March 2006 Archives

So the *real* reason I posted the last spider post, well, lets just say I had a bad spider issue last night, and needed to get something off my chest.

It was 3am, and I'd just finished off working on a Uni assignment... so I crawl into bed, do my bible reading, and switch off the light. Darkness. 3am. Something wakes me up... It sounds like a rustling noise. I thought maybe I heard a mouse, so I switched on the light and looked around the room. Nothing. Silence. Mice are like that.

Light goes off... more ruslting. I turn the light back on. Silence. Nothing. Now I have to say, if a mouse makes it into my room, then good luck to them... I'm not going to worry about a mouse overnight... its not like it is going to jump up and eat out the side of my face just to make a nest for its young... no... "a mouse I can live with" I say... and reach for the lightswitch.

Just as I'm about to turn off the light, a massive funnel-web spider drops off my uni textbooks, and onto the floor... where it most unco-ordinatedly runs away from the books, and runs around behind my basket of clothes. Behind that basket is a huge pile of stuff. Like, stuff just grows there. Being ABSOLUTELY PARANOID of spiders I sit on the edge of my bed... frozen. Swearing under my breath. Its 3am. Can't call anyone for help incase it moves somewhere else... I would never find it again. At least I know which half of the room it is. Just. Really it could be anywhere. I'm the skinny white guy standing on the edge of his bed in his undies, so I'm not too well equipt to deal with the most deadly spider in the country.

I grab some jeans, good sturdy dark blue thick jeans. shake them... nothing... one leg goes in... as the second leg goes in... NOTHING. Grab thick socks. Tuck jeans INTO my socks. Put on running shoes with appropriate flat sole for spider slamming. Grab the walking stick that someone gave me for my birthday (Thank goodness Sharna and Kris have s sense of humour) I have a walking stick... and I'm not afraid to use it. I'm just afraid the spider is going to run up the stick and bite my hand. In the top pic you can see me bashing the teddy bear with the walking stick. Everything in my room got this treatment. Also, can you see my jeans tucked into the socks?? Huh??

By now, its 3:10am, and I start moving things around the room one by one with the walking stick. I know that the spider is angry... (you can tell because they run when they are mad.) I also know that its Male. Ive seen enough of these spiders to know that they get rather agressive. Move the basket of clothes... nothing... move the items of clothing one by one... nothing... move the uni books... nothing... move the John Bevere book... Bang. Spider. Angry... Its raised up so I can see the redness underneath its fangs.

First thing I do? Grab the mobile phone to take a pic of it for proof... *BUT* the camera file folder is full of other photos... So I stand there deleting old photos just to take a pic of this spider for you. (dedication huh?) The spider makes a run for it... straight behind all my drum stuff.

To cut a long story short. 45 minutes it took me to clear the floor, scare the spider out of hiding, where when he made another run for it, I smashed him with the 'trivial pursuit' box. Who says nerd games don't pay? That game was worth its weight in this morning.

If you look closly at the pics I took after the trivial pursuit ending, you can see bits of the spiders leg strewn across the floor. That was courtesy of Good Ol' Uncle walking stick.

Funnel web : Death by 2 throws with trivial pursuit box, and about 50 frantic blows with a walking stick just to squish him into the carpet. (NB: I'll vacuum later today.)

I HATE SPIDERS. I really do. Hate them. I would be perfectly happy if all the evil deadly varieties of spiders the world over were slowly eradicated by being BBQ'ed slowly over a revolving spit. And while we are at it, get rid of the great white sharks, tiger sharks, makos, and bull sharks. Then I'd feel a little more comfortable in this world.

Speaking of roasting Spiders, I have a little post that I've been meaining to share with you all for some time. (Here it comes Josh). See that pic? The one with the big red spider with its arms up? What would you say if at a BBQ at Josh's place, I hear something drop and a bit of a yell from outside... What if I tell you that the spider was originally gray? Well its all true. One BBQ afternoon, Josh had a big huntsman spider run at him, and around the BBQ.

Now don't get me wrong. I Looove nature as much as the next kangaroo eating guy, but spiders... well they dont share the same sanctity as tigers and snakes. At least with tigers and snakes, you see it, and someone can yell "LOOK OUT, ITS COMING RIGHT FOR US"... but with spiders?... nothing.

So what did me and Josh do? We continually attempted to set fire to the spider with an aerosole can and a big lighter. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Lets just say that the *best* way to do it is to spray the spider with Aerosole so its really wet... then introduce the flame. Burning spiders make funny noises. And end up red.

It has been an interesting few days of competition... We have been having the Commonwealth games. For the benefit of those readers not from the British Empire, the commonwealth games are like the olympics, but without the big strong teams like Russia, China and the USA, and with only the pansy teams like New Zealand and England. And Australia goes around whooping everyone. Except for Sierra Leone. Their athletes magically 'disappear' from the athletes village as soon as they hit the country. Since the games started, 11 out of 22 athletes from that little african nation have high-jumped the fence, and become illegal immigrants.

In other competition news, the Archibald prize (a portrait competition) has been run and won... So I thought maybe we could combine the two, and someone could do a painting of some african athletes 'hurdling' the games village fence... call it 'first across the line'. Then I thought about some other painting ideas...

Country Loving...
There are two lovers, lying in long grass with white flowers... they are partially undressed, and holding each other in a passionate embrace. The painting should be in the shape of binoculars.

The end of toto
In this scene, the inside of a winter log cabin is warmly lit from the flames of a roaring log fire. Next to the fire is a large, homely looking red armchair, and sitting at the foot of that armchair is the pet dog, sleeping soundly by the warm fire. Only the dog doesn't realise that his tail has just caught fire.

exit from eden...
Because we all love a bible painting... This one has Adam and Eve getting kicked out of the garden of eden under the watchful eyes of God, who hovers over both of them inside a big grey cloud. As they leave, Adam looks at Eve and immitates the look on Gods face...

monkey business...
In this painting, George Bush is standing in front of a crowd of people, trying to sound intelligent. But like the monkey he is, he ends up making people laugh and throws his own poo at them...

Ok... so calling someone for their number is preeety stupid. But what happened earlier tonight was seriously on par with something like that.

'Vicious Beats Project' (which is basically half of the supergroup Regiment {Which I happen to play in...}) was playing at powerhouse @ UNSW this Friday night, so, as per the organised deal, I met at Reggies (the Dj's) house, and we decided to head 'his way' into the city driving in 2 separate cars because we have so much drum and music gear to take with us... Im like 'Ive never been through that way before, so I'll just follow you.'

To cut the long 45 minute journey shorter... after about 45 minutes of following Reggie through small city streets in a rather unsavoury part of Sydney, my phone rings... Its Reggie on the other end.

Reggie - Hey...
Will - Hey...
Reggie - Do you know where we are going??
Will - DUDE!!! Im in the care behind you... Im following you!
Reggie - Oh Crap!
Will - Just turn left...

After leading us down a dead end street, I managed to lead Reggie to the Uni, and to the gig. (Which ended up being a lot of fun all things considered...) Do you ever get the feeling that some people just arent as observant as they should be? Go Chitu!

You know, Ive been around a while. And I've heard some crazy things... Some people say that Jesus was this slighty wierd, soft spoken 'gentle man' with long hair, a slight physique and a gentle voice who went around loving everyone and patting lambs and little children...

Im like dude, thats not Jesus, thats Michael Jackson.

Posted in the 'writings' section...

Late at night I'd write my lines, denial at my side,
Defiant words to fool you into thinking life was fine,
But stubborn have I always been, and stubborn am I still,
As a bird I perch here flightless, lacking passion, lacking will.

Although my heart seems armoured now, wings hide the underneath,
The fragile wings are paper thin, a cover for my grief...
For every friend I've hurt or lost, a feather torn and missing,
My pond reflects a pale sight, an ugly bird of skin.

Feathers grow, and flight will come, but I wonder at what cost,
Will these feathers ever number more than all the friends I've lost?
A bird of skin, in silence waits, without a song to sing.
It's not just will that grounds me, for I am a broken wing.

As I perch, atop my tree, watching others fly around,
I look upon my ugly skin, my feathers on the ground...
The realisation hits me now, I cannot grow these by myself,
My feathers need anothers' hand, I need anothers' help.

My talons, they relax their grip, from the tree of bitter grief,
And as I fall and hit the ground, I feel pain and relief.
Pain lies amongst my feathers torn, with all the friends I've lost,
Relief, my tree looks different now, I've fallen at the cross.

Tonight was my mothers birthday... Now, to fill you in, we have a tradition of stupidity in my family birthday dinners. For example, at my family birthday dinner a couple of weeks ago, I got a simpsons dvd, with a simpsons birthday card, and a simpsons chocolate egg. Then I got another simpsons dvd, with simpsons card, and simpsons chocolate egg. And then I got another simpsons dvd, card, and egg. Tonight, I hijacked the presents during dinner, and wrote "To mum - from Gravy (my little sister) & Will" on every single present. Amusing, yes... but the highlight of the night came from my younger sister Bethany.

She didn't want to give mum her present and card, to the point that she began hiding the present during the meal. After much to do, we stole the present and gave it to mum, and when she opened it, she found a little plastic necklace and plastic bracelet, in a glass lolly jar. Cute, because she made them herself.

But the real highlight was something else that was left inside the glass jar. A little tub of 'blistex'. It wasn't even new, there was a finger divet in the blistex that kinda gave it away the fact that it had already been used... She had stolen it from her older sister, and wrapped it up as a present. Rachael just looked at the blistex saying 'I was looking for that this morning!'... So from now on, every birthday party shall include stolen-already-owned-objects as gifts.

In the words of my brother sam (who thinks Enya is a DJ), "Giving gifts has never been so easy"

Take one class of year eleven students in an all girls school. (all seated, waiting for the lesson to start). Add one late plump student, who trudges into class, and in an attempt to go unnoticed, squeezes herself between the glass cabinet, and a line of seated students.

Add 29 curious glances, and mix with the sound of rattling glass, as the girl and lasts weeks pizza's come into contact with the cabinet... slowing the girl between the cabinet and the now helpless other students.

Then sprinkle this mix with a classful of muffled giggles, and the teachers dissaproval. Knead in the sound of a large rocking cupboard, tilting back and forth, thumping the ground each time it lands.

Gently stir in one schoolbag, that flings side to side, hitting other students in the head as its owner tries to move past the cupboard, and finally, garnish with the gentle wheeze of a fat kid, wedged between her classmates seats, and the glass cupboard... looking like a fat cheese wedge.