newcastle has really begun to change.

you know their is something sublimely transcendetal about the fact thet in almost a week this blog has only received 1 posted comment. all this regaurdless of the fact the i have offered significant cash prizes and even shown great leaps and practically redifined literature, anywya, enough about me, i was hanging out in the alley behind toughen-up the other day with two japanese guys i met drifting in wallsend. they were smoking cigaretes and i was shooting dice and trying to get perfect numbers. the harbour used to be a hideaay for dead bodies, and icould almost catch the smell coming up through the back of wickham as i rolled eleven after elleven and listened to these boys bitch about paint kobs and pannel work. i walked down hunter street and noticed a dark patch in front of a shopfront which stank like old meat. so kneeling to investigate i discoved a delicate pie of shit and on top like a crowning glory was the pair of calivin clines the loving patron had used to whipe his ass with before he weht on to the next joint. newcastle has really began to change.

hells bucket preveiw

music news

do yourslf a real favour. go to tripple j unearthed and listen to hells bucket. thos eguys rock. no review neede, its a treat. maybe we will feture them on the blogg? i would appreciate comments.

celebrity comments

call in or leave a message to win a prize. first three people to successfully argue that the guy from the mighty boosh looks like paul stanley (as judged by me) win a mystery prize (sounds exciting). just leave, mailing address and comment below.

news: suburban gang wars

it is difficult for some to grasp the concept of safety. safe work prectices. child safety. a safe bet. i got a friend who talks it up about safety. says he's the oh+s man. likes to criticise my home whether under revovation or daily use. says safety is everyones biz. gets mucho in the street when gang wars start or some guy gets too big for his balls and starts mouthing off. this gut is tough too. he aint just talk, but he does like to tell you about it in torturous detail. god love him.
tonite there was a gang war in my street. guess it's happening everywhere now days. seems all my friends are pulling their kids outa bed in the middle of the night in case the juice gets too thick and you cant strain it anymore. i was tough though folks. i thought of my friend, i thought - safety is everyones responsibility. so i just strated swinging. these japanese guys up the road were shocked. they were just talking cars with their rockabilly hairdo's and cigarettes. trying to work the kinks out of their buddy's skyline. so there am i yelling - come on fool (my kids behind me around my ancles), and they are just looking at each other. too cool i say. maybe too cool for a gang war. we all go back too sleep. damn roaches.

quiz for buffy fans

big ups for anyone who can write in and tell me what the hell 5x5 means.

news: bankers mostly are gay theory finally proved

the word up to date is that bankers, those smart looking gentlemen that enjoy loose change being tenderly shoved into their pants are actually gay. who would have thought it? more later.

interveiw with daif ling

BP: what was your motivation?
DL: just to contribute to timeless art. i dont want to work in a factory no more.
BP: what is your book called?
DL: jacob's mountain.
BP: what's it about?
DL: i want tell you what its about, but it's not about a mountain really, well there is a mountain but its not about a 'mountain' really. more a big guy, or a weightlifter or something. i mean. i think it abiout this big fuckin fairy guy who just kinda does stuff. no. its about aboy named jacob who dies when he is three or some shit. and.and. a boy who is into medicinal plqnt extraction with his grandma when hes a kid. is name is jacob. they live next to a doctor who's real conservative. and he don't like it too much. yeah.
BP: interresting, no, i liked it actually. all shit aside. i really liked it.
DL: body oil.
BP: what?
DL: body oil, you said i could talk about body oil.
BP: what?
DL: never mind.
BP: o.k, well, .., what do you do to be tough?
DL: the usual stuff. i got a family that shit is tough. i fart, you know? drink beer, fight and stuff.
BP: do you lift weights.
DL: sometimes. sometimes i do push ups. use it or loose it i say.
BP: well that's all we have time for by daif.
DL: solong.

working out

being tough isn't too hard to maintain. i work out with wieghts. lots of reps. sometimes with household objects. eg the dictionary. use it or loose it i say.

nice sleeves man

so i was at my local shopping centre with my two daughters, and i was having a particularly difficult time trying to wrangle with them and get all my erands done. my last task was to post a few letters including two packages. the door to the post shop was not a the conveniently automated sliding door i have come to expect from the modern shopping centre, but rather and awkward, double glazed, single door. ive got the two kids in a supermarket trolley. i push the door open and squeeze through trying not to wack the trolley into the door, which just about takes the last of my energy (sad given its 10:30 in the morning). by this time the kids are no longer happy to stay in the trolley and after a minor battle (i which i was as usual the loser) they were freed to the fanastic world that is the post shop floor. they are 2 and 4. the four year old was o.k, she just floped down in front of a rack of abc books, mesmerised. the 2 year old, however, is 2. say no more. so i am trying to adress this stuff and stop her from total destruction, and i do o.k if i don't say so myself. i get to the counter and the postage comes to a total of 7 dollars and something, unfortunately under the ten dollar limit. the guy at the counter casually tells me their is an atm a few shops down. i look at him, at the kids, at the trolley, at the door, at the kids again, and i think - yeah right easy for you to say (hope that isnt under copywrite thag!). the guy is just looking at me and smiling. o.k i say slowly. he is still smiling. deep breath. grab kids and put the in the trolley. squeeze back out through the door (as i do a girl pushes past me into the shop and smiles - n.b. what's with all the smiling?) race down to the atm, get the money, and race back. done. evryone happy. or as close as you get. so as i am heading to my car i see this old guy (around 70) with full sleeve tattoos. and he is miling too. he stops me and says - what's the most expensive thing in your trolley?. i look. kids panadol, dymatap, nurofen, two sorts of cough drops, face cream (for my partner i assure you), telephone, backpack full of kids clothes and snacks etc, plum sauce, choy sum. choy sum i say, trying to be funny. i meant the kids idiot says the guy. idiot i think, maybe i am. what comeback can i think of. nice sleeve i say as he walks away. he doesn'T hear me. lucky he didnt. he would probably have smacked me out in the carpark. my kids would be scarred for life. 10:45 another exerpt from the shag pile.