and your fingernails will smell pretty bad.

You will not feel accomplished in any way, even if you finish all the television series you've been putting off, study so diligently that you're pretty much set for the next year or so, arrange the filth in your room into something barely manageable, or negate the need for social contact outside of your room due to your recently crafted life-size sculptures of all of your dearest friends (tissues and nail clippings held together by mucus, love, phlegm, spit and heartfelt memories).

IN CONCLUSION BEING SICK IS NOT EVEN THAT SICK AND I WISH SOMEONE WOULD NURSE ME AND GIVE ME ALL OF THE ATTENTION I DESERVE AND I HOPE THAT BY SHOUTING LOUD ENOUGH WITHOUT STOPPING SOMEONE ANYONE WILL NOTICE WHEN I STOP BREA

2011-10-21T22:03:00.006+11:00

On the way to Happysmegdog inc. co. executive meeting earlier today.

Early revenue reports show a 100000000% increase in profit with the move to alternative transport for all employees.

SMEG INTERVIEWS FASHION OVERLORD JESS T, LIVES TO TELL THE TALE

2011-10-18T23:43:00.007+11:00

NOW THAT THE SMEG HAS BECOME A LEGITIMATE NEWS SOURCE, OUR MISSION HAS BECOME TO DELIVER THE MOST HARD HITTING NEWS KNOWN TO MAN.

AS SUCH WE ARE BRANCHING OUT INTO ON-THE-STREET INTERVIEWS, DOWN IN THE DIRT WITH REAL AUSTRALIA.

TODAY THE AWARD WINNING SMEG NEWS CREW HAPPENED UPON JESS T, PROLIFIC FASHION BLOGGER, IN SYDNEY'S CBD.

JESS T IS A RISING STAR IN SYDNEY'S FASHION BLOGOSPHERE, BUT HER METEORIC RISE HAS NOT BEEN WITHOUT CONTROVERSY.

ONE TESTIMONIAL OF AN ANONYMOUS SOURCE CLAIMED, "I'M PRETTY SURE SHE IS A T-REX AND HAS A BLOG AND LOVES FASHION PLEASE DON'T TELL HER I SAID THAT SHE WILL EAT ME."

ANOTHER SOURCE STATED, "I TOLD HER I LIKED HER DRESS AND SHE TOLD ME 'I LIKE YOUR SOUL', I WOKE UP NAKED A FEW HOURS UNDER A RUBBLE OF EMPTY ASOS DELIVERY PACKAGES AND THE SMELL OF GRATED CHEESE LINGERING IN THE AIR."

FINALLY ONE HOSPITALISED HIGH SCHOOL GIRL TOLD US THAT, "I USED TO BREATHE OXYGEN AND EAT SOLID FOODS BEFORE I COMMENTED ON JESSLOVESFRED."

JESS T WAS SEEN IN THE PASSENGER SIDE OF A MERCEDES BENZ AND WE READIED AVANT-GARDE CAMERA OPERATOR MATTHEW, EVER-RELIABLE SENIOR REPORTER GENVIN, AND HAPPY-GO-LUCKY INTERN JULIE FOR WHAT COULD WELL BE THE INTERVIEW OF THE CENTURY.

VIDEO EMBEDDED BELOW.

ITALIAN CANNIBAL DEVOURS HEART OF VIETNAMESE YOUTH

2011-10-15T02:33:00.008+11:00

Police are searching for an Italian woman who has critically wounded a Vietnamese man in Bonnyrigg, in Sydney's west. Nineteen year-old Stephen Pham has been admitted to Westmead hospital and is currently in a critical condition, bleeding profusely out of the gaping wound in his chest.

"Bitch...muthafucka...ripped out...mah...heart...and eat it!" Pham wheezed.

The Smeg understands that Pham's account of events has been understated at best.

Medical reports reveal that Pham has sustained further injuries, including a hole in his soul and world in the shape of his aggressor. His injuries run the risk of infection after his attacker "shit and...pissed...my soul and...heart...out her....ass...into the wound".

The fugitive has been described as really really pretty with wavy brown hair and perfectly shaped eyebrows and an extremely banging rack.

"Justice must be served," Chief Inspector Detective Jones said in his phone call to the Smeg's offices immediately after hearing of the attack, "We will find this very very lovely lady and show her what a great guy Stephen is and what she's missing out on by having a boyfriend who is not him. That's the real crime."

Any information on this very attractive woman should be reported to Crimestoppers, contactable by phone at 131 444.

Contemplating,

2011-10-11T15:02:00.003+11:00

I will not settle for something based off anger, pity, and hatred.

This is a bridge I must burn at all costs.

Rain

2011-10-09T11:24:00.006+11:00

You wake up to the applause of raindrops striking the plastic awning outside your room.

Rain is a reminder that you don't plan for everything, whether by accident or design.

It's there, dripping from your hair, squelching between your toes in soggy socks, turning your familiar city into a foreign, almost hostile, jungle of skyscrapers and puddles and people huddled over.

Spontaneity, driving you to do things you might have never otherwise considered.

Maybe you'll duck into a cafe you've always passed but never entered, suddenly allured by the warmth of its colour scheme and swirling aromas and quiet chatter coming from large armchairs.

Maybe you'll be tempted by rippling puddles, and leap into them, splashing those around you, feeling the water soak into your canvas shoes.

Maybe you've brought an umbrella, and you're strolling along almost carefree, save for the hope that you don't accidentally poke out someone's eyes with your umbrella's ribs.

It must have been a year ago when you were caught in the rain, and roamed the entire city without an umbrella. You walked together for hours, no particular destination in mind, with conversation and company to keep you warm.

You remember the train ride back, when you broke into a smile and felt your heart leap every time you looked at each other. You remember thinking of how wonderful it was for all the dark clouds to come together and sprinkle rain over the city and clear it out, so that you could have it all to yourselves.

You step outside. It's the rain that seeps through your cotton layers and soaks your skin, that invokes one of your fondest memories. It's not nostalgia, because you aren't sad. Instead, you're grateful that you could have had such an amazing experience. You'd never expected to feel so happy, so at peace with yourself.

As you reach the car, you realise that you've forgotten your umbrella. You don't mind. Things don't always go as planned, for better or for worse.

Nike Trackpants

2011-10-08T21:42:00.007+11:00

I have this pair of tracksuit pants. They were black when I bought them from the Nike factory outlet in Silverwater, halfway through year 7. They're a dark shade of green now.

You might say that we've been through a lot together. I'd wear the pants to shaolin training, across the state, and, of course, at home. They are unbelievably comfortable.

Slipping them on makes me feel warm without feeling bulky. There's enough room for me to do high kicks (if I wanted to/could) but not so much that the fabric flaps around and annoys me. And, of course, there is the nostalgia attached to wearing a pair of pants that I've had for six years.

If you know me, you know I don't usually wear trackpants outside. Lately, I've been thinking about why exactly I don't want to be seen in trackpants in public. What I've concluded is that they're too comfortable. Wearing trackpants in public, to me, is like settling down for an aesthetic and a comfort that shows you're not really trying any more.

This is as opposed to the dark Cheap Mondays skinny jeans I usually wear. They're alright. They don't restrict my circulation too much, so, usually, I don't consciously notice that I'm wearing them. But sometimes I do, like when I'm trying to step over the backs of seats in the Red Centre and I don't quite make it, or when I'm sitting down and keep squirming and trying to find a comfortable position. So, on the whole, very much wearable, but not too comfortable at times.

I always say that I prefer jeans to trackpants because the tighter fit causes me to stand and sit upright, rather than slouch as I do when wearing trackpants. There's a little bit of truth to this. When I'm wearing jeans, I feel like I'm dressing up (relative to wearing trackpants). I feel like I'm dressing up, because I'm a little less comfortable, because I'm a little less inclined to be myself, because I'm out to impress.

I used to wake up on some mornings not wanting to wear jeans. I'd be tired of all the effort that I put in that would go largely unnoticed. On those mornings, I'd be bitter, I'd question the whole point of my life, because it would feel like I'm doing all this shit for nothing. I'd just want to slip on those Nike trackpants to satisfy no-one else but me.

But I don't. I can't. By taking away all the effort of dressing up, by dressing down, I'm doing a disservice to everyone. It'd be embarrassing for my friends to be seen with me, dressed like a slob. And, while comfortable and easy for me, wearing my trackpants will not help me at all. A huge part of who I am is my self-loathing, the mindset that who I am now is not good enough, that I have to keep changing. When I'm wearing jeans, I have to put in a little extra effort to change myself. In my trackpants, I'd be a static, unchanging version of me.

Honestly, I'm a little scared of who I am when I get too comfortable. I get really ugly. I disagree about everything, I get butthurt easily, and I am often thinking of ways to hurt those who've pissed me off. I'm a foulmouthed child, basically, and that's one of my biggest secrets. I want to move away from that, I want to move away from who I am now, because I know that I can be better than that.

So I never wear trackpants outside.

There are still mornings when I wake up and think about wearing my trackpants in public. The closest I can get is wearing them until the very last minute, when I realise that what I have is not what I want. I squeeze into my jeans, and go out into the world with a smile, hoping for the best.

NOW I SHALL REIGN IN BLOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-10-08T14:09:00.003+11:00

in which we do battle with a Guitar Hero controller and the katana that's always just laying around for some reason instead of being put up somewhere safe

THE FRUSTRATION OF LIVING BANALITY

2011-10-06T22:30:00.006+11:00

Last night, I woke up at 3a.m. to a dull pain coming from my wrists. I sat up. At the end of my wrists were hands that were not mine. Where my left hand used to be, Vivian's now was. Where my right hand was, Liem's now was. My heart was pumping blood into them which wasn't circulating back through my body, and it felt like these hands were going to burst with blood. The pain was still dull, but rose to an intolerable level. I might have groaned. I don't remember.

Wincing in the dark, I raised Liem's hand to my neck, trying to feel my pulse. I couldn't feel anything, but I could tell my heart was racing. I must have sat there, with Liem's hand pressed against my neck for a good ten minutes.

I decided to ignore it all: Vivian's left hand, Liem's right, both about to burst with blood; the dull ache in my wrists; my heart rate rapidly increasing. Lying on my side, I found the pain excruciating, the displacement of my own hands unsettling, the prospect of bloody pulps at the end of my wrists terrifying, the pneumatic drill in my chest too loud to ignore.

I could not sleep, I could not decide what I wanted to do, what there was to do. If there was anything to do at all.

So I projected my mind far off, to a time that was not this one. I would seek guidance from my ancestors' spirits. In what felt like half a day in the spirit world, a second would elapse in the real world. One second later, I knew what to do. I curled up in the fetal position and wept at the futility of it all.

*****

I went to my second-last ARTS1010 tutorial today. Without a doubt the highlight of uni this year. I love the people there, I love Jane Gleeson-White the tutor, I love the nurturing, creative environment. There has not been a tutorial which I have not enjoyed. Ever since that tutorial ended, I've been feeling something rising in me.

Anxiety. Regret. Fear. Nostalgia. Emptiness.

That's what I'll call them for now, but there are so many other things. Above all, is a sense of restlessness. I've already felt like I've wasted time before and after tutorials by not talking to people and not soaking up everything everything everything that has been right in front of me and I feel like ARTS1010 has been my life, a glimpse of all the happiness and aspirations and love condensed into a weekly class that lasts a little under an hour. And all the missed opportunities, all the regret, all the bad shit too. It's coming to an end, and all I can do is protest feebly, "It's too soon!"

So now, watching the not-quite-microcosm of my life falter to its end, I can only feel bad for all the things I've passed up. I loved that course, and I loved the people. Everything about it, everything that gave me a reason to wake up in the morning, all that will be gone.

And watching my own death, I've become restless. I don't want my life to be like that. I don't want regret at the end, I don't want to look back and see only the holes that I never bothered to fill in. I can't wait for anything. I want to do what I want to do, and nothing else, because I've waited in this mini-life of mine, I've waited for things to come to me, and some things have (spicy meatball and publishing opportunities in particular), but most things didn't and now I am dying and I'm not smiling but I'm crying because it's amounted to nothing, none of this on my own terms.

What I've built up, I want to tear down and burn and destroy. I am cruising through life, I am waiting for things to come to me and, while some things might come, others will require me to reach out. I don't want this life. I want more and less.

I want less of what I have, which is a lot of safety, a lot of comfort.

I want more chaos, more excitement, I want to wake up every day and spring out of bed because I am not doing that because there is nothing to be excited about, all I see are the same old sights and there is nothing new. I want the madness, the unpredictability, the rushing thrills, the crushing sorrows, I want blink-and-you'll-miss-it, I want to speak quickly, incomprehensible at times, I want to shout orders and feelings because there's not enough time, there's not enough time to not be heard to be ignored to consciously be nothing.

I want it all, all of that glorious nothing, all the pointlessness of living life, life, LIFE, so fuck this noise, fuck all of it, I'm going to do what I'm going to do, throw it all in the air, all the safety and security in my life, and maybe, just maybe, I'll feel something when it all comes crashing down.

dear diary,

2011-10-05T23:50:00.002+11:00

Today we checked out this weird Japanese place and I got the udon with vegetables + tofu $5.50 lunch special and this is what they gave me wth are you fuckin tytyty ily

WHAT YOU WANTED FOR CHRISTMAS PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE.

2011-10-02T23:46:00.005+11:00

WHAT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, THE PREMIERE OF THE NEXT EPISODE IN MY CONTINUING SAGA OF SKATEBOARDING AND SADNESS.

EXCLUSIVE TO THE SMEG.

BEHOLD.

AND NOW THE LONGEST THUS FAR IN THE SAGA, TRULY, A TALE THAT WILL LAST THE AGES.

Please read the info on the videos so I don't feel like I am wasting my life doing this.

HOW TO WIN AN ARGUMENT.

2011-09-30T20:28:00.001+10:00

He probably went off to cry while eating butt burgers.

am I Kanye yet

2011-09-30T13:00:00.001+10:00

2011-09-27T02:16:00.003+10:00

So Skate 3 has a pretty robust video editor, and I am a dickhead.

See for yourself.

Stephen wrote a thing about this one.

I only grind on physically manifested edges of emotion. I 50/50 between ennui and enlightenment

The onlookers stumble into one another as they try desperately to ignore the weeping skater.

EAT SLUGS, MALFOY!

2011-09-25T22:32:00.006+10:00

some old mans anus

2011-09-25T21:10:00.003+10:00

My dumb new phone has this function where it syncs up with my Facebook account and grabs all my Facebook friends' numbers and dumps them on my phone, and it also automatically uses each person's Facebook default photo as the contact photo. If you're a dickhead like me, though, chances are you've got a bunch of people saved as stupid nicknames (Bleshbot 6000, Jie Jie Mough, Turd Girl, Handyman Bob, Modest Bob, Honest Bob, etc) as opposed to the person's actual name, which means a fair lot of people ended up with blank contact photos. Don't you hate that I sure do good. If you happen to be any one of those people I've just listed, or anyone else who'd probably be found in my phone under a horribly mangled version of their own name, though, don't fret! I've taken the time out to take enough photos of Matt to fill in all the awkward blanks. Here are a few of them. I know this post might be full of shit but I'm trying to push the one with the snail out of the front page so I won't have to look at it every time I check this stupid blog for comments.

From memory, this photo went to Andrew Do's Mum's entry in my phone contact book. I'm really not sure why I have it, especially seeing as how I've never really talked much to Andrew Do, but it's been there since forever. I guess it's not technically a nickname, but it's probably a safe bet to say that I don't have Andrew Do's Mum on Facebook.

This is the contact photo for 'Oojin.' Aww yeah, go on honey, flash us yer teeth, reaaal nice.

I remember having some sort of legitimate reason to save it as Dannis Beowls Trinh as opposed to just Yannis or Fannis like I used to have it saved as. Maybe I'm just imagining things because I don't think anyone has a good reason to use the word beowls, ever.

the end

what the heck pt1

2011-09-25T21:06:00.001+10:00

sometimes we wait for the bus

Dear Genvin,

2011-09-25T13:00:00.002+10:00

Look at that moisture on her arm and hand, probably from the snail's slimy belly rubbing all over her. Truly, a miracle of nature.

Your dick farts and queefs

2011-09-24T14:39:00.003+10:00

"a bumpy nyu nyu"

2011-09-22T17:05:00.002+10:00

anyway, HAHS class of 2011 graduated today

2011-09-21T19:40:00.002+10:00

It's the volume that gets me. Some guys talking behind me, always behind me, their words booming throughout the morning bus. Christ, it's not even nine yet.

I try to concentrate on my music, but I can't.

The next thing is the topic of conversation. Work, work, work. Does anyone really give a shit? Like, does anyone seriously walk away from the bus thinking, Oh my, he does have a lot of homework. Gee whiz! MY GUESS IS NO.

And the phoniness, oh man. Dat phoniness. Acting like they are completely interested, throwing in hmms and ah, yes! to pretend they're listening, nodding so viciously I almost fear that their heads will fall off (I say almost because if it actually did fall off, maybe the conversation would fucking stop).

They're talking at warpspeed, as if there is a quota they need to fulfill for words spoken per minute, lest they get shot and killed by the Guardian of Non-Awkward-Conversation. I don't know what I'm talking about, honestly, so I'm going to cut the crap and get to the whole point of this thing.

CHILL. THE FUC. K. OUT.

If you've ever talked to me, you'll notice that there are often long pauses. Conversation goes by slowly, and I don't make too many jokes.

I'm a shit conversationalist, to be fair, but, unless I'm staring intensely at something, determined not to talk, usually I just don't really mind taking conversation slowly. It might not be the most interesting thing for others, but it's the pace I want to go at.

I am probably tired, and I don't have the energy to go LOL HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAAHHAHHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAHAAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAAAHHAHAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAAHAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

WASN'T THAT FUNNY OMG THAT WAS SO FUNNY

Yeah, no, fuck that.

Anyway, yeah. That was a blog. Most of the time, I just want to talk about the kind of shit that you'd talk about over a beer or on the late night train back, and that's what I usually try to do, just like, you know, slow conversation.

And please don't 'awkward turtle' me. The only turtle is your dick.

???QUE???

2011-09-21T18:18:00.003+10:00

Sorry pt. 2

2011-09-21T00:06:00.004+10:00

You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life.

Winston Churchill

2011-09-16T18:17:00.002+10:00

You know when there's a low humming or a high-pitched squeal that goes on in the background and you don't notice it until someone points it out and you can't stop noticing it then?

That's what this is.

So I turn it to you.

Doesn't it feel like there's something that you should be doing right now? Doesn't it feel like there should not be a thing unfathomable to you? Don't you sometimes think that you have been placed into a room with glass walls and told that you are free?

See, I know where my walls are. I watch those outside, truly free, and my face twists, envious.

If I were outside, if I weren't here, I would run far away from that room, to a place where I could do whatever the fuck I want. Juggle ten odd jobs and love them all. Learn to sew and work with leather. Travel on foot and on bike and by car and by bus and by plane and by boat. Play guitar.

I'd do shit and not give a shit and fuck university.

I am giving you eighteen years of my life because you have given me eighteen of yours. But no more. I don't like this.

cattysmegdog

2011-09-16T13:27:00.000+10:00

hey I don't think I post enough photos of Kiara here so here's another

xTreMe Sports: Matthew Carroll

2011-09-16T13:23:00.001+10:00

#radiance #youth #beauty

Sorry

2011-09-11T21:59:00.001+10:00

Hey,

Even though this isn't a particularly (read: at all) funny or poignant or even really interesting story, (to be honest I don't think you should be bothered reading it, and it feels incredibly odd me putting this here (I saw someone force a sandwich into a cassette radio once (it's like that))) but, I will tell it.

Listen though, I'll cut out ~~all~~ some of the extraneous details for you so you can get back to whatever it is you want/are supposed to do be doing.

Long story short, I was walking through Sydney's CBD recently, on the way to somesuch place, it doesn't really matter where.

Oh, and I was with three other people - a female, and two males to be exact.

Navigating through Sydney's city streets with equal amounts of malaise and tiredness, we passed one of the entrances of St. James station, and walked into Hyde Park.

-------------------------------------------------

Incidentally, today marks the 10th year since 9/11. Someone, somewhere could probably extrapolate something meaningful, or insightful, or snarky, or witty, (but most probably depressingly lame) from the fact that I am typing up a blog post on the same date as one of the most significant events in my (our), of course disregarding those life-shattering moments in which your preconceptions and everything you once held true are called into question. Anyway, back to story.

-------------------------------------------------

Cautiously, slowly and very deliberately, a man rises up from a park bench, (with feigned exasperation, as I would later find out) starts walking beside us, and says wearily:

"Eh, you look like cool kids, you reckon you could lend me some money?"

Truth be told I hadn't any cash. I had given half of it to another homeless man who carried his dog in a small hand bag - the pup made his way into the bag on his own, and didn't once look up as the zip travelled from tail to head, he was probably used to the routine, I guessed.

Other half was placed in a bucket at Pitt St, where I gave a small pittance to three impossibly frenetic Japanese doubledutch-ers for what seemed like the 20th time.

Mind you, the plain and simple fact that I hadn't any money didn't deter the man. If I gave him the reasons I stated above, it probably wouldn't have had any effect either.

Explaining that I hadn't any money, it seems I spoke for all of us, and the other three nodded in silent agreement when I told him.

Eyes shifting lazily from side to side, the hunched man attempted to barter with the most illogical of terms, in increasingly impatient tones,

"There any chance then you have an EFTPOS card, or a credit card, or a savings account instead?"

You can understand why we all kept silent at this point.

On seeing this, he suddenly stood upright, began walking behind us, and spoke with a harsher, suddenly invigorated voice. I looked back at his face as he followed us; before it was stricken with shadows like valleys of flesh under stormclouds. Now, they were twisted and taut and his eyes were no longer weary but angry to the point of tears.

Ululating, he mimed one of us while walking, and shouted, "Oi you, you think you're a big cunt?! I could snap you in half over my knee!" He stumbled into a fighting stance. My friend turned around to look at him, and for whatever reason, at the exact moment we all looked at him, the man fell onto the paved stone next to Archibald Fountain and started convulsing and twitching, the people around us didn't seem to notice and we kept walking.

INTRODUCING MATT

2011-09-10T22:59:00.006+10:00

Matt, left, with our resident expert, Genvin, right.

"Everyone in the world is to the right of the image" - Matt

Matt is the latest seaman to climb on board the S.S. Smegdog. Matt has very shaggy hair and often sports a moustache. He got his shoes repaired at Central. Matt knows where to find good food and often has what he calls "micro-dreams". We played Tekken 5 and Soul Calibur 3 for five hours one time. It was good. I don't know what he's going to be writing about but it's probably going to be better than anything you've seen here for the past 3 years.

"We received a call from the Internet"

2011-09-10T14:09:00.003+10:00

I met Jane in the Accounting 1A tutorial that we had together. At first glance, she reminded me of Genvin's sister, Stephanie, but I was wrong. She had this particular sticker on her book of a sun wearing sunglasses with a big grin. When I saw that, Jane started to resemble, oddly enough, that grinning sun rather than Stephanie.

Jane was an international student, hailing from Indonesia. Her accent gave that away; a mostly flat, American-esque accent with some unusual intonations (or so it seemed to me). There were other things that made her stand out as an international student, from the foam thongs she often wore, to the personalised Winnie the Pooh labels on her stationery, to that smell of soap she radiated, rather than the organic fruit whatevers that most Australian girls use (I know that olfactory description sounds creepy, as if I sat behind her and leaned in when she wasn't looking and inhaled deeply with thoughts of bliss swimming around in my head, but that didn't happen. I just sat next to her, and when someone next to you smells like something it's hard not to notice (I know that sounds even creepier in its specificity, but I assure you, it has never happened)). She had a peachy view of the world, that is, one that was not at all jaded. I couldn't tell whether or not this was just a personality quirk of hers, or if it was because she hadn't seen enough of the fucked up things in the world to become jaded enough.

A few weeks after the midsem break, when Jane, Thi, and I were walking down the main walkway from the Civil Engineering Building where our tutorial was held, I figured it out. She was going to the Bruno Mars concert the night after, and told us, with a smile, what she had been doing the night before. "I had so much fun on YouTube last night! I was watching videos of Bruno Mars and I'm so excited!"

That was it. "I had so much fun on YouTube". This exact phrase revealed to me that she was still innocent, untouched by the darker side of the Internet. I can't help but feel as if Jane and I have been exposed to completely different sides of the Internet and, by extension, the world.

I guess that Jane never had her eyes forcibly opened to all that is wrong in the world. She'd never had the hands of Goatse stretch apart the stinky curtains to the freak show that is the Internet, moist fingers firmly digging in to reveal its fleshy and horrifying insides. She'd never had to look on with equal parts horror and fascination the Man of Glass, or the Shit Twins, or the Human Juicer. Jane didn't know that for a mere $500, you can get three girls to eat each others shit and shit out the shit and eat the shit that was once their own.

Jane smiles and laughs a lot when we talk. I don't often have a reason to smile and laugh as she does, and I feel sympathy and a bit of envy for her innocence. Sympathetic for the day she becomes corrupted, for the imminent trauma awaiting her. Envious of the bliss that I can never touch again.

THE EARTH STANDS STILL AND QUIVERS LOTS IN DESPAIR

2011-09-10T13:35:00.003+10:00

IN WHAT HAS BEEN DEEMED THE SHITTIEST NEWS ON EARTH EVER, GENVIN IN, RECENTLY CROWNED WORLD CHAMPION OF ATHLETES, HAS LOST HIS WALLET AT SOME POINT DURING THE FILMIN GOF THE STUPID OLYMPIC CUP VIDEO .

AS HORRIFIED FANS FLOCK TO THE STREETS IN PROTEST, UPDATES REGARDING THE LOSS MAY BE FOLLOWED VIA GENVINS TWITTER ACCOUTN WHICH MIGHT ACTUALLY BE THE BEST AND FUNNIEST TWITTER ACCOUNT EVER TO BE MADE EVER LIKE HES SO WITTY AND HEAPS COOL AND SHIT

'FUCK MY GAY LITTLE LIFE' GENVIN SAID

THE NEWS

IM BORED OF THIS POST

astro shit

2011-09-09T23:03:00.002+10:00

good times, grt clssic hits

inspiration.

2011-09-09T22:58:00.002+10:00

taken September 19, 2010. wow, I was actually the sickest cunt back then

it's not offensive if it's really funny

2011-09-09T21:41:00.002+10:00

The other night, Stephen, Matthew and I hung out on my couch and played video games until three in the morning. It rocked. Towards the end of the night, Matt fell asleep and Stephen and I suddenly remembered that Soul Calibur lets you create your own character to fight with. Not wasting any time, we very quickly ended up creating a character named N1GGERFAGG0T and it was the fucking funniest thing in the entire world

splat

2011-09-09T21:34:00.000+10:00

omg

Genvin In, T10A, tut prep week 6 wendy harmer exercise

2011-09-09T21:28:00.002+10:00

he sure is the champion

genvin in world champion of athlete

2011-09-09T21:20:00.002+10:00

BY THE WAY IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT I LOST MY WALLET AT SOME POINT DURING THE FILMING OF THIS SO THEREFORE THIS IS A SAD VIDEO ALTHOUGH THIS DOESN'T MAKE IT ANY LESS IMPRESSIVE I AM AFTER ALL THE CHAMPION

featuring an original soundtrack by the Gaybos

OOH OOH OOHH, OH FADER, OHH

2011-09-08T18:38:00.002+10:00

HAHAHA EAT MY SHIT EVERYONE I won this $50 iTunes card for singing the chorus to Fader in public outside Liverpool plaza while annoyed passers-by passed by. I was supposed to sing for 30 seconds to win the card but they stopped me early because I was that bad and gave me the card anyway so I win

more powerful than ever

2011-09-07T11:41:00.001+10:00

Matt - steampunk enthusiast and bike extraordinaire.

jess loves frend.

2011-09-02T23:19:00.001+10:00

Here is a preview of what I've decided to do for the next few hours. Good.

2011-09-02T19:25:00.002+10:00

High School Daze

2011-08-29T00:54:00.007+10:00

I always wonder what I'd be doing if I didn't go to uni. Probably, between stints of being a commando and bartender, carrying on as if I were in high school, doing stupid shit without repercussion. I miss recess.

M. Ough

2011-08-26T19:10:00.001+10:00

2011-08-24T21:05:00.001+10:00

We don't talk too often now, but I'd like to think that, one of these days, we could sit down and pick up our conversation from where we last left it.

jess loves slayer

2011-08-22T22:34:00.000+10:00

i love your blog

2011-08-22T14:23:00.000+10:00

POSITIVE MENTAL ATTITUDE

2011-08-21T23:26:00.003+10:00

It seems as if everyone pushing for positivity tells us, over and over: "don't focus on what you don't have. Rather, focus on what you DO have". In fact, I do follow this school of thought, but in dire circumstances, I think that people should be allowed to revert to realism. I mean, if you really think about it, a person who has had to kill a person against their will and eat their flesh and then cut off their own arm and eat it wouldn't exactly be thinking, "Oh man, I am so glad I have running water in my home 700km away". And there's nothing wrong with that.

That said, here is an objective list of the things that I do and do not have right now:

I DO HAVE:

A splitting headache
Continuous wheezing as I breathe
Incredibly bad circulation and cold feet and a runny, yet blocked, nose
Three mid-semester exams in the coming week
An attention span that is shortening at an alarming rate
Head congestion
A bin slowly filling with phlegm
Bad eyesight
Some snot/phlegm right in the deep recesses of my sinus such that I cannot get it out at all
Incredibly dry, itchy skin that's been scratched raw
15% body fat

I DON'T HAVE:

Excellent health
Good weather as an opportunity for exercise
Motivation
FUN
Great neighbours who have lovely voices
An inexpensive treatment for Carpel Tunnel Syndrome
Money
A fun future ahead of me
Enough time to do what I want to do
Men's asses

Well, there you go. Life is great.

It's not as if I'm not allowed to be upset.

So, humility.

2011-08-20T21:05:00.003+10:00

Humility is wanting to complain, taking a step back to examine yourself and what you wanted to say as closely as possible, deciding whether or not you are being a whiny, spoilt child, and then, having decided that you are in fact not doing so, complaining.

Humility is knowing that you are not the only person with opinions and feelings and problems, and, in your everyday interactions with people, making sure that you treat these with respect, as you would like your own views to be respected.

Humility is acknowledging that you don't know everything, and that everyone has something that they can teach you, whether directly, where they tell you something outright, or indirectly, when you observe and learn. It's being sure that what you want to say is correct, because you know that your words have the potential to change something for someone, for better or for worse, and that it's better to err on the side of caution.

I think that humility is vastly underrated and that arguments are overrated.

hahaha wee dick worm

2011-08-20T13:19:00.000+10:00

BITCH CUM CRAWLIN BACK

2011-08-20T01:46:00.003+10:00

FACK YOUSE ALL, I'M BACK!!!!!

the technogoat

2011-08-18T22:10:00.002+10:00

Sometimes Stephen comes over to my house

probably make sure your speakers aren't turned too high

Katie sed, 'TLC'

2011-08-09T21:05:00.001+10:00

Word jumble courtesy of Jully. Answers in tomorrow's, or something

see deez nuts

2011-08-08T23:01:00.000+10:00

so tall and lean, such a dream

2011-08-06T13:55:00.001+10:00

roses are red / violets are blue / fuck you whore

2011-08-06T12:05:00.003+10:00

terrapin summer by gout

Here is a thing I did like a billion years ago but never posted for some reason.

HAPPYSMEGDOG READER EVALUATION SURVEY

2011-08-02T23:55:00.001+10:00

I was scrolling through my Formspring from ages ago and found this survey I wrote up for readers. What the hell is this shit?

1. How did you hear about HappySmegdog.blogspot.com? (tick all that apply)
[] Magazine
[] Friend
[] Website (please specify: _________________)
[] School
[] Poster
[] Radio
[] Telephone
[] Keyboard
[] Song
[] www.utube.com
[] Officeworks
[] Restaurant
[] Surf shop
[] Stephen's mums shop
[] Lucky Lucky Hot Hot
[] Soozy
[] Kiara
[] Board game
[] DVD
[] eBay
[] Postcard from an American relative
[] Aldi
[] Watching Avatar
[] 2u math
[] 3u math
[] Warehouse
[] Library
[] Daily Announcements
[] Newspaper
[] iPod
[] Beach
[] Korean music
[] http://www.myspace.com/2167band
[] Tumblr
[] Jenn
[] Ngo and Sons Tutoring Centre
[] http://www.formspring.me/genvinout
[] Behind a hose
[] Aisle 11
[] Trade Secret
[] Bonaman
[] A book about cats
[] World of Warcraft Trade chat
[] Inside a seashell
[] Mobile telephone
[] Satellite
[] Channel 10
[] Inside an envelope
[] Cereal giveaway
[] Yu-Gi-Oh Sweepstakes 2007
[] Valley Plaza Pharmacy
[] Blowing your nose
[] John Michael Batehup
[] World of Warcraft General chat
[] Vodka Jelly
[] Google Michael Chrome
[] Netbattle Supremacy
[] On a USB Drive
[] Nursery rhyme
[] On the floor
[] Greater Union Cinemas
[] The piggery
[] A specific shirt
[] Brian's car
[] A really fun photo
[] Beyblade Battle Association Australia Tournament
[] ShrimpChat
[] Evony
[] In the sand
[] Michael Hills
[] Prawnjuice
[] In a bucket
[] Fancy Feast Turkey Prime Filet
[] Really big carrot
[] Google
[] On board the Taco Bus
[] The Forest of Arden
[] On a basketball
[] Birthday card, or present
[] Helms Deep
[] Gym Class Heroes concert
[] Webcam
[] Claudia Schiffer Naked Naked Naked
[] The wind
[] Illidan Michael Stormrage
[] A big box
[] Madonna song
[] MyChonny is a fucking faggot
[] Promotional disc
[] Microsoft
[] Rhianna
[] Guitar Hero 3
[] Dark Dragon
[] Big bottle of piss and turd
[] Gossip Girl book
[] Black Temple
[] A giant, skyscraper-sized puppy
[] Inside a TV
[] Mr Rabbit
[] fucking a piss of shit faggot sucker fucks an dick balls of cum steel
[] SMS
[] Mr Craig's ears
[] Punching your aunt in the face
[] Binder book
[] Kuma's shit
[] Reader's Digest
[] A trout
[] Dumbledore's computer
[] Eugene Krabs
[] Other (please specify: _________________)

2. How often do you visit the Smeg? (tick one)
[] Rarely
[] Occasionally
[] Often
[] Never
[] Always
[] Sometimes
[] 50-50
[] Tomorrow
[] The golden ratio
[] Whenever
[] Once a month
[] Two tablespoons worth per litre
[] Once a mouth
[] First Saturday of every month
[] In the middle of the night, when the time is right
[] When the moon is five thirds full, on the eve of breaking sun in lights of halm
[] http:/wshapysmegfdog.blgspot.com

3. How happy with you are you the Happy Smegdog?
[]

4. Which section of the Smeg do you enjoy the most?
[] Rap section
[] Columns
[] Comics
[] Sports with Jbt Jamie Zheng
[] Kidzone
[] Dinosaur Review
[] reders poll
[] Letters to the editor
[] Crosswords
[] A book reviews
[] gothpunksta666
[] a big

DAILY TELEGRAPH JULY 30 2011

2011-07-30T23:35:00.002+10:00

genjie thursdays

2011-07-29T22:08:00.002+10:00

This is what happens to every single face in the paper if you give Jully a pen and a copy of mX on the train ride home. The best jie.

sofa gong / jackie chan big tits

2011-07-29T21:51:00.003+10:00

This took me like forty minutes

HAHAHA

2011-07-28T22:25:00.002+10:00

HERE'S A PHOTO OF MATT'S ASIAN DOPPELGANGER, HOLY SHIT!

He actually kinda looks like what'd come out if Matt and Rob Abergas mated.

OOOOH YOU SO SEXXXYYY GURR

2011-07-25T22:38:00.004+10:00

HEY THERE SEXXY HUNNY BOI YOU LOOKIN' FOR A GOOD TIME

HOW TO WATCH THE FUCKIN SIMPSONS

2011-07-23T19:33:00.004+10:00

IF YOU ARE ANYTHING LIKE ME (AND LET'S HOPE NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) THEN YOU'VE KINDA JUST SPENT THE LAST FEW MONTHS WITHOUT THE SIMPSONS AND ARE GETTING REALLY FRUSTRATED BECAUSE YOU CAN'T FIGURE OUT WHEN IT IS ON WELL TODAY I AM ENDING THE BULL SHIT ONCE AND FOR ALL HA HA PLAY TIME IS OVER

MONDAY - N/A, WATCH FUTURAMA INSTEAD AT 7:30

TUESDAY - 7:30 GOOD

WEDNESDAY - 7:30, AND AGAIN AT 8:30 HOLY SHIT

THURSDAY - HOLY DOUBLE SHIT!! 7:30, AND ANOTHER ONE RIGHT AFTER THAT AT 8

FRIDAY - N/A. THERE IS ALSO NO FUTURAMA, WHAT

SATURDAY - N/A AGAIN, AND ONCE AGAIN, NO FUTURAMA, WHO'S IDEA WAS FRIDAY AND SATURDAY DICK FLOP MCIDIOT

SUNDAY - 7:30 AGAIN, AND FOLLOWED BY FUTURAMA YES YES OH BOY DOUBLE PLUS GOOD

ALSO IT'S ON CHANNEL 11 WHATEVER TF THAT IS I DON'T EVEN KNOW, WHEN I TYPE 1-1 ON MY REMOTE IT TAKES ME TO SOME OTHER FUCKIN WEIRD CHANNEL AND FOR SOME REASON MY CHANNEL 11 IS SET TO 5-5 I DON

14 crowns

2011-07-23T18:29:00.001+10:00

busting heads

2011-07-23T15:56:00.000+10:00

the screaming cucumbers

2011-07-23T13:39:00.003+10:00

What Julie did on the train to uni the other day. SICK INK BRAH

I eat too much

2011-07-19T21:31:00.000+10:00

wtf am I

2011-07-13T17:57:00.000+10:00

meowls jackson

2011-07-09T12:06:00.001+10:00

Here's this video I've been working on for like months, but will kinda never be finished because it turns out that I didn't shoot enough. Poo.

LA CUCARACHAS

2011-07-08T19:46:00.001+10:00

tomato ketschup

2011-07-05T23:18:00.001+10:00

sweat, baby sweat

2011-06-30T18:26:00.002+10:00

In other film news, here is me starring in the official music video for The Bad Touch by Bloodhound Gang.

the drugz - official trailer

2011-06-30T17:45:00.001+10:00

A few weeks ago, I posted a little teaser of a short film Stephen wrote a while ago and plans to finish filming and editing over the course of the uni break, titled The Drugz. Today, amidst practicing a cover of KiD CuDi's Erase Me and eating bread, noodles and cordial, we got round to filming the first few scenes of the film. Here is the official trailer. Tell your friends! Or don't, probably.

The Drugz. A short film by Stephen Pham. Winter 2011.

I think one of these is Robert

2011-06-29T16:05:00.000+10:00

sweety beowls

2011-06-29T14:50:00.004+10:00

I know I'm extremely late, but I FINALLY got round to throwing out all my Year 12 shit. Amongst the fat stacks of paper covered in math shit and like a billion scans from WW1 books from Modern, I found this drawing of a beowl, by Blosia, hee hee

lol smeg

2011-06-28T22:47:00.002+10:00

THIS HAS JUST BEEN BROUGHT TO MY ATTENTION.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Red_Dwarf_concepts#Smeg

nucleus

2011-06-26T23:37:00.002+10:00

Dear You. You know who you are, but you actually don't at the moment, because it feels like far too long since you threw life to the wind and flew against the current. I hope this letter finally begins the onset we've been waiting for.

Firstly though, take solace in how no one will understand this. This is just me and you, a closed exhibition to a walking wide open happy public who won't ever get efforts through this grey veneer, a monolithic nothing message wrapped in tight weaves of trash rose prose. Just me and you, with all the time in the world to thrash back like white waves through the dense black and rise and destroy, desperate outreached hands flailing for familiarity that shouldn't and will not come, spluttering for air until we're back in the sky again. Not long now, I think.

You wonder about the stories sometimes and we wonder if we're killing ourselves like this. The silver lining won't always shine through, but I figure it's only a matter of playing out the wait until we tear the clouds down too and the sky shines brighter than crashing blinding reflections. We're better off this way. Sealed lips aren't hurting anyone when we're clenched as tight as white cracked fists, compressing our being into a density as nothing as much as it is everything, as standalone and all-encompassing as stars burning in black infinite expanse. We see the screaming bones ripping through worn skin, but this is what we are now. It will not happen again.

That said, you need an outlet. You don't know how long we can continue to stomp out fires with nothing but our bare skin, but this is how we operate, unskilled and stumbling in the dark, ignorant of better judgement, and these bitter fleeting ashes of dead red flesh are daily reminder of atrocities at our own stupid hands. Maybe one day, maybe soon, we'll finally make it out of the wasteland and back out into the light, skin ripped, but smiling, smiling because we know we've finally figured it all out, and we can finally sleep, warm in the knowledge that love is all. But until then, we run.

I don't need to explain who this is from.

If you think this is addressed to you, it isn't.

bein' extreeeme

2011-06-26T18:52:00.002+10:00

legitimacy

2011-06-26T16:24:00.002+10:00

Here's a thing I made. You can probably stop after the first ten seconds or so because the rest is the same thing looped.

in my schleps, my soul's on fire

2011-06-26T00:57:00.003+10:00

ice cream

2011-06-24T23:48:00.002+10:00

Sorry for just posting lots of videos, but here is a video Lawrence made called 'Bxtn Crotch Shots.' More quality from the hands of the Freshmaker.

vv

2011-06-23T19:21:00.001+10:00

Anyway, Lehana and I are stars in Phil's English Extension 2 short film, titled Matthew 24:43. We play Luke and Stella. Anyong.

old habits die hard

2011-06-23T12:22:00.001+10:00

Oh boy, I don't even listen to Matt and Kim, but I thought their new video was heaps heaps good.

remember how I'm chinese, oh yes this makes me happy

2011-06-21T20:09:00.002+10:00

What me and Dannis did today yes that's hair

the fake one

2011-06-21T12:37:00.002+10:00

Photos of Brendan Byron will now be my go-to thing for when I can't think of things to blog about

and we'll fall out into the street and into some taxxeeezz

2011-06-20T13:08:00.002+10:00

I did just take this from FasterLouder

DEAF LEOPARD

2011-06-17T19:28:00.003+10:00

DEAFLEOPARD (ROUGH) by DEAF LEOPARD

Anyway, as I mentioned a while ago, I've been writing a bunch of songs, a process which has been sped up ever since I borrowed Dannis' drumkit, and since I have nothing to do now that I'm on break and most people still aren't, I've been finishing them off and recording them. This actually takes ages since I still can't play drums for shit and I'm not a very good singer (or musician, in general), but I finally got round to finishing one today, hurray! It's not actually perfect yet - there are still lots of bits where I go out of time - so I'm planning to re-record this sometime next week, as well as a few of the other ones I've been working on.

As with just about everything else I write (Garage Bear, for example), I don't imagine that many people will really get into it, but I personally like them a lot, which I think is what writing music should be about.

Here's some album art that I've been working on too to go with. I figured people really like Animal Collective, so it might encourage people to like my music too. Same goes for kissing and sunshine. Probably not so much a slug threesome, but y'know.

.. just to clarify, Deaf Leopard is the name of the project, as well as this song.

effort

2011-06-15T15:39:00.003+10:00

What I made in IST for an assignment one year. I probably got really good marks for this.

EDIT: ... probably don't even bother going Rainbow Mountain

Don't you remember the days of bums skateboard ?

2011-06-15T12:20:00.001+10:00

LUNCHTIME SHIT

2011-06-14T01:49:00.002+10:00

Here's a video Bob took ages ago of us playing flips one day with the White Boys. SRS MISSING HIGH SCHOOL LUNCHTIME ANTICS.

IT'S THE WOLF, GANG, WOLF, GANG, WOLF, GANG, WOLF, GANG IT'S THE

2011-06-14T01:03:00.007+10:00

EVER SINCE I WATCHED OFWGKTA'S PERFORMANCE OF SANDWITCHES ON JIMMY FALLON I'VE KINDA THOUGHT THAT HODGY REMINDED ME OF SOMEONE I KNEW, BUT I COULD NEVER QUITE PUT MY FINGER ON WHO. Turns out it was just Dannis when he was running around on muckup day, from Phil's second HAHS Class of 2010 video. I think it's just because they both have masks on, and they're both tall, skinny and dark.

Speaking of Dannis - miss BobAndDannis.blogspot.com / Hipster101? Me too, but luckily, Dannis recently made an account on Twitter, and it's probably one of the best things to ever happen to Twitter ever. His tweets mostly revolve around masturbating, humour at the expense of Aboriginal people, and him taking what other people tweet and replacing key words with rude words, so you should probably follow him. Here is a quick selection of choice cuts.

http://twitter.com/#!/dannwas

count your bleshings

2011-06-14T00:54:00.002+10:00

yeeaaaapp.

GOBBUN

2011-06-12T18:47:00.001+10:00

AHHHH, I REMEMBER...

TTRROONN

2011-06-12T18:42:00.002+10:00

GRT CLSSC HTS.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

2011-06-12T14:27:00.005+10:00

At some point during the post-HSC beach house trip that Hyperspace crew went on, I thought it'd be a really funny joke to pretend to be a butler and periodically deliver Simon refreshments, like fresh-toasted chocolate-filled donuts on a plate, or icy glasses of lemonade, complete with little hand-made cards. In hindsight, really not sure why I thought it was so funny...

swag!

2011-06-09T23:27:00.003+10:00

Yachow! Totally forgot that Dollar Day was today, so I talked my mum into coming with me to the 7/11 near mine (L-plate lyf, what up) at like 10pm and grabbed some stuff for all the other peepz who forgot too, aka pretty much all of Media crew and Stephen. SRS WISHING I'D BOUGHT MORE.

ofwgkat

2011-06-09T13:22:00.000+10:00