The only good thing about the new batch of year 7s is that the numbers are down – from 46-48 last year to 36-37 this year. The only drawback, and I’m talking about a speck of sand, is that there’s fewer statistical outliers on the freakage metre.

There’s one kid with hella teeth. When she smiles I can see there’s this auxillary pair of canine in the upper, set slightly inside the normal row. Nice kid, but she knows I’m lookin’ at those teeth when she grins. There’s a pair of duplicates. I just figured it out yesterday. Part of my  (mostly ineffective) noise control measures was seating them at the tables according to the 4-digit student number that is alotted them based on name, alphabetically. I have this “troublesome”, as they say, student sitting in a particular spot near the front in class 1-x. Then a day later while with class 1-y I notice the same damned girls sitting there and twigged that they were twins. Their parents must be real pleased to have a pain-in-the-arse pair like that.

There’s this one girl who is in all other ways normal, but that she has large ears. They are not the more common taxi-door shape, just bigger. Like the those TDK ads (australia). Still quite symmetrical but like the right proportion to fit a mid-sized watermelon, but placed on a coconut. I have to say that it’s wholly not an unattractive look either. Kind of distinctive among a sea of alike. The kind of thing that’d help in a job interview when the panel didn’t really give a toss or know who to hire because the credentials were all the same — “well who then?” “What about that girl with the ears?” “Whatever.”

40 10

When the admin guy at work says to me, “parcel”, my eyes light up. Because it means I have a parcel.

Right back when I was doing poetry I’d swap dub tapes with a very Sonic Youthy-vibed kind of guy – he had lots of vaguely obscure indie-ish stuff – like ricaine and June of ’44 – american groups that always had to get their stuff pressed in Canada. Most of it didn’t take, but there was this one album by a Melbourne band called Sandro. The most melancholy shiznit joo evar heard.

They are broken up now, and their stuff is pretty hard to get but I snagged this one that I used to like. All those dubbed tapes with no details but plenty of memories are loaded into a cheap suitcase a long way away.

I love hate songs

I got it off ebay. It’s the first time I’d done bidness with that organisation, and it wasn’t really even an auction, it was just a 2nd hand dealer (in the US) who had it, for a reasonable price too. The case was pretty badly smashed when it got here – but the CD intact. That’s the first time that’s happened. Easy enough to put in another jewel case. I do bidness with the amazons a bit now too, and have to say I’ve never had any trouble with them. I was so impressed I bought the company. And so on.

Here is the 2nd track hawaiian pole dancer (it’s gone now, he’s a monster now[8/10/06]).

I sincerely apologise

for not writing here more often lately. I guess I’ve been sick – spending a lot of time hacking up phlegm. Also I guess I am my own worst critic and I feel like I should be able to do better than just writing general howdy-do and how are ya going? posts one after another.

I watched Annie Hall again last night. I never realised before that it has Marshall McLuhan in it.

I am reading this book that wrote the name of here before – We: Understanding the psychology of romantic love. And I’m kind of surprised because it is really good. Written in 1945 (scratch that it was 1983) and dealing with a pretty heavy/obscure topic (western man’s loss of contact with the feminine side within) – it’s actually pretty easy to read. The myth that it illustrates with, Tristan & Iseult is good too — it’s odd that I hadn’t heard of it before. I can see how I’m making a lot of mistakes, and yet how I will continue onward and make them anyway.

i thought it was supposed to be a peace sign

Give Peace stapler a chance

Y’know my mum gave up reading this thing. She emailed and said the writing lacked integrity. Nevertheless, here is a list of things I want for my birthday, even if it is a way off, a way off in this instance, constituting June.

Perishables. Lord how I miss perishables. Masterfoods hot english mustard. Whole grain mustard. Cream – fuck I miss cream; it’s about 10$AUD a litre here. I realise it might be difficult getting cream through customs. Fetta cheese – I may be able to track this down somewhere in seoul. Sohhh-UuLL. Carbonated mineral water. Fisherman’s Friends. I dunno there’s a whole bunch of other stuff I can’t remember now.

dare to dream

For well over a year now I’ve toyed with the idea of making radical changes in the format of this ‘web-a-log’. This is something that many a blogger has contemplated and yet just as many have turned, wavered and ultimately withered and died on the web.

Sure, we’ve had some fun. But now it is time to stand and meet the new dawn. As of now, SunnyBreaks sets out to become the No.1 Vladimir Putin fansite on the internet, in the whole world. Now, you there, to this, say with me, “Da!”.

my horse has a cold

my horse has a cold

I have a cold.  I have started studying, or that is, did start studying again at the start of this month and now it’s caught up with me. I am doing linguistics, applied; via the university of southron quinnslend. I’m not sure why – apart from it will get me ore money.  Maybe it’ll get interesting.

I am going to start dancing tonight. Learning ‘latin’ which includes rhumba, cha cha, and jive, which I’m sure is not latin in origin. We’ll see how it goes, I think the rates may be a bit steep to continue for any truly sustained period.

I have also become someone’s guru. Plus I am still courting the young lady.

So all this makes for one rather busy chappy. Especially given that I’m generally unmotivated to do most things in life.

I would *like* to be one of those super-productive people who utilises every spare moment — but I don’t know how they don’t snap and go and kill a bunch of people. Thankyou and good day.

I try not to do venting on here but the laboratory experiment is presently challenging. I have no sanctuary. My existence is being worn away by the forces of nature, in the form of youth/energy/noise. I’m not exaggerating to say that I sustained some small amount of hearing damage this week. You put 48 16 (14) y.o. girls in a confined space with a certain set of acoustics and it can kill you.

I yell at them and they don’t understand what I say. I have this white board that has a electronic plug-hole in it, and nobody knows how to use it. It has no writing on it whatsoever for me to google. For all I know, it came from outer space.

My stress levels have gone up the yinyang. There’s still money in the budget and they’re asking me what we should get and all I can think of is 50 ball gags, the use of which would unfortunately make the teaching of conversational English fairly redundant. It’d be an interesting experiment though.


It seems that a man can’t buy a regular old soundtrack, like the one to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly without having the VCDs of the movie thrown into the little cardboard box too.

I got it because I realised that I am a gunslinger, and that I need some mood music for to play on the iPod when I’m striding down the street. Occasionally I see another of my ilk. Sometimes we lock eyes but don’t draw, sometimes give a nod, or as with the other night in the supermarket, say hi. We are wolves among sheep.

I watched the movie again. Anyone who doesn’t barrack for Tuco must be a real arsehole. I don’t see what’s so good about Eastwood’s character. So – he gives a smoke to an almost dead soldier, so what?

I think there is a little Tuco in us all. I love Tuco. I want to get a t-shirt made with that graphic on. It’s a bit crappy because none of the dumb media players will allow screen-caps of the vision. I had to take a foto of the computer.

Vicki Bennett is also a big Tuco fan. Practically every non-word vocalisation Tuco makes in the movie has been threaded into People Like Us tracks. “Woh!”


her scarf

Standing in front of a small wall of tanks full of tropical fish for sale. Narrow silver and red ones. Ones that were blue and acqua shaped in a way that reminded me of clipper-ship sails. Orange and normal. Large and sedantry. Plastic pebbles, bubbles, deep blue plastic backgrounds and Davy Jones’ locker sunk to the bottom of the ocean–tank–every tank.
I was standing in the middle of a sparse forest of displayed pine furniture, looking back at the Pets Dept. A woman, the shp asst. stood on a step ladder and leaned over one of the tanks. With a fishnet she swished through the water, in pursuit of something but what, I could not tell. She brought the net up empty. Its plastic mesh releasing the odd drop of water back into the aquaraium, drip, drip, drip. The woman straghtened slightly, paused and stared into the water.

Then came several jabs with the net. The water rocked about in its rectangular, glass casing. Again, I could tell that the end result was not the one that was hoped for. Another pause. The woman dropped the net and plunged both of her primly sleeved arms into the tank, raking through the sand and pebbles with spread fingers in an energetic way. She slapped the surface of the water and it splashed onto the floor.

explosion imminent

I got this spam-mail, which in itself is not perculiar, but this one struck me as a tad funny because of the continual use of the phrase, “get laid”.

We promiss to get you laid   Inbox
Patsy Hollingsworth
to me
More options 4 Mar (4 days ago)

We offer a service that helps people get laid!
So many guys and girls are driving distance from you, wanting to get laid!

No lame pickup lines… no gifts… no walks on the beach…
people here only think about sex 😉

Just so you know, a little over 65% of members already got laid!”


PS. I  finally got an internet connection in my laboratory.

I have discovered the conveinence of BitTorrent. For those who don’t understand, it’s a peer-to-peer thing where you schnaffle a file off someone and then while your grabbing it, someone else grabs it off you, sort of like turtles hitching rides on eachother. I think that’s what happens. I shall now never want for the odd tv show I care to re-view.

So to you nazis at Paramount or whatever studio that would not release the second season of Twin Peaks on DVD, bite me. I would’ve bought it.

forward back

I was mentioning that song Jean Genie to my friend and she sez she’d never heard of it. David Bowie, I said. Boo-ee?  Bow-eee. Never heard of him, she says. Ziggy Stardust? No. The Zig? No. The thin white duke? No. Oh c’mon, you know; that guy who sold the world? No. Davy Jones and–No. Aladdin Sane? Yes — wait, No. Major Tom? No. The dude with tights on in Labrynith? No.

I got on the dippy file sharing network, for my own pleasement more than anything, but it only has the FM gold (gold, baby, gold) of course, of which Jean Genie is part of, but all tracks on those albums are great. It’s kind of stuck between most songs on those (early) albums being good but I cringe a little at the thought of spending 20, 000 on one — because you can’t get just one – there’s about four that fall in to that early classic period — but a compilation doesn’t do the situation justice either. Plus I used to have an old dubbed tape from when I was 15y.o that had all the good ones on – “I’ll give you back my farmland, I’ll give you back my house, I’ll give you back my right to be free .. etc”  And I had Hunky Dory on record, which the tyranny of dislocation is keeping me from.

But it got me thinking that I’ve been singing ‘5 Years’ for 15 years now, and we’re still going strong – so that’s something to be hopeful for. Plus it was done a while before then.

Also the MacDonalds in town went bust. The only other place I know that happened was in Newton, sydney. Those places are usually a license to print money. Score one to the purchasing power of the people.

The paddock across the road from my window must’ve been sold because there’s development happening on it. And while there’s been moments of fun watching the tracked, earth-scoop machine — with it’s jerky, robot but kind of human limb movements — it makes me wish I had a hundered foot robot which I would command to go over there and SMASH MEN CRUSH MACHINES! I prefer the quiet summer dawn peasants working the earth with their bare hands – to whatever the heck it is they’re going to build there. Their trucks are cracking the footpath.
This morning I stood by the window in jocks and passive-aggressively chomped a piece of peanut butter toast while staring down a dirty little man who weilded a “broom”  — could not believe, not sure if he should look – a foriegner in that apartment. This country is so ill equipped, they have bulk of one thing, like bright green bristled, traditional (i.e. crappy) brooms, but no shovels. They put long strecthes of carpet underlay over the footpath, as if this would somehow stop the cracking and spread of mud.

My co-worker who I travelled to adelaide with last month (here in bottom pic.) suffered the death of her dog while she was away – her brother and his family was looking after it and it got run over. A real shame because she loved that dog. I met it a couple of times, nice dog – for a small dog. This came after her other dog, which her parents were looking after, also got run over about six months ago.

Anyhoo, I was rather surprised today to hear said co-worker tell me that she’d got a new dog – okay well not surprised about that part, but that it was a robot dog – artificial intelligence, she says. A Sony, she says. I didn’t say anything but the first thing I thought was that if this one got run over – it could probably be repaired. Just odd because I didn’t think she was the type that’d go for a electronic doggy pal. Maybe the real plus is that you don’t have to entrust it to relatives when you go away.