Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Think I'll pack it in and buy a pick-up
Take it down to L.A.
Find a place to call my own and try to fix up
Start a brand new day.
-Neil Young
Sorry, but this is the end of the line for the Pettifog train. Sure, it's been fun, I've enjoyed it, but like all trains, this one's rusted and spluttered to a slow halt. I could keep chugging on, greasing the wheels and stoking the engines, but to honest my heart's not in it, and all that hot air is making me queasy. Thank you for your readership and your comments and to compadre's Jen, Megan, Sarah and Damian, keep up the good work. But don't worry about me, I'll be fine. In fact, I believe I see a train comin' round the corner right now, bright, shiny and new - might just jump aboard and see where it takes me.
But for now good luck, goodbye, see you further down the line.
A dios.
Chuck.
Take it down to L.A.
Find a place to call my own and try to fix up
Start a brand new day.
-Neil Young
Sorry, but this is the end of the line for the Pettifog train. Sure, it's been fun, I've enjoyed it, but like all trains, this one's rusted and spluttered to a slow halt. I could keep chugging on, greasing the wheels and stoking the engines, but to honest my heart's not in it, and all that hot air is making me queasy. Thank you for your readership and your comments and to compadre's Jen, Megan, Sarah and Damian, keep up the good work. But don't worry about me, I'll be fine. In fact, I believe I see a train comin' round the corner right now, bright, shiny and new - might just jump aboard and see where it takes me.
But for now good luck, goodbye, see you further down the line.
A dios.
Chuck.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I wanna take you where the night never ends
I feel the need to sweep you off your feet
You and me, we should be dancin’ in the sheets
- Shalamar
My garden sparrow had further reason to laugh at me yesterday. It was washing day in Chuxville so after a warm wash, on high water level and fast spin speed my sheets were ready to dry.
(A gripping way to start I know, but wait, it gets better.)
Being Wellington it was as windy as baked bean tasters underwear so after much huffing and puffing I managed to peg up my sheets against the blasting northerly. As I left for my busy day of meetings and brokering I saw a peg fly loose and a sheet billow around in the gale like a Team New Zealand spinnaker. I raced over to the washing line to try and pull it back but with a sudden wind change I found myself completely enveloped in the white cotton. I grabbed at what I could, like a hobbit clutching at Pauline Gillespie's blouse and felt the red mist rise amongst the white, white sheet. Eventually I gained some purchase and yanked as hard as I could. Pegs flew everywhere, narrowly missing my feathered friend who flew to the safety of a lemon tree, while I stamped a muddy footprint on the corner of my white, white sheet. The sparrow shook his head disapprovingly as the sheet spun around on its tether draping me like a bespectacled Nero. And then it was back to square one. Warm wash, high water, spin speed fast.
Bitchin'.
I did think of a new invention though, heated double strength clothes pegs. Double strength of course to counter the Wellington wind, but heated also, because there's that little bit of fabric beneath the pegs that always manages to stay a little wet, and for the life of me, I don't know what to do about it. So there we go, off to invention patents this afternoon.
Oh! Speaking of old ladies, did you hear about that 60 year old woman who wrestled a crocodile off another man in Queensland? Yikes! Wouldn't want to mess with her, but then again I bet she wouldn't muck about getting washing off the line either.
I feel the need to sweep you off your feet
You and me, we should be dancin’ in the sheets
- Shalamar
My garden sparrow had further reason to laugh at me yesterday. It was washing day in Chuxville so after a warm wash, on high water level and fast spin speed my sheets were ready to dry.
(A gripping way to start I know, but wait, it gets better.)
Being Wellington it was as windy as baked bean tasters underwear so after much huffing and puffing I managed to peg up my sheets against the blasting northerly. As I left for my busy day of meetings and brokering I saw a peg fly loose and a sheet billow around in the gale like a Team New Zealand spinnaker. I raced over to the washing line to try and pull it back but with a sudden wind change I found myself completely enveloped in the white cotton. I grabbed at what I could, like a hobbit clutching at Pauline Gillespie's blouse and felt the red mist rise amongst the white, white sheet. Eventually I gained some purchase and yanked as hard as I could. Pegs flew everywhere, narrowly missing my feathered friend who flew to the safety of a lemon tree, while I stamped a muddy footprint on the corner of my white, white sheet. The sparrow shook his head disapprovingly as the sheet spun around on its tether draping me like a bespectacled Nero. And then it was back to square one. Warm wash, high water, spin speed fast.
Bitchin'.
I did think of a new invention though, heated double strength clothes pegs. Double strength of course to counter the Wellington wind, but heated also, because there's that little bit of fabric beneath the pegs that always manages to stay a little wet, and for the life of me, I don't know what to do about it. So there we go, off to invention patents this afternoon.
Oh! Speaking of old ladies, did you hear about that 60 year old woman who wrestled a crocodile off another man in Queensland? Yikes! Wouldn't want to mess with her, but then again I bet she wouldn't muck about getting washing off the line either.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
But here I am again mixing misery and gin
Sitting with all my friends and talking to myself
- Brendan Dugan
Well, the results are in. Not the Aussie election, not the NZ mayoralty elections or even the Fair Go Ad Awards*, but Chuck's 'Which Celebrity Would You Explode?' poll. Well, we had a huge turnout, far bigger than expected, and it brings me much joy to tell you that thirty-six percent of you want to detonate Paul Holmes on a beach in Scotland. Which is nice, thanks to all who voted, and thank you for keeping Dugan safe. Did I tell you I finally got around to playing his record? Well, what can I say, it's utter crap, but enjoyable utter crap, here's the chorus from the standout track on Side One.
But here I am again mixing misery and gin
Sitting with all my friends and talking to myself
I look like I'm having a good time but any fool can tell
That this honky tonk heaven really makes me feel like hell
Maybe it would have been better to blow up Brendan after all.
Actually, what ever happened to New Zealand Country Music? This 'honky tonk heaven' Brendan refers to? I remember staring transfixed at the big neon lasso on the weekly TV show That's Country. I'd put away Action Man and watch bearded troubadours sing out their hearts and denim clad damsels wail in Southern accents, then say 'aw cheers guys thanks' in 'Ainslee to checkout please' voices. Bring 'em back I say, bring 'em all back. All those in favour, stamp your feet, wave your Stetson in the air and say 'Hell yes, that's country!"
* It is my sincere hope that the TV ONE 'Ten Fingers' kid and the M.J. Hooker 'Thank you Mr Hooker' kid get together later in life, endure years of joyless sex and produce a troupe of identical all-singing, all-dancing child performers named 'Sparkle'. Yeah.
Sitting with all my friends and talking to myself
- Brendan Dugan
Well, the results are in. Not the Aussie election, not the NZ mayoralty elections or even the Fair Go Ad Awards*, but Chuck's 'Which Celebrity Would You Explode?' poll. Well, we had a huge turnout, far bigger than expected, and it brings me much joy to tell you that thirty-six percent of you want to detonate Paul Holmes on a beach in Scotland. Which is nice, thanks to all who voted, and thank you for keeping Dugan safe. Did I tell you I finally got around to playing his record? Well, what can I say, it's utter crap, but enjoyable utter crap, here's the chorus from the standout track on Side One.
But here I am again mixing misery and gin
Sitting with all my friends and talking to myself
I look like I'm having a good time but any fool can tell
That this honky tonk heaven really makes me feel like hell
Maybe it would have been better to blow up Brendan after all.
Actually, what ever happened to New Zealand Country Music? This 'honky tonk heaven' Brendan refers to? I remember staring transfixed at the big neon lasso on the weekly TV show That's Country. I'd put away Action Man and watch bearded troubadours sing out their hearts and denim clad damsels wail in Southern accents, then say 'aw cheers guys thanks' in 'Ainslee to checkout please' voices. Bring 'em back I say, bring 'em all back. All those in favour, stamp your feet, wave your Stetson in the air and say 'Hell yes, that's country!"
* It is my sincere hope that the TV ONE 'Ten Fingers' kid and the M.J. Hooker 'Thank you Mr Hooker' kid get together later in life, endure years of joyless sex and produce a troupe of identical all-singing, all-dancing child performers named 'Sparkle'. Yeah.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Perforation problems no one home
Stumbling like a dirty slave
- Iggy Pop
Indeed Iggy, I chipped a hole in my tooth, there's a running sore on my toe and a freight train running through the middle of my head. I'm usually pretty healthy but everything seems to be going a little downhill at the moment. Those just-add -water Just For Men tablets maybe aren’t all they cracked to be. I’ll need to take a few more to be fit though, the Big Day Out is just over the horizon
The line-up so far for NZ’s answer to Altamont includes The Streets, Shihad, The Beastie Boys and the Chemical Brothers who played last time I was there. I remember that because the big robots on the video screen leapt out at me and grabbed my heart and squeezed it in time to the outstanding big beats which poured forth into the sweat filled tent which was surprisingly pleasant, which was a nice day, which is about all I remember, I think, hey, isn't that... thank you mr. hoffman...
Anyhow, looking forward, I enjoy the Streets very much. The Beastie Boys I've never really liked, they just sound too whiney and their rhymes are dumb. Like K.D. Lang. But I did annoy people at certain parties a few years ago my jumping in front of them and yelling "Jump into the party disrupt the whole scene!' but it was generally agreed to be a tiresome performance. Still not quite as bad when I was of the understanding that everyone had heard Justin Timberlake new 'Rock Your Body' single. I was at a party, high as a kite and everyone looked really good. Enough reason therefore to approach a rather stunning young lady and tell her I was "gonna have you naked by the end of this song" followed by three tsch! tsch! tsch!'s and one breathy Michael Jackson 'yeah'.
She stared at me as if I had killed her mum.
But who knows if I'll go BDO'ing next year or not. I might wait for more 'big names to be announced!' or just put on a record, make a cup of Earl Gray, light a pipe, put my feet up, nurse my sore toe, and reminisce about that devastating big beat sound.
Stumbling like a dirty slave
- Iggy Pop
Indeed Iggy, I chipped a hole in my tooth, there's a running sore on my toe and a freight train running through the middle of my head. I'm usually pretty healthy but everything seems to be going a little downhill at the moment. Those just-add -water Just For Men tablets maybe aren’t all they cracked to be. I’ll need to take a few more to be fit though, the Big Day Out is just over the horizon
The line-up so far for NZ’s answer to Altamont includes The Streets, Shihad, The Beastie Boys and the Chemical Brothers who played last time I was there. I remember that because the big robots on the video screen leapt out at me and grabbed my heart and squeezed it in time to the outstanding big beats which poured forth into the sweat filled tent which was surprisingly pleasant, which was a nice day, which is about all I remember, I think, hey, isn't that... thank you mr. hoffman...
Anyhow, looking forward, I enjoy the Streets very much. The Beastie Boys I've never really liked, they just sound too whiney and their rhymes are dumb. Like K.D. Lang. But I did annoy people at certain parties a few years ago my jumping in front of them and yelling "Jump into the party disrupt the whole scene!' but it was generally agreed to be a tiresome performance. Still not quite as bad when I was of the understanding that everyone had heard Justin Timberlake new 'Rock Your Body' single. I was at a party, high as a kite and everyone looked really good. Enough reason therefore to approach a rather stunning young lady and tell her I was "gonna have you naked by the end of this song" followed by three tsch! tsch! tsch!'s and one breathy Michael Jackson 'yeah'.
She stared at me as if I had killed her mum.
But who knows if I'll go BDO'ing next year or not. I might wait for more 'big names to be announced!' or just put on a record, make a cup of Earl Gray, light a pipe, put my feet up, nurse my sore toe, and reminisce about that devastating big beat sound.
Monday, October 04, 2004
Come and smile, don't be shy,
Touch my bum, this is life,
- The Cheeky Girls
Ahh, that's better.
I just needed a break you see. I'd like to say there are all sorts of exciting reasons why I haven't updated this page for a few weeks, but there are none, I just, ya know, needed a break. So thanks for popping by, your patience I assure you, will be rewarded.
So what news of you?
Well I've been fine, just entered a period of inter-seasonal anxiety followed by a warm afterglow of calm which has resulted in me having slightly pinker cheeks than normal. So there we go, three weeks away and all I can report is pink cheeks, fun times if you're at Pitcairn High, but otherwise a dim result.
But yes, pink cheeks, a result of sunshine, which I must confess to lying idly in from time to time. Yesterday I christened my front lawn by sprawling in the grass reading the paper, then retrieved a cool beer from the fridge, wiped it's across my glistening brow and said
'If only we might fall,
Like cherry blossoms in the spring
So pure and radiant.'
A sparrow nodded in quiet appreciation.
Pink cheeks, what else? Well, I had a maths teacher once and he was a prick with pink cheeks. Actually all my maths teachers were pricks (apart from one I developed a teenage Roger Kerr-like crush on) but what singles this one out that his face was a mess of burst blood vessels. He stunk of booze, naturally, but the most distracting thing was trying to study trigonometry while capillary chaos theory exploded across his blotched, sweaty cheeks. But he had the last laugh. He caned me for dousing his classroom in Brut 33 aftershave. The brute.
Anyhow, it's nice to be back.
Touch my bum, this is life,
- The Cheeky Girls
Ahh, that's better.
I just needed a break you see. I'd like to say there are all sorts of exciting reasons why I haven't updated this page for a few weeks, but there are none, I just, ya know, needed a break. So thanks for popping by, your patience I assure you, will be rewarded.
So what news of you?
Well I've been fine, just entered a period of inter-seasonal anxiety followed by a warm afterglow of calm which has resulted in me having slightly pinker cheeks than normal. So there we go, three weeks away and all I can report is pink cheeks, fun times if you're at Pitcairn High, but otherwise a dim result.
But yes, pink cheeks, a result of sunshine, which I must confess to lying idly in from time to time. Yesterday I christened my front lawn by sprawling in the grass reading the paper, then retrieved a cool beer from the fridge, wiped it's across my glistening brow and said
'If only we might fall,
Like cherry blossoms in the spring
So pure and radiant.'
A sparrow nodded in quiet appreciation.
Pink cheeks, what else? Well, I had a maths teacher once and he was a prick with pink cheeks. Actually all my maths teachers were pricks (apart from one I developed a teenage Roger Kerr-like crush on) but what singles this one out that his face was a mess of burst blood vessels. He stunk of booze, naturally, but the most distracting thing was trying to study trigonometry while capillary chaos theory exploded across his blotched, sweaty cheeks. But he had the last laugh. He caned me for dousing his classroom in Brut 33 aftershave. The brute.
Anyhow, it's nice to be back.
