Float On

My brain and body are both hit hard with fatigue right now,so it'll be a pretty pointless and random post for today.

-This guy in my Management lecture had the worst case of dandruff i had ever seen.Terminal,I tell you.I would have mistaken the many white dots as part of his blue sweater if not for the fact that he sat directly in front of me.People our age who can't even serve basic human functions that are most often already well-developed at this age (i.e:table manners,personal hygiene) should get their asses beaten up or classified as retards-curiously,this 20-ish Asian guy with chronic dandruff wore specs and showed tiny signs that he was no less a full-blown,pencil-sucking,textbook-adoring nerd.Funny how some of the brightest people can be total dumbasses with the simplest of tasks.

-The Film Soc showed a film that was so disturbing,outright gross and gory that I won't even mention it here for fear of invoking anyone's curiousity to watch it.The film was banned thrice in Australia,in different countries too-for depciting scenes that were overly graphic (think the most effectively vomit-inducing film you've watched.Take it up a notch or two,strip off any remaining redeeming qualities and you have something closely resembling this).Surprisingly it has a fairly fresh rating on RT,and in the US at one time when the film was facing the threat of being banned,a panel of filmakers including Martin Scorses himself was established to defend the film's artistic integrity and so on.Oh,Bullshit.Aside from the film's dangerous obsession with taboo,I thought the bigger crime was having no plot or point at all-the film's basically one gruesome event after another-an orgy of crudeness,until an ending comes to cut it short.An overwhelming feeling of relief set over me when the credits finally played at the end.There isn't a single attempt to humanize any of the characters,or restrain from limiting the graphic material (I usually detest limitations,as they often incidentally limit one's potential in the process-but in this case,limiting was absolutely crucial) and the end product was sheer rubbish.

-Lost eps are getting really good now.After the long hiatus,they gave us a few eps that were unexciting and lacklustre,until a bit later on when old routes were returned to,questions confronted,and the introduction of new characters/storylines justified.It all slowly starts to pile up now,making sense gradually and I'm really glad the writers stopped being too eager at contructing a smart game of cat-and-mouse with the viewers (that was fun for a while,until the questions became too much-the show reportedly lost millions of viewers this season) and started gratifying viewers with the answers they wanted.I hope this is the last season though,because I don't think i can bear another season of waiting and guessing-and i'm leaving the minute some producer shouts ''spin-off''.

-Went down to the city on Thursday morning and managed to secure the Jet ticks i so desperately needed.The concert will be at the end of May-was overjoyed from having surpassed the brutal experience of trying to get the tickets (I won't go into the tedious details-but here are some:there were neatly-dressed schoolgirls jumping over sofa's to get to the queue,there was shouting and shoving,plenty of glaring and scoffing-somehow I triumphed and managed to get first in line at precisely 9.06.a.m).I walked away feeling slighty guilty and evil (for I too had resorted to some unfair methods,showing no mercy even for the older competitors-after half an hour waiting for Myer's doors to open,I reminded myself I wasn't there to make friends),and left the others with a stare that said ''EAT THAT,ASSHOLES''.

-I have two assignments currently feeding on my brain matter right now,and I should be busily reading at this moment.But it's 1am and everyone knows nerdiness leads to incurable dandruff,so I'll make it an easy night tonight.

Modest Mouse-Float On
The Who-Teenage Wasteland
The Spinto Band-Late
Yes-Roundabout
Train-Get to Me
Sex Pistols-Mother Tell Your Children Not To Walk My Way
Radio Dept-I don't need love,I've got my band
Amy Winehouse-You Know I'm No Good

I think at 30 I'll be one of those adults with social retardation,listening to music at lunchtime and secretly dancing in the toilet booth.Until i find that rare co-worker with nice legs and an excellent taste in music to lessen the pain of daily work,and finally we run to Vegas,get married and name our daughter Bob Dylan.Then on her first birthday we kill her,and sell her liver and organs for money and work our lives through as professional conmen-running around states while changing names and appearances,finally deciding love's too mediocre a reason to live and start prostituting ourselves.Until one day the real Bob Dylan comes to enlighten us of our sins,then we get married officially and settle down where they have TiVo and an abundance of people with pointless lives-and finally we die laughing to the Hollywood movie adapted from our lives-how they've predictably ommited all the heartful parts in favour of more spicy ones,and how the newly-botoxed 70-year-old Lindsay Lohan and a toothless Jason Biggs make us look like complete idiots.So I might as well enjoy myself while I'm still considered sane,and taste the raindrops while I'm at it.

Yumm,tastes like chicken.