What? My hangover hurts.

Hey you 3 readers, can I ask one simple question?

Ok, cool thanks...

WHY THE FUCK IS ZAC EFFRON NOT HAVING A FACEBOOK OR TWITTER ACCOUNT CONSIDERED NEWSWORTHY?

Seriously, is this what our lives are boiling down to? Sure, 20 years ago not having a phone would have been considered a little strange, you'd probably think you were 'living off the grid". But somewhere down the line, someone seems to have decided you don't really exist and you're probably a little deranged if you don't have some kind of internet account.

Yes, yes. I know, I am on the interweb too. I spend part of my day reading up on my friends' lives and ignoring the add requests of people I once knew back in high school, never had anything in common with and never ever will. The age of voyeurism and passive rejection is well and truly upon is. But has this kind of thing become so ingrained in our identities that somebody (whether a celebrity or not) not being involved in this bullshit would be considered indicative of some sort of technological retardation?

'Yo man, that Zach Effron has 3 arms... and no facebook account"
'Whaaat dude, no facebook? But like, he's famous and shit!"

ARRRRRG! Get the fuck out!

Anyway, it has been a while since I have written here, and things have changed. I am absolutely loving life. I'm about to move to Wembley downs to live with my best friend, Uni is incredible and I'm well and truly surviving. My new musical project brings me much satisfaction with no irritation or even hard work. Things are great, though I'm still single and sick of it. It will also be a little sad when I leave my 'life partner" Davey C (that one was for you Grub), I just don't know what I'll do when it comes time to watch more 30 Rock and anything that could remotely replace The Shield in my life.

Yes, The Shield is a fucking awesome show and it'll rip your heart out and you'll be left doing nothing but screaming 'AYYYYYY" just like Peanuts Meldrum.

Anyways, I'm starting to ramble (well not really starting, it's all i ever do), so im peacin' out.

Much love!

Ach, Ah Do Nae Ken, Lassie!

Sooooo-AH!

Today finds your narrator skull deep in the mists of post-beerage, contemplating his first day of university studies. The deliberation is as such:

Uni is pretty fucking sweet (thus far). Sure, I've only had 1 hour of 'lecture' and I spent the next 4 hours trying to absorb jugs of stag with the power of mah braaaaiiiiin-AH... and doing significant damage with the customary booze consumption method, but fuck you I do what I want.

Matthew Sykes is a blessing. Good times. Good crew. Gorgeous crew.
Also, the beer tasted like freedom. And summer mornings. Also a little like celebrity cameos.

So now I am fully committed to the next stage of my life, my learning, my 'second phase', my coming of age... perhaps more succinctly... my actual growing up. Ok, maybe not.

But I'm here, I'm ready to learn... anyways I'll see you at the tav, yeah?

Cool beans.

Fifteen in...

Hey there, sports fans! And all you fans of other things... It's just over two weeks into the new year, and it's about time I rambled and ranted in my usual non-linear fashion.

Here is my year so far in bullet point form, just to keep things fresh. As fresh as a blog can be, anyways.

in 2009 I have:

• Eaten a whole lot of chicken
• Not gone to the beach once, and I'm getting pretty pissed about that!
• Formed a new band with good friends, and rediscovered my penchant for writing rock riffs
• Continued to run 4 - 5 days a week
• Kissed a rather cute young lady
• Started to freak out about finances at uni... Handjobs for cash, anyone?
• Subsequently been offered a half chance at some casual smart car driving... hell yeah I would like to get paid to listen to my own tunes and drive around for a few hours!
• Sang TLC's Scrub in the shower no less than three times
• Not said 'literally' once, not even in the ironic sense
• Started yet another totally pointless blog

You could say things are looking up, but they're also looking scary. But that's a good thing, I've wasted away the last few years of my life, and it's about time I threw myself in the deep end, got some excitement in my life, and swam away from those in the shallow end (of the gene pool). I.e; the peons that cloud my brain on a daily basis at my place of work. I wrote some 'werdz' about these folk the other day:

'You're all walking into objects,
You spin with your sensors off while you paw at my sleeve
I can see this is how you spend your days,
Headless and hell bent on speaking with nothing to say

I ain't been around for too long
But I know what the rest of us see
We shall speak of a barrel toss
While we watch the apples rot"

It's not much, I know. Maybe it's the start of something, maybe not. But either way, I can taste freedom, and it tastes like tooheys new from a uni tav tap! Just over one month to go!

Anyways, I must apologise for this new entry and its lack of my usual vitriol, and the complete lack of any sort of purpose... but whatever, hey. I do what I want!

I'll leave y'all with a little piece of advice courtesy of my friend who shall be named Montana:

'Hey man, all I know is some people think pickled cucumber tastes better"

'...What?"

'Huh?"

Ahhhh, call of the century!

Take care all, 'til I see you next on the open seas.

Luke Gives Christmas the Royal Flush!

*My friends: Please take the time to read this gibberish the whole way through. I understand many of you have religious beliefs, which I respect. My points may start off as harsh - but there is a point to this rant and you will see I am not a heartless, ignorant, obnoxious or intolerant person. Luff yewww.*


Most of what follows has been taken from conversations with friends and work~mates~ on this day, Tuesday 2nd December 2008.

FUCK. CHRISTMAS.

To help you get purchase on where I am coming from, we need to travel back in time to the year 2007. This time last year, Fletch (my fearless and infuriatingly thick leader) handed out a bunch of santa hats to everyone on the team. The intention was that all members of the team would put their santa hats on whenever she rang this little bell. Now, those of you that have met me are well aware I'm not a fucking dog. I do not perform tricks. I am not a fucking child, I do not require senseless 'activities' to make me squeal and giggle. At this point in time, I informed Fletch as such (in a diplomatic and professional matter), and tried to convey to her that I do not care for christmas outside of my family gatherings and I find such 'team' 'activities' insulting. My points were seemingly met with a degree of confusion.

Fast forward to one year later, and the twit has the nerve to pull the same trick, and question why I wasn't wearing my hat. Yes, I raised my voice a little. This was less than 24 hours after informing the executive assistant I do not wish to participate in 'secret santa" and won't be attending the christmas party.

Now the reason for my lack of participation follows:

Whilst I personally do not believe in jesus and feel nowadays that christmas is really a consumer trap posing as a religious holiday (seriously think about this - when your work puts up decorations, they put up santa hats and stockings for little gifts as opposed to crucifixes), I used to respect the love and giving nature behind the holiday. I respected the fact that it at the crux (here all week, folks) of the thing it was a religious holiday and everybody deserves to celebrate their own faith, beliefs and values in peace.

HOWEVER! I have found that all meaning and sincerity behind this tradition has gone. The season should be about sharing your love with your family and friends, and helping those in need. It shouldn't be about the incessant fake wishing of happy holidays, appeasing sensitive co-workers or acquiescing to the ignorant assumptions of our mindless society that everybody loves christmas and everyone should be best friends with everyone else.

Here's something for you, my co-workers. I GET PAID TO BE HERE. I don't want to be here. I don't want to spend my hard earned cash on you, when I'm struggling to think of what I should get for my darling little sisters. I spend 40 hours of my life each week with you, and barely get to see all of my friends and family throughout the year. Why would I want to go to some function and watch you all get drunk and obnoxious (more than you are already)?

Christmassy bullshit is being pushed on me, and anybody who knows me will understand I do not like these sheep-like expectations being rammed down my throat.

Please, leave me the fuck alone to give love, presents and time to those that truly matter: My friends and family.

Maybe if everyone followed my lead perhaps we would all find this time of year a lot more relaxing, like it was supposed to be. Christians, Catholics, celebrate your faith. Non-denominational and vaguely god-believing fans of christmas, celebrate the relationships you have with the people that you care for.

Leave the fake ceremony and insincere gestures behind, and count me out.

Much love, and happy holidays to my loved ones. PEACE OUT!

Cast Off For the Shores of Oblivion Aboard the Spaceship Chocolate Cake

Today at 4.50pm whilst walking along Stirling Street next to a bunch of the '5-0" I consumed some 'cake". MMM-mmm!

It really hit me on my drive to IGA for dinner supplies... Shit got really rough inside IGA. On the way back I found it hard to stop talking and singing to myself (about things such as the 4wd in front of me), so I had to wind up the windows to stop everyone from listening to me.

I created the most awesome chicken salad in history and passed out on the couch by 9pm.

Anything to break the endless loop eh? Possibly one of the funniest weeknights ever!

Trouble at the Delta

Forgive me for being cynical and foul mouthed, but it has been a motherfucker of a year.

There have been times in my life when I have been what I could only described as a breezy, indifferent and self righteous cunt - particularly when it came to women. Now, hold on a minute. It wasn't on purpose, it wasn't a case of me trying to be decidedly malicious.

Looking back, I'm certain my behaviour was more a coping mechanism designed by my subconscious to prevent me from realising how lonesome i was and how directionless my life had become. People were hurt, including myself. After quite some time lost in a haze of one decadent weekend after the next, I pulled myself together and remembered what I really was. A nice guy.

I'm not just saying that. I'm not trying to pull sympathy votes and I'm not being ironic or self-deprecating. I'm a real life nice guy. I'm not one of those boring, straight laced nice guys who are afraid of all things daring, rough and left of center either.

So... WHAT. THE. FUCK!?!
Seriously, what the fuck.

This year I've been gifted with a couple of opportunities to give something a shot, actually open myself up. Not all good opportunities, mind - there are some real dropkicks out there. However I was pretty happy with myself for actually throwing myself out there. Only to be left hanging, and feeling pretty stupid.

I'm not sure what it is about people who have been let down by douchebags before, but they rarely seem to notice a genuine opportunity when they see it. Maybe because I'm not some athletic aryan model or some tall dark and handsome lad who has fooled a lot of girls into thinking he is edgy and deep (by saying very little at all). On the other hand, I've been led to believe I'm alright. I can hold a conversation, I'm genuinely interested in what others have to say and I'm relatively fucking intelligent, although lacking a tertiary education at this point of the game. So what the fuck.

What is my point you say? There is no point to this rant, Hotkeys O'Shaugnhessy. This is one of millions of insignificant and completely meaningless blogs on this here interweb. I'm just babbling about my year.

2008 is slowly drawing to a close. And with the final countdown to midnight on the 31st, will end the year I had hoped for many better things.

However, i guess you could say I achieved a lot in 2008, especially compared to the last 5 years. Car, uni application, fitness, fun fun possessions... it all means close to fuck all, though.

I really want to be part of something again.

Speaking Underwater

I have no love for myself,
and I'll never have love for anyone else
I will always be the seafarer
Wishing for eyes as complex as their bearer

With clean lungs we draw our breaths
With bruised hearts we count our steps
With torn hands you clutch your chest
Knowing only time knows you best

We're slowly dying

We're slowly dying

We're slowly dying

I can hear the seabirds crying out:

We're alone, all of us together
Slowly sinking while we sleep