I had to get an ironing board this morning. I went to an underground supermarket. Many ironing boards are peculiar here in that they have very short legs. You sit on the floor and do yr ironing. I have been doing that for some time now and am fed up with it.

I keep getting this image of an insane girl kneeling on the floor, with blood all around her mouth, and I think maybe she is doing the ironing. I think it might’ve been from a movie and quite a bit different from how I remember it… nevertheless.

On the other hand the standard western sized board is overkill — I don’t have that much personal space to be devoting to ironing. There is a happy medium – a man can stand up but the board is only a metre or something. I was so happy to find one of these because I had been looking here and there and in the cyber-reality even.

At the exact same moment that I picked it up some music by the tarantulas came on over the inhouse PA system.

It was as if Surf’s Up right there and then.

I got my camera out and got one of the sample chix to take the fotos of me jumping with the board, like I was about to launch into the water.
I did ‘The Swim’, The Twist, The Pony, The Bird, The Mashed Potato, The Watusi, The Ska, The Monkey, The Tighten Up and a bit of Pogo-ing for good measure.

Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier my camera is on the fritz, in the process of buying the farm, giving up the ghost, going down with the ship, on its deathbed, in its death throes, bowing out, exit stage left. So this is all I got.





Prints 48x30cm, matt or glossy $60 plus freight. Email teambreaks.



I was having a play around with world wind the other day. It’s made by nasa. It’s a little bit like google earth. Different strengths and weaknesses though. This one has a weather thingo that’s quite good. Also, pictures of a few of the other planets in the system. It’s only for Windows.

* * *

I just busted a gut larfing at these.

I’m on my way to the citeh



First, not actual music. For christmas, some time ago now, I got the set of Dylan Thomas CDs that I mentioned here. I still haven’t listened to it yet because I feel like I need to be concentrating for it and these days I’m lucky of I can string 30 seconds of concentration together.

* * *
In fact the fact that the above part of this entry was written several days ago is testament.

I am just been moved into the city. Well, two days ago but the chaos has been such that I would not have been able to say whether or not I was actually here.

I am here aboard spaceship earth. The full effect of that hasn’t become apparent yet because I don’t start working for another week.
The shower is ace. High pressure, doesn’t run out of hot. That’s what I’ve been without this past two years. And the prospect is south by south east facing so it’s like BANG! spring is here – sunny and warm — big windows and it’s taken two days or so to get the temp back to about 20degs. It was set at 30 when I got in – and then sometime in the last day there were several people passing through and one of them must’ve seen that I had the gauge at 20, thought it was a mistake and put it back to 25. I didn’t notice until this morning.


I will get around to writing about whatever music I have been listening to but just not now save to say that the happy mondays and then shaun ryder consistently have great record covers. Amateur night in the big top is pretty catchy, produced in Perth, AUS and a few years old by now.

Pig Dealers


Note the juxtaposition of meanings regarding the pigs. In this moment they appear to us almost comic; the angles of the faces of the two backward-facing pigs could be said to have a kind of a peek-a-boo quality. And yet we also know that it is more than likely that these pigs are destined to be sold and slaughtered.

Note that the composition makes passing reference to the cautionary fairy tale, The Three Little Pigs, but that it also seems to be saying, “fuck planning for the future”, because whichever of those three pigs built its house out of bricks is irrelevant because all three will die and be eaten anyway.

Note the enigmatic facial expression of the pig dealer, the shyness of his looking away from camera, and yet he unconsciously embraces the shot with the hands-on-hips pose and the subtly effeminate positioning of his fingers.

The picture tells us stories of both ends of the spectrum with regard to Vietnam’s place in the world. There is the topsy-turvy nature of life, where they driving Pig Dealer rides with no helmet while the pillion Pig Dealer does have a helmet. The hay cushioning used in the left pig’s splint, the flip-flops and the rain-stopper that the Dealer wears remind us of the earthy, day to day existence of the Pig dealer but the helmet gives us a glimmer of the future. The man’s lack of hair and short stature point to his highly-evolved nature. He is reaching out into space. An interplanetary trader of swine. The Future is now!

wind up toys

As you might’ve deduced from the design change, I’ve had some hard-to-come-by chunks of time to screw around and not do much in particular. If there’s any CSS gurus out there that know how I can get rid of the horizontal scroll bar at the bottom, email me.

Yesterday I listened to a shortish audio book written and read by David Lynch. It’s about meditation, the creative process and a little on how his movies came together. Quite inspiring. If you’re bitorrenty, then check out it. [schnaffled from skynoise].

Instead of spending the last week sprawled on the heated concrete, with knees aching for not obvious reason, I would’ve much preferred to have continued travelling with M– and seen Angkor wat.


“I’ll have to send you a love letter! Straight from my heart, fucker!

You know what a love letter is? It’s a bullet from a fucking gun, fucker! You receive a love letter from me, and you’re fucked forever! You understand, fuck? I’ll send you straight to hell, fucker!… In dreams… I walk with you. In dreams… I talk to you. In dreams, you’re mine… all the time. Forever” *

* * *

“… Yes, boredom is an underrated facet of existence in our pseudo-civilization. While at first I thought if might be interesting, in a boring sense, for people to be together when they were extremely bored, I realize now that it is a profoundly moving and deeply average experience to do nothing whatsoever entirely and completely by yourself.”

Iain M. Banks, The State of the Art
* * *

Here is my favourite song at the moment, <strike>Hard For You</strike> *(now removed for space 7/4/11)*, by Beasts of Bourbon. Revenge is not a sin. They seem to do vindictiveness particularly well, mostly against women, and for some reason I really hook into it. And it’s not as if I’m actually feeling bitter toward anyone I know either.
Is it possible that all my various relationships with women are coloured, if not completely shaped by whatever reality I project onto them? If this is true, then I am singing Hard For You at some part of me inside of me. Golly that’s confusing.


If you’ve got time, have a go at SuperDiva’s Psych-E.org short writing comp; a love letter, fucker.


I would like to take a moment to tell you about the items of apparel that are now Missing In Action somewhere inside Vietnam.
First: a green face scrubber last seen somewhere in the North.
Two pairs of sox. One of them was a pair given to me by a dear friend, but don’t get me wrong, every pair of sox is priceless.
One Red & Blue zip-up top, purchased only weeks before. Why is it always the young to go first? Lost in a tragic mix up involving a civilian bus in the mountains. Our group was sleep-deprived, disorientated. I turned around for a minute and it was gone.
There was also one other piece of clothing, which for the life of me I cannot remember what it was, that disappeared. This shall be known as The Unknown Item.

While these incidents are very much in the public eye at present, let’s not forget the apparel that made it out intact but were nevertheless traumatised. All my underwear is undergoing counselling and the shoes still wake up at night, screaming.

PS. if anyone actually wants to go to Dangerfield in Melb (cnr Flinders, Swanston) and get me another red & blue top – they are, like, fifty bucks, large-sizey, with an “r” on the left breast, located up the back of the store. I’ll pay ya back.


Ever since before Marco Polo people had been doing this so I never saw myself as nothing special but and yet it still amazes me that in this era when the global village phrase was invented there’s still a lot of things not moving around. I just wanted to bring relief through vapour to people.
Protectionism of course, that’s why. Tariffs and to another thing, quarantine.

I was making re-entry with a 20kg suitcase of Vicks eucalyptus vap-o-rub in jar form. I saw no need to declare it but they stopped me anyway. Looking a bit dismayed, the customs dude, standing by the open shell held up to my face one of the 80 or jars.
What this? Jam?
With the right amount of aplomb I took it from him and cracked it open. I fingered a dollop out and wiped it under my nose. I made exaggerated actions of inhaling deep and easy; invigorated! enlivened!

Deposited a gobbet on his face ∙ perhaps a little shocked at the contact but smiled at the sensation it quickly gave. He made that underhanded waving motion to a couple of cohorts who came over with their military-style stiff and high-actioned hats atop their skulls. Attention switched to the jar as it passed around. I let em keep it and was on my way. The freebie was worth it; they’d soon be wanting more.

holiday vietnam


You know, to look at the two countries , S.korea and Vietnam on a map, yes you would say Vietnam defintiely looks bigger, but not by that much. Vietnam has 80mil people and SK has 50. But for some reason things feel much more crowded in Korea. We bus-rode through numerous areas of Vietnam that really were wide open spaces.

Things kicked off in Hanoi, see above, where they really know how to put cement and paint to good use. The city looked great. Initially the traffic, overwhelmingly light motorcycles, was panic-inducing but as the 2 weeks progressed I could see how (other than a space-age mass-transit system) motorbikes were the most logical solution. Folks beep the horns in the way fish use sonar (not angry honking like westerners) but even then, if everybodies doing it, it can create quite a din that I imagine would take several months to desensitise to.

Pretty much everyone was on the make in Hanoi. Anyone who could charge me more, would. Luckily I had my friend M– there, who is much wiser to the grifting and more adept at haggling.
It’s a really attractive city with almost no high-rises or sky scrapers.


I didn’t know anyone was still doing the hammer and sickle. We said and thought several times that it’s a good thing that Vietnam won the last war and not the US (and allies). We didn’t see one McDonalds the whole fortnight. (Saw one KFC (in HCMCity and two Loterias). There’s no dick-sucking of coporate capitalism of the kind that’s rampant in S.Korea. Sure, it’s not communism in the way Lennin and Trotsky envisioned it, but they’re doing their own thing; people looked healthy, happy not wanting — for the most part.


Once we got out of the city — a 12-16hour scrappy busride down the coast — I found that the people in Hanoi were actually a bit stand-offish compared to country folks. We took the ‘tourist busses’ which are supposed to be the more cushy option, but they were still a huge pain in the arse and easily the most challenging thing during the trip. Next time I’d take the train 1st class.

Hoi an is know for its tailors, and above is me with Mr.Xe (pronounced ‘sheh’). M– “I only need two pairs of pants to be happy” E. sez she thinks she heard he was gay, but just because he asked me to strip down to jocks to take measurements… and then stuck his hands in my pockets when the suit was done, doesn’t mean he’s homosexual I think. Suit not pictured.
I went for it bigtime. Pictures will appear as new clothing comes to hand, and in contrast to my travelling companion, I like the postmodernist notion of slipping on different masks, becoming different people from time to time. I got a white safari suit.


I think we both agreed that Hoi an was the nicest place we stopped at during the two weeks. Wikipedia says the pop. is 25 000 but the LP books says 76, so there must be another 50 or so in the surrounding area. Either way – it was a good size. Bicycles are cheap to rent and make for a super way to get around. There’s an excellent beach about 4kms out of town which no body goes to. Shop owners are honest and friendly. Accommodation is cheap and plentiful.


Here, M– is eating a local delicacy called ‘whie rose’ (kind of like korean mandoo, or dim sum) and also we’re getting stuck into the fantastic vietnamese style coffee and yummy carbonated mineral water. Thanks to French colonialism, folks in Vietnam really know how to grow and brew a good coffee.


I am having the lunch of champions; pho bo! Pho Bo! Pho Bo! — rice noodles, a little beef and green leafy vegetable in clear broth.

Kids in Da Lat, like everywhere else in the world, are cute.

On the back of our motorbike, whacked out on caffeine, we held up a bandanna store using only wild-eyed looks and bad use of tonal lang. Made off with an armful of neckerchiefs and about 4$US; good for 10 or 12 more coffees.

More excruciating detail at flickr

*Also see Vietnam Holiday: the second time*