WHERE IN THE WORLD IS SPOZ's BRAIN?hi.. how are you? no really.. I'm asking ya.. seems like this whole blog is just about me huh..? so.. wot's going on in your tiny insignificant lives? oh.. that still hasn't cleared up? should've used the ointment huh.. wait.. you did WHAT? it got stuck in WHERE!? is that even anatomically possible? and they were underage? all 6 of them!? and.. WHAT? their family dog as well? and they were high on extacy? and one of them OD'd? and your in trouble with the Indonesian police? oh maaan.. that's bad.. and now you want me to bail you out? don't want your electorate to find out about it? yeah.. good luck with that.. lose my number.. seriously.. dont ever use ME as your "one call" again.. y'hear?
yeah.. fuck that.. you guys lead altogether messy lives.. so lets talk about my life.. or at least the carefully selected public facade I choose to splatter over this ere blog..
so.. another weekend has coughed up dust bunnies and I'm here to pick up the pieces.. sift thru the dust.. read the tea leaves.. consult the oracles of Delphi.. and conduct the autopsy of that which was.. that which is only foggingly remembered.. and thank fuck I have this digital camera taking all these photo's.. otherwise I'd never have an alibi..
and now for this weekend's photo selection.. brought to you by the chicks of Adelaide rock.. you crazy cats can blow me eardrums out aaanytime.. :)
hey.. you know wot's really fun? when you spend at least an hour writing a lengthy weekend blog entry, you're 95% done.. and then Internet Explorer mysteriously crashes eating the entire thing save for a little bit at the top that blogspot saved.. yay Internet Explorer.. you rock my world.. my letter bomb should be arriving at your Microsoft HQ shortly.. DIE FUCKERS DIEEE!!!.. so.. as a result of this accursed crashing.. I shall now present the blow by blow account of this weekend in abbreviated form..
THURSDAY NIGHTSPOZ solo gig at Enigma (aka: "da niggaz") insert colourful ridiculous description here of how cool my music sounds (not).. blah blah blah.. make joke about my equipment fucking up.. and yet this time it wasn't my equipment it was me (oh the comical irony).. then make joke that it doesn't matter anywaze coz no'one turns up.. except.. oops.. they did.. blah blah blah.. make mention the gig wuz all good anywaze (no really.. it wuz pretty good) mention many thanks to Ernie, his midget friend Shane, Kaliah and her crazy friends for turning up.. blah blah blah.. proceed to plug me playing gig next Thursday.. threaten people with cruel and unusual punishment if they don't show up.. blah blah blah.. and yada..
FRIDAY NIGHTmake some bitching spiel about how good the Austral (aka: the nostril) used to be.. before - (a) the big screen projection tv showing the football (b) all the dickhead yuppies (c) the whole lets-convert-the-place-into-an-overhyped-restaurant.. proceed to get all nostalgic at how cool the Austral beergarden used to be.. then proceed to blame housing developments sprouting up next door like fungus.. make joking reference to the lame DJ's and bongo players who now play the concrete reinforced / sound proof'd yuppie hellhole backroom restaurant where the beer garden used to be.. and thus.. all the bands are now stuck playing the front room.. mention in glowing terms how watching bands in the front room with the PA turned down below the sound of a roaring crowd screaming at their footy teams on tv and with the lights turned down low to "blackout" levels.. is the BEST way to experience live music.. blah blah blah.. mention I'll expect comments from Chelsea calling me a whiny bitch for this.. blah blah blah.. and yada..
about here I mention in glowing (yet vaguely mocking) terms the bands playing on the night.. Cookie Baker (aka: Holly.. aka Cookie Monster.. a name she didn't particularly appreciate me calling her on the night) and Munchkin (aka: um.. shit.. I'll get back to you on that one).. I'll try and compare Cookie Baker to a crazy haired version of Missy Higgins without the radio overkill.. and then describe Munchkin as being "those bouncy bouncy pop stick triphop funk out freaks".. mention I'll likely expect some hate mail from both bands for making fun of 'em.. make reference to how cool it is that there were so many chick acts on this weekend.. say something really inspired and progressive about what this means for the music industry and then ruin it all by making some kinda completely out've character sexist joke that falls completely flat (and I'll likely also get comments about.. if they haven't already about the eardrum thing above).. blah blah blah.. mention in vaguely glowing terms the Munchkin set.. and how those wacky new funk tracks actually worked this time (despite the PA being really bad).. and before Dale bitches to me about dissing the sound in the comments section.. blame it all on the Austral..
proceed to rush summarise the rest of the night in one sentence.. and yet, here in abbreviated form waste more than one sentence doing the same thing.. blah blah blah Zhivago's (mostly empty) and blah blah blah "cant-remember-the-name-of" Pancake place on corner of Hindley and King William.. end by bitching about me missing the last late night bus.. having to take a taxi instead.. bitch about that ONE coopers sparkling ale I had amongst the pale ales giving me one helluva headache the next day.. blah blah blah.. "it's all good" anywaze schtick..
SATURDAY NIGHTbegin by making fun of how heavily over publicized this Enigma gig was.. wot with (a) the emails (b) the nutty little flyers handed out by the blue haired chick from Kim Roberts Band at the Austral the night before (c) the 2 SMS's I got from Sweeper.. inflate my own ego by claiming I'm a z-grade celebrity that they need at these gigs to attract the r-list celebrities and maybe entice some drunken a-listers who accidently get me mixed up with that guy from Neighbours (yes.. I've heard all the jokes) then make some flat joke that I took revenge by getting me name on the door and drinking 1/2 of their beer rider.. mention I'm only kidding, I just turn up for the music.. but expect some comment from one of the Sweeper guys anywaze..
about here.. I mention the bands.. make a joke about the first band - "Assassination of Martha" (aka: who is this martha chick and why would I want her dead anywaze?).. mention the lead singer was coached by Guy Sebastian (no kidding) joke they sound like some kinda all-girl howling emo-screamo-punk rock type thing.. and yet.. in a 1/2 praise / 12 mocking tone.. mention theyll likely end up with a record contract within 6 months.. (but no really.. you guys rocked :) .. then fail to mention anything about Sweeper (aka: also not known as "Seether"..) make fun of W Shane Forster (coz he's an easy target).. string another bunch of improbable bunch of words together to describe their sound.. which likely will feature on their next poster.. such as "like your brain being smashed into a bloody pulp by a gold brick wrapped in lemon".. mention I'll be expecting hatemail from the Douglas "Hitch-Hikers" Adams estate for stealing his material posthumously to describe bands.. at this point.. I tack on a passing reference to the Kim Roberts Band (aka: laziest band name since "The Luke Ashby Band".. aka: midget grrrl rock..) make obscure references to their funky footwear.. without sounding too odd.. attempt but fail miserably to describe their sound but mention I liked it anywaze.. then praise 'em all for giving me an excuse to get drunk.. blah blah blah..
make reference to lost time out've me head at SHOTS (again) here.. make a few other jokes that fall flat blaming UFO's for my lost time.. make a final joke about "all the hatemail" and.. THE END..
hmm.. did anyone else notice my abbreviated weekend post actually managed to write longer than a NORMAL post? arrr fuck.. oh well.. hopefully it all made sense.. otherwise.. if you have any questions (or hate mail).. or wot'ever.. leave me a comment.. :)
phew.. that's all for now..
back next weekend for more liver destroying mayhem.. yeeeeHAR!
Previously on Spoz's Rant:
This Wasted Life