Mmm can’t title the post on one dream..

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Thursday, 4th July 2019

I had three or four dreams last night that made me wake up thanking fuck they were only that.

In the first, one of my ex’s gives birth to this baby of mine last night but doesn’t want it and minutes after squeezing it out the baby is somehow clean: she tells me to take it, so take it: I figure someone should.

With no onesies, mittens or nappies I pick-up this baby and almost as soon as looking at it I notice it’s changed from a human infant to a kind’ve baby elephant: a baby elephant without any trunk, it’s got the same slightly hairy naked skin of ab elephant but with an ambiguous and nondescript face and looked like a cross between a pug dog and a human being.

An ugly little motherfucker indeed, it had folds of loose skin and a pug without the hair but I didn’t mind because whatever else was shit about it, the skin was dry and not all smooth and sticky and disgusting like a regular human newborn.

I sling the little fucker under my arm and leave without any of the usual farewells or other social graces and certainly no cigar to commemorate the occasion.

I should state for clarity that this was at night, and though I was about to head home I decide to stop in at one of the fast food joints in town to grab some hot chips to go with the fresh bread and butter I already had at home since a person’s gotta eat, so start walking up the road with this stubble-covered baby elephant-thing under my arm.

Houston, we have a problem..

I’ll finish writing-up the rest of the dream later, but I’ve a more pressing issue: I need to remove my griping about the nursery so I can hand the sites’ URL to Tanya – manager at the nursery.

And no, I don’t have any desire to seduce her with my awesome: I want to re-create the nurserys’ website from scratch because it looks like fucking shit and I can do so much better.

The site is though there’s hardly a reason to visit due to the fact it’s not only ugly, but so poorly maintained there’s really nothng worth reading there at all; here’s a screenshot to show you the level of ugly we’re dealing with here..

Naturally I’ll have to reword some of the last few paragraphs to not sound so damning of whoever created and currently maintains the site, though I’ve got no idea who it is handles that – obviously a volunteer because no halfway competent web-design company would charge for such an awful site.

There’s actually two reasons I want to redo the site: firstly, as I said I can shit on what’s there now and – more importantly – it’ll give me something else to add to the resume other than ‘cleaner’, which may in turn lead to something from other small local businesses who can pay something for a website but cannot afford a full-blown web-design company.

The issue is, that whoever currently maintains the site is about to be butt-hurt about my proposition to seriously replace the rubbish that’s there now, and if it’s the old woman who does the accounting at the nursery, even more so because – from what I’ve gleaned from what I’ve over-heard of her conversations with Tanya – she seems to believe she’s pretty hot shit with computers, having done that Introduction to Computers for Seniors course back in 2006 and – indeed – when I mentioned the site needing an upgrade today while I was there it was the accounting woman who quickly spat out a quick, “No oh, just don’t you worry about that”, so I’d say it’s her does the site.

My plan is to create the new nursery site here in a subdirectory though to show them what they could have, so that old bitch will have to just choke-down the slice of humble pie: it’s a very small site far as content goes and once I’ve created the sites stylesheets and layout, copying the existing photos, text, pages and menus will be less than an hours work.

Course if I bin the photos they’ve got up now with my own photography the site will take another step-up in quality too and as they cannot even take donations online with the site they’ve got becuse they’re just static pages, using wordpress will mean I can fix that to allow them to take donations online via credit card or paypal – yet another upgrade for them.

The other issue is that I’ll need to be given server access to the site, so dependng how anal they are about handing over the keys it might not happen no matter how much better my version of the site actually is.

We’ll see.

I should’ve already finished updating and clearning out the bits I don’t want but got distracted shaving and grooming myself and fo the first time in a while I actually washed my hair properly – opposed to just wetting in down before leaving the house: he water in the sink wasnt exactly filthy afterwards, but tinted light grey and there would’ve been white a bit of dust and whatever in there to wash out.

I should trim my nose hairs while I’m in the mood actually, hang on..

It’s very early but I’m fucked and already quite well contented by the proposition of becoming horizontal and unconscious: last night’s multi-dream, broken sleep and the 5:00 AM start that did it.

Even this post is scattered back and forth and lacking the usual focus, so I’ll go create another subdomain for the new nursery site then catch-up on those iview shows I’ve been waiting to be aired – see how many of the four or so episodes I can successfully uh, view, before passing-out.

Friday, 5th July 2019

There’s the naked, skeletal install, but bare in mind I haven’t touched a line of code yet and haven’t started on the stylesheets so it’s only a default red/black/white theme to match the logo: it’s just a fresh wordpress install with an untouched default theme.

I hate those slide-down menus too – even though they’re mobile browser friendly – so I’ll get rid of that and install Google’s font API but I’m still tired now – should’ve gone to bed earlier than 3:00 AM. Mm.

I would’ve at least created a logo with green in it personally, since that’s universally associated with plants but that’s what they have.

10:51 AM

I’ve told everyone I’m too tired to give a fuck today and will ‘supervise’ from the swivel chair I’m currently sitting in.

They’re fine with that if course, and I’ve told everyone in the office they’re doing an excellent job, “Good job everyone, good good that’s great!!”


I’ve placed-out a bunch of tubes and pots on a table to dry – since that’s easy enough even in my current haze of tiredness – and have helped myself to the wifi password on the base of the modem so I can download all the podcasts I can for the weekend, before I go so I’ll do that in a minute.

Good job me, excellent, good stuff.

See this is what happens when not enough sleep happens: I start writing about the most mind-numbing shit imaginable, though I’ve gotta do something to amuse myself in a swivel chair all day – Verity suggested the pots to give me something to do if I feel like it, which I would’ve done even if I wasn’t bored because Verity’s very intelligent and I like the woman, but that was only 10 minutes work.

Podcasts, right..

1:40 PM

Verity’s brought me a cup of fresh chicken soup she brought with her for lunch.. good value see..

When I say fresh, I mean supermarket bought but in a tub already made, ready to heat & eat and, well, tasted like homemade.

She’s also told me she has several brand new jars of organic instant coffee at her place that have never been opened because they switched to real ground coffee a few months ago and won’t drink the instant, so she offered to bring them in for me.

Of course I jumped on that and said I’d be more than happy to take them off her hands, especially given that even instant coffee is a reasonably high-value grocery item and she said she’d bring ’em in for me 😊

3:23 PM


I have been at Tanya today about the site, and my original surmisal of the situation was almost completely accurate: though I’m not sure who originally created the site, the hoity-toity old woman who does the accounting there is the one who handles the website, and she likes her little site just the way it is.

She is in the minority in that opinion, with all four volunteers in the office today stating that the current website is “Not where people are at these days”, “A bit basic”, “Pretty dated”, “Mm, simple” and of course for me, I said it was “Absolute garbage.”

The accounting woman – who’s name I found out today is Veronica – has fought changes to the site for over 6 years now, declaring there’s nothing wrong with the site as-is and if I were to have a stab at why she seems unable to acknowledge anything needs to change there it’s because she’s a control freak who’s knowingly ignorant to the fact that there are other people who can do a far better job than she can.

Even Katoomba TAFE tried to re-create the site as a student project a few years ago: Veronica wouldn’t have a bar of it – insisting that the site needs no improvements at all made to it.

You believe that self-important shit?

I don’t.

Certainly, I can believe a 65-year-old rich bitch would think far too much of herself – there’s no shortage of those around – and that she’d over-rate her own skill-set, but I can’t believe anybody would fight other people from raising the bar and try to actively prevent quality improvments that would benefit a charity because of her own inflated ego.

Another vapid, soul-less banshee.. they walk along us like fuckin skin-walkers.

I managed to get everyone talking about the site today and though Verity and Peter were cleaning seeds in the office so participated in the conversation throughout – which I welcomed since they agreed with everything I was saying – it was Tanya I focused mostly on as I explained that not only can I give them a site that’s infinately better than the ugly shit they have now, I can create the new nursery site entirely on my own server first, send them the link and let them to judge for themselves before deciding on anything.

Them by the way, are the commitee, who ultimately decide on any matters of significance including major changes to such things as the site so we’re suddenly dealing with a group of people who need to vote on changes relating to the nursery and it’s operations before things happen and suddenly have a political component standing between my wanting to improve the online face of the windplant rescue service.

This makes me even more interested in pushing for them to allow me to do what I want, because I like interpersonal politics and I instantly started considering who’s who within the commitee: I don’t know all the members of course, but I know Tanya, Richard, Verity, Veronica and Francis are in it.

Francis knows I don’t like her and since I refused to carry a tray of seedlings for her fat lazy arse two weeks ago, she doesn’t like me either but Francis is batshit crazy and everybody knows it which leaves Veronica, who doesn’t know me and doesn’t have any reason to dislike me outside the fact she was there yesterday when I mentioned I wanted to bin her tacky excuse for a website and replace it with a platform that can do anything they need it to do.

Richard, Tanya and Verity all love me.

There’s many more points of conversation went on regarding the site, but to truncate that all into a final summary I did a pretty good job of pointing out the pros of my doing the site versus the cons of leaving it as is and although Tanya did say it’s up to the committee and not just her, she also appeared pretty relaxed and accepting of the idea by the time everyone had argued for and with me and I made a point of stipulating that my motivation is two-fold: to give them a much better site at no cost to them and to have a site to start a portfolio with, in order to gain at least the potential for minor work doing small local sites for small local businesses: I pointed out, basically, that although I’m brilliant with web-design I’ve never got any formal qualifications and this could be step one in circumventing that and doing it anyway – all I’d want is the usual link at the bottom of the page crediting me as the site’s creator, so I can forward people there to view my work rather than here to read all the ‘mental’.

The biggest concern she said they’d likely have is that I’ll leave the nursery eventually and then who will update the site, and said that was one of the problems with the TAFE students doing it when they offered.

I reassured her that wordpress is extremely easy to learn to use and requires no more skill than Microsoft word to update once the backend and styling is all done and anybody here can do it on their phone.

God fucking unknown/private/spam calls.. I get them every afternoon – usually from AGL – and they deeply piss me off: not only are they an invasion of privacy they interrupt my concentration and whatever podcast I’m listening to since I’ve gotta pull my phone out my pocket and swipe the red button to get the show playing again.

Pineapple lumps! .. I’d forgotten these even existed until I saw them yesterday at Coles.

Introducing EXPANDABLE rants 😏

I know, it’s a great idea and been a long time coming since I’m only sporadically motivated and baseline to thinking more than doing: for over a year now I’ve considered using expandable accordian-style inserts to reduce rants, monologues and pissed-off diatribes so that people can avoid having to sit through paragraph after paragraph of angry words if they don’t want to read them – now I’ve finally implemented it.

It’s not the most elegant answer from my end, because it requires I manually type shortcodes similar to HTML that bracket content and looks a bit ugly from the back-end while editing, but it accordians any content so you the reader have the option to simply ignore my extended diatribes, or click to expand and help yourself – check it out…

Why you’re an idiot if you don’t eat meat..

I’ve gotta eat the rest of the ham, though it’s cold enough to not require refrigeration lately: I eat ham because as much as I love animals and abhor unecessary cruelty and as bad as it is that animals have to die to make that moist, juicy off-the-bone ham I’m about to eat, I am a caucassian male of european decent so my body and digestive system has evolved to eat meat; over hundreds of generations, since the year dot so for me to not eat meat would be flat-out stupidity when my biology has been honing itself generation after generation to process meat in the most efficient possible way.

I know I know: animals have rights, PETA hates the meat industry and the utterly mindless mainstream middle-class preach like born-again christians the evils of meat, but they are fools, and meat is absolutely necessary.

I’ve got little K9 fangs like a dog among my teeth, developed specifically for tearing meat to ribbons for more efficient digestion because – like every other human-being on earth – I am a not only a carnivorous bi-pedal mammal but an apex predator and no amount of propaganda online from idiots who follow other idiots can change the fact.

Bare with me here because the point of this extended insult to vegetarians and vegans isn’t just to spew forth a few historic fun-facts but illustrate with simple logic that eliminating meat from the human dietary arsenal will have obvious and negative though as yet mostly unknown consequences on everybodies long-term health and maybe even genetics: we’ve been consuming dead animals for so long now, removing it can’t possibly be good – no matter how nice a meat-free diet makes everybody feel, feel is the operative word, with people usually removing meat from their diet in our current social climate based on an emotional reaction to their perception of animal cruelty.

That’s a VERY bad reason to stop eating something that’s been working for us as a species for HUNDREDS of THOUSANDS of years now when the truth of the matter is that we owe a lot to the animal flesh that so many people now shun and look down upon because they’re either too good or too precious or too carebear to eat such a crucial food all of a sudden.

In fact, we wouldn’t have come as far as a species had we not evolved in unison with the animals we’ve hunted and eaten our entire history on the planet, and that meat we’ve sought-out for so long is much more than just protein, iron and fats: it’s a complicated substance that cannot be substituted with plant matter that contains the same basic constituents – it’s just not that simple; meat is irreplacable.

Since we were mere rodents hiding in holes in the ground as far back as the end of the Ice Age, our ancestors have changed and adapted slowly over time to best hunt, capture and utilize the nutritional benefits of meat and if any of you reading this now think that disregarding millions of years of natural selection and biological development simply because you got the fuzzies for farmyard animals, then YOU are a poor misled idiot.

Not eating meat is bad for human-beings and I realize I’ve said this several times before both individually to people I’ve spoken to AND here on the site but the more I’ve thought about it, the more it’s bothered me: just stop and ponder the paragraph preceeding this for a few minutes and view it through the crystal-clear lens of logic – consider how long it’s taken the human species to grow from those little rat-like fuckers munching-out on grubs and bugs to the deadliest species on the planet.

We didn’t get to this point simply chewing grass like cows and our brains, intelligence and physical abilities/attributes grew and expanded owing to the meat we’ve always eaten and to increase our ability to do it better with every generation – we have eyes located at the front of our heads and razor-sharp vision for pinpointing prey animals.. hang on..

Slick as an ovulating woman, that πŸ¦‘

Of course I’ll probably add my own CSS once I get around to it and create a definition in the wordpress stylesheet file that will colour and style the section however I like while the animated ‘bounce’ is just a visual cue that lets you know it’s there though the animation is important because it’ll quickly create a visual association with collapsed passages of writing and I am almost entirely a visual thinker, so anyone reading the site who’s like me will love it.

I’ll also create a pair of reusable blocks for the editor so I can wrap any passage of text that I feel goes on a bit too long, is overly negative or really any other reason I might feel the urge to collapse and shrink anything I’ve written into a single animated title line.

The problem with smoking..

This weeks’ pipe tobacco is Amphora, which doesn’t interest anyone here except me although I like it better than the Borkum Riff Original I tried last fortnight. I certainly didn’t dislike last weeks’ tobacco yet if I’m going to cough-up $90 for a 50g tin or pouch I may as well try different brands.

There’s really a shitful range of options at the tobacconist in town: I’ve been reading-up on different tobaccos – Mac Baron is popular according to online reviews people have written and they stocked that here at least.

If I want any choice of pipe tobaccos I’ll have to go to Penrith next time.

Amphora ‘Full Aroma’ with a very tastfully applied photoshop radial blur to facilitate a bit of foreground ‘pop’.

Yes indeed, anything can be animated and I’ve had the shortcodes installed since the site was on the old HostMonster server but never really bothered to use it and can’t see any reason to go mental with it now: an animation here or there for the newly implimented collapsable text is fine and good, but too much animation puts strain on your eyes and gets tacky real quick. More than that though: moving elements are great for attracting the eye when used sparingly, but stick them in all over the place and you’re eyes don’t know what they’re looking at then stop paying attention – ergo, I lose the impact of that easily distinguishable visual assocation I meantioned earlier causing those special monologues to no longer catch your eye, so we’ll save it for them. Maybe the featured image in the start of each post too, why not – it’s my show after all.

You see that without the cloud of cannabis brain-speed returns to normal and things requiring mental initiative become a much more straightforward affair, though I’ve gotta go to bed before I can tweak or refine because it’s 1:07 AM, I haven’t had nearly enough sleep lately and though I can sleep-in all I want since it’s now Saturday, I’d rather not wake-up at midday.

Anyway, you don’t need to rub or otherwise pre-prepare ribbon-cut tobacco at all before stuffing your pipe, but I’ve started rubbing it a bit anyhow because it makes it softer and more consistent in texture.

I forgot to mention the problem with smoking though the problem is quite simple, I love it: mostly I love the tobacco before it’s smoked; I love the smell of it, the texture, the rum/licorice/whatever flavours might be present in the moist new product and I LOVE cracking open a new pouch and smelling it while it’s still freshly opened: sweet, toffee, chocolate, fruity smells that are outstanding and though I naturally love the actual smoking of the shit and the nicotine abatement that goes with that.

I’m not so keen for the smell of any cigarette smoke as it’s burning ironically: I’m not offended by it like non-smokers are, I just don’t find the smell of cigarettes particularly appealing is all and though I adore the smell of bushfire and campfire smoke, but most tobacco just smells like chemicals when it’s actually burning.

The pipe tobaccos I’ve bought the last two weeks or so smell much ‘prettier’ in the room than cheaper cigarette tobaccos however, and not anywhere near as offensively strong as cigar smoke.

So that’s the problem anyway: it’s addictive, it smells like fine liquer in the pouch before it’s burning so I could just sniff that shit all day and actually having it – I love having tobacco.

Saturday, 6th July 2019

Many things to write, not much time to write it and not because I’m terminally ill or similar, but because I’ve got another site to do, though I certainly don’t want be cremated when death fucks me – I want to be buried and rot in the ground.

Vampires get cremated and I’m not a vampire – I’d much prefer the thought of decomposing in soil and fertilizing the ground, than to be burnt to dust then scraped in a bin – fuck that. I’m pretty sure a burial plot is thousands of dollars of course, so I’d better start saving because though I wil never have the money to own my own house I can probably afford a 6 foot Γ— 4 foot hole for myself when I’m too dead to enjoy it πŸ’€

A morbid kind of home ownership, when it no longer matters at all.

The funeral itself? Couldn’t give a fuck if there even is one: long as I’m buried so I’m still here in existance in some physical form: even if that’s just greasy bones soaked in sludge oozing liquified foulness – it’s better than a garbage bin πŸ˜‰

Yeah I’ve got to start on the nursery site, though I’ve had several extended trains of thought over the past week or so I wouldn’t mind vomiting fourth.

Not ranty or hateful thoughts or even thoughts about people either, just multi-faceted, philosophically inclined musings so you know I’ll be wanting to do make you adopt my way of thinking and they’ll take time to edit.

We also aren’t sure the commitee will allow any new site to replace the existing mess that’s there – no matter how much better it is, so I’ll take my time and do it in bits here and there opposed to charging at it full-tilt.

Old-Brian is was not only at the library today while I was there using their wifi to save my mobile data, but not wearing a hat! I know! Iwas surprised myself – I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without some kind of hat, cap, beanie or something on his head so he’s obviously decided to let what little hair is left, ‘down’, before leaving his place today.

Don’t go crazy Brian πŸ™‚

We didn’t talk for long today because I was fucking around downloading episodes while Brian wanted to watch some old mate of his play chess and he did invite me to come with him down the end of the table to watch, but I graciously declined – exciting as that sounded.

Matter of fact the only reason he came over to talk to me was to tell me I should seek training in management and leadership, through online studies or volunteering because Brian insists that’d be of some benefit to me and it’s not the first time he’s brought the topic up.

I told him management would indeed be a good generic qualification to have since every place needs a manager, but he’s clarified he meant leadership training, like I’ve got anobody to actually lead.

I certainly possess the depth of thought and perspective for a leadership role along with the moral integrity to know where the lines are and the intellect to scate the edge of those lines without crossing them, but what Brian probably isn’t aware of is I don’t care much about the human race and am usually too focused on my own immediate needs not being filled to care about anyone else anyway.

Maybe I can lead all the other dole-bludgers to canberra to demand a payrise!

Lunatic old man.

Tuesday, 9th July 2019

Honestly I fucking wish winter would hurry up and end. Not because of the cold parse but my apparent inability to regulate heat: I’m either comfortable outside and streaming sweat inside or comfortable inside and freezing my dick off out.

11:07 AM

Fucking asian tourists.

Last bus was full and just trying to get on this one I put up with two of the little fuckers squeezing between me and the bus itself so I lean-in against the bus but STILL the little arsehole’s trying to squeeze-in between the gap, snapped and turned to yell “Just fucking wait ya cunts! FUCK!”

Fuckin hobbits even on the bus I can smell the sickness in their breath: the whole bus fuckin stinks like it and there’s a million shuffling around like fucktards waiting for every bus.

Personality – almost forgot about that.

Hard to concatenate so many threads into a single criteria though mm.

Wednesday, 10th July 2019

You would almost not know where I start and the bitumen ends: stupidly, I voluntarily offered to blast the slippery moss off the patio bricks a week ago and that is the result of today’s effort.

I can’t write that more amusing once I’ve rinsed the dirt, moss, silt and other filth off my face and out my eyes and hair – if I can be arsed, which I can’t, so most likely won’t.

Thursday, 11th July 2019

Since moving here I’ve heard all this shit about how fantastic the mysterious Wollemi Pine is, and what a massive deal it was to discover it within a tiny, isolated pocket of the national park where it had been apparently frozen in time from the prehistoric era while everything else evolved around it.

Finally I’ve been introduced to this tree in person and I’ve gotta say I’m in agreement: the fuckin thing looks exactly like a species that should’ve become extinct alongside the triceratops and tyrannosaurus ..

Turns out it’s not a pine at all, but simply was given a common name that’s nothing to do with the species which could seem disappointing until you google the common name: the Wollemi Pine has its very own family created just for itself.

I only saw the dinosaur-era Wollemi’s for the first time while moving an eight foot tree fern with a trunk over a foot thick that very nearly crushed my right knee: having taken several of us an hour in turns to saw down then three of us to roll, tilt and get this arsehole upright on a trolly before rolling it around the other side of the building, we’d finally positioned it next to the pre-dug hole and decided to just let it thump to the ground.

Julie and the old guy gave it a little shove just as I’ve realized my foot was caught under the trolly and all I could do was watch for the half-second it took to thump down over my leg.

I might’ve even winced slightly as I watched it fall and waited for the pain: a moment later it was on top of my leg but no pain – the trolly itself had a slight arch in the back that saved my knee being crushed πŸ˜–

Yeah it doesn’t look like much but that’s only the crown: the hole the majority of the plant is buried in was 4-5 feet deep and despite how light these fuckers look with all that soft, fuzzy shit, the trunk itself was so full of water it had sponged-up it felt like the motherfucker was made of solid water.

Like, chop a fresh carrot in half: that’s how wet and dense it was all the way through.

Lucky the trolly didn’t have a flat back anyhoo and yes: I shouldered the fern and pushed the trolly mostly by myself because the old guy had needed a break from his contribution to sawing it down and Julie is way too tiny of course, but they both acted as balances – flanking each side as I rolled it – to prevent the ugly fern falling as I pushed.

Just pointing out I didn’t simply stand around telling the others what to do, is all, and that wasn’t even my primary job for the day – I’ve been productive enough the past few days to make-up for my laziness just week when something stupidly possessed me to offer to power-clean the patio pavers because they’re so slippery people are constantly nearly falling and several people have fallen, twisted, sprained stuff – one of the old guys even broke his wrist in three places and you know I’m ALL ABOUT other people’s being all safe and warm and fuzzy and shit, so I stated I would clean the outdoor areas of slippery if they organize the pressure cleaner and much like the tree-fern, everyone has talked since I started at the nursery about how it really needs to be done – yet nobodies fuckin’ done anything about it.

I’m not talking about the women, who understandably shouldn’t have to break a sweat or their backs doing heavy shit – indeed, I make a point of handling the wheelbarrows full of potting mix and keeping them supplied so they don’t have to shovel dirt because they’re female – regardless their age.

Similarly, while cleaning at The Ritz I never let the chick I was cleaning the place with go near a toilet or bathroom because she shouldn’t have to and didn’t have to clean them because I much preferred to clean all the toilets than see her doing that sort of work.

But the other males at the nursery are not of the same mind as me and do no heavy lifting for any of the women at all and they’re older than me: they should have an even stronger sense of that whole thing than I fuckin do.

The whopping two who DO want to do the gentlemanly thing are about the same age as Old-Brian and not physically strong enough to be any real use but at least gesture at helping with little things, while the rest – all able-bodied – do nothing to assist the fairer sex.

Maybe when I’m that old I won’t care either, but then they’re only 10-15 years older than me mm.

So I’ve spent the past two days drenched from the knees down, covered in mud and stopping only to occasionally clear gobs of crap out my eyes or to allow people to pass without being sprayed..

Hence the filthy feet photo yesterday.

Dunno why I’m writing any of this: I’ll never read back over it and it’s not exactly headline news, though I suppose it’s nice, brain-free writing – simply documenting what I’ve done.

Friday, 12th July 2019

For this weeks’ podcast listening I’ve switched topics to unsolved mysteries and listened to two separate series about Skinwalker Ranch in Uintah Basin in Utah, near the Grand Canyon.

It’s nice to hear about make-believe monsters for a change instead of real, human ones with heads in their freezers but they were also very well delivered stories with some very funny moments with salt-of-the-earth cattle farmers completely losing their shit in the face of weird creatures, UFOs and their cattle-dogs being vaporized by crackling orbs of light: for the comedy value alone they were worth listening to, but I also randomly sat through a 4 hour, two part series about two people I’ve never really bothered to learn anything about.

Bonnie and Clyde.

All class compared to contemporary criminals, I always assumed they’d be an ugly pair, given their dirt poor, Texan dust-bowl background but they were not, well neither were ugly though I’ve not bothered grabbing one of Clyde’s photos to demonstrate, here’s his better half: Bonnie Parker.

Of course she’s no traffic-stopping glamour – forget about that – she’s actually quite beautiful without the scrunched facial expressions and at just under 5′ tall she’s no lumbering giraffe of a woman who’s certainly cute and reminded me of someone – if not very briefly: short, pale and feisty enough to be a complete pain in the arse.

Anyway both were ambushed by law enforcement and Clyde was sniped dead instantly with a single headshot, sending Bonnie into hysterics as she howled-out such an animal scream everyone present said they’d never heard anything like it.

That’s fuckin’ love, that is.

A moment after that, a whole group of police hiding in the bushes both sides of the road in ambush all opened fire and turned a wailing Bonnie into hamburger meat with over 150 very high powered rounds that cut straight through Bonnie, Clyde and their stolen Ford like butter.

Sadly, neither were any kind of rampaging mass murderers – just common thieves who liked to dress well and given they both came from absolute poverty who’d hold that against them.

The only people they did gun down were a sprinkling of cops and only then because they were cornered and being shot at themselves: Texas Rangers were simply embarrassed about a pair of upstart petty thieves eluding them and once those iconic photos were printed by newspapers Bonnie and Clyde instantly went from nobodies to superstars: strangers even let them stay in their houses – the public loved them.

Saddest of all? They were deliberately buried separately instead of side by side.

Monday, 15th July 2019

7:05 AM

So there’ll be no forced 4-day fasting this week leading-up to payday: I got saved 🌞

I was going to write a little string of paragraphs last week about that too, because – though nobody wants to not have any food – I got to reading about these monks in Thailand and China a few weeks ago that led me to google fasting.

Evidently, intermittently fasting is extremely good for your health.

These monks were clearly freaky-devout and I’ll try and find the wiki article again because the fasting in itself wasn’t the the thing got me reading about them – all monks fast – but the fact the height of dedication saw some practice a kind of pre-mummification of themselves leading to death: they’d eat only a very limited diet consisting of really only leaves and sticks, designed to burn-up as much body fat and moisture so as they gradually starved themselves to death their bodies found become little more than bone and skin with a tiny amount of muscle, which would stop their corpses from rotting after death.

Like human beef jerky “on-the-bone” πŸ˜‰

Here it is – the practice is called Sokushinbutsu and though this might seem a bit morbid for seven in the morning, it’s what triggered my googling “fasting” so I wanted to get to the source and shove it in here since I know that once I move on to another topic I’ll not bother returning here to edit later.

Obviously they’re no advertisement for fasting, though (equally obvious) they’ve chosen to literally fast themselves to death but I’ve always had a feeling it isn’t that bad for me since, logically, all the animalia families on earth have evolved to deal with periods when nutrition is scarce and we’ve only quite recently had such an abundance of food filling supermarkets in every town in the first world.

Waddling in and out of shops every day like junkies for their favorite foodie fix, fat people are not only in danger of their own heart exploding, they’re doing damage to the human genome with fat parents raising fat kids, generation after generation, fatter and fatter: they’re as poisonous to our species as psychopaths, inbreeding siblings and known genetic deformities and should be removed from the population before they further deteriorate our genetics – not left to spread like disease.

Course drowning-off the fat and dumb is about as likely to happen as the mega-rich suddenly giving away their billions in cash just to elevate the poor though the idea of culling the unintelligent is a great idea too: with so many morons doing so much breeding, society and humanity will always remain bogged-down by that majority – a majority that collectively dictates the ‘average’, and average is only ever the mid-point in any statistic.

So if 80% make up the majority and the majority are only ever hovering around the average/mid-point for intelligence, health and everything else, how the fuck is the human species ever going to transcend the status-quo when all the ‘average’ Janes and Joes hold the majority vote and make only average decisions with their average little brains?

Can’t wipe out 80% of the population – though that’d sure make for a more attractive, more enlightened world – because the average majority won’t allow themselves to be wiped-out, which leaves the 10% who are truly exceptional in intelligence, health or a myriad other ways completely outnumbered and unable to convince the 80% majority how braindead they are: a case of that majority truly being too dumb to know just how dumb they actually are.

Like explaining to a dog that it isn’t smart enough to understand basic maths: all the dog cares about is food, comfort and the toy it’s chewing – you’re wasting your time trying to explain mathematics to a dog.

Being in the 99th percentile it’s easy for me to look down on almost everybody I’ve ever met and though there are people more intelligent than I am they’re so few in number I honestly don’t believe I’ve met even one in my life to date, which makes getting along with other people a hard thing to manage, given almost everyone I meet only seem to parrot things they’ve heard from people wiser than themselves – that’s the absolute pinnacle of intelligence for most people.

Maybe one – I might’ve met one person as smart as me ❣

Statistically though, I’d have to meet over 300,000 people to meet another with my IQ and only 1:1,000,000 people are more intelligent: I’d have to really try to manage to meet 50,000 people in my entire life, so the likeliness I’ll ever even bump into another with a 136 IQ is effectively nil.

You see, I cannot even keep a rant on track without wandering-off on a tangent.

Yeah if you’re fat and offended, good and all the dumb are too busy watching TV to read anyway; dogs all numbly chewing their favourite squeaky toys.

Loose weight, be less disgusting: nobody wants to hear the obese whine about what a struggle it is to sluggishly drag themselves around the place and nobody believes you have a ‘glandular condition’ – your ‘glands’ are fat because you eat like a champion only to sit on your arse eating breakfast; sit on your arse driving around town; sit on your arse at work and sit on your arse watching TV at night – eat less and watch those glands get thin.

See what I did there – you have to deliberately tap the title to know what’s in there, so nobody can complain if they find themselves butthurt, which you couldn’t be unless you are morbidly obese yourself and if that’s the case you’re no more than a glutton, a sub-species that lives to eat and eats enough to feed an entire family: that alone is disgusting and you don’t matter to me at all.

I know I know, at least one person will wonder why I’m abusing fat people as if I’m in a really hateful mood, but I’m not feeling hateful at all, just veering off topic in a polarized way: the topic being food and fasting and monks eating leaves. Ruminating on how repulsive the fat and greedy are is only the natural back-side of the front-side of the thought.

I should be talking to Old-Brian about some of this: I remember him telling me he’d found a new way of thinking that would allow the indexing and recalling of complicated thoughts more efficiently. I grew bored super-quick because he wasn’t articulating his idea nearly as well as the very idea he was trying to explain should’ve facilitated, but I think I have found a way of thinking that seems to allow the correct answer to any given problem with near-on no actual knowledge on any given a topic: just the application of simple logic, common-sense and a few variables relating to the subject matter.

Right, fasting: gotta get that thought back on track, though mm.. it’s getting late in the day.

I heard years ago that the human body only has so much energy available at any given time and digestion uses a lot of resources, so refraining from eating redirects that energy into the immune system and can speed-up recovery when you’re sick and I’ve found that’s true: the few times in my life I’ve been sick enough to not want to eat – whether it be caused by a flu, lung infection or whatever – I have found that an illness that had lasted weeks to that point was ended just days after I stopped eating, and not just tapered-off – stopped dead in its’ tracks: sick as shit for weeks then clear, clean and feeling a million bucks after just a few days of abstinence from food.

Wednesday, 17th July 2019

Okay so this grueling two weeks of nothing-but- pressure- cleaning-pavers is almost over and – though it’s turned into a bit of an OCD/Perfectionist obsession the longer I’ve been doing it – I’m happy I can finally see a day in the not too distant future where my shoes, socks and pants aren’t drenched, squishing and squelching water all day long.

I get to the Nursery this morning at about 10:00, get myself a coffee then go outside to drink it and then return to the office to plug my various lithium-ion battery packs in to charge.

No sooner do I get inside Peter – the geeky old know it all who’s constantly correcting everybody any chance he gets – shows ne this stack of DIY laminated photos: of buses – he’s one of those weird breed of old people who really, really like trains and subsequently told everybody he’d been to Melbourne on the weekend just to look at trains ..

Now I have to interrupt my own monologue here to say I kinda have to question the validity of anybody traveling interstate to look at trains, buses or any other vehicle, really because it sounds like the kind of thing a pedophile or rapist would do and the reason it sounds like that is because many, many serial predators do just that: they’re almost all into field trips for no real reason and Melbourne is a fucking long way to go just to photograph “trains”.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not declaring him to be a pervert, simply opining about whether a 60 year old man who lives alone, has mentioned in passing that he’s no interest in partnering with a woman and gives off a vibe of general weirdness really has wholesome motives for traveling so far for something most people are consider ridiculous.

Anyway I look at the laminated photos of this bus and that, a yellow bus, a green bus another green bus oh wow a BLUE bus.. I’d just about started assembling the words in my head that would adequately mock the absurdity of a grown man that age even engaging in such a childish activity, when I thought better of it and decided to feign mild interest instead: not only do I not care at all what he is or where he goes and not only is it first thing in the morning, I am practicing being universally charming which means I have to resist the urge to cut people down for my own amusement – far more useful to me to have everyone believe I think they’re great, than polarize every group I’m in by ostracizing and insulting targeted people I dislike then smirk as they go on to bend other peoples’ ears about what an arsehole I am.

Better to hate people secretly and have them remain useful: I was even nice to Francis before we locked-up and left this afternoon.

Again today I ended up swimming in cold water, though on every day I’ve done this now I’ve found that by the time I’m moving around the wet doesn’t feel cold or maybe it’s the two layers of thermal leggings under my pants, but once you’re wet you’re wet and don’t much care about it anymore.

Problem is, with little gobs of silt, chunks of rock, sand and moss backed by 2000 PSI of water shooting randomly out all directions in a twenty meter arc nobody else can use the outdoor area without being hit by flying shit and nobody else wants to get wet or muddy.

Thursday, 18th July 2019

6:02 AM

So annoying was the resource limit errors last night that I’ve set the site to build a preloaded copy of every page which started as a nine hour process.

It’s down to three hours now and by 9:00 AM the entire site will be serving compressed, pre-loaded pages to all guests and bots, with fresh pages only being sent to logged-in users: a fraction the resources and loads faster but doesn’t update everything on the page every time it’s visited.

I could’ve just set it to cache images actually since they never change acces are 5-7mb/per, but it’s not a bandwidth limit issue – is the number of processes the server is using and pre-loading should fix that.

If only dedicated servers weren’t so expensive I’d have a whole quad-core CPU and 5Gb RAM to myself, but the motherfucks charge $128/month for that shit and that’s USD: almost $200 Australian – and that’s still cheaper than the last hosting provider!

Bastard pigfuckers.

If I had the NBN, unlimited broadband and a reasonable desktop tower I could have my own physical server: install linux on the fucker slap Apache, PHP, MySQL and PERL on that and I’d never pay a cent for some arsehole company to rent me a bit of disk space in Illinois!

It’s like renting a tiny garden shed because you lack the outlay to buy some land and own a much better shed of your own.

Did that years ago – had my own dedicated tower, but that was before NBN and before I had anything to say about anything, really.

Friday, 19th July 2019

Words are a remarkable thing.

I’m catching-up on Wentworth and An Idiot Abroad: one look at the riduculous amount of planet/moon-landing/solar-system effluent they’re flooding iview with was instantly enough to repel me from bothering with them which is a pity, since I usually like universe-related documentaries but not 15 of the same Brian Cox and Julia Zemiro hosted shit all at once yeah, and there was no moon-landing anniversary party or any hoity-toity lala for me which only served to blacken my view of them further.

So I wont be adding anything major tonight but was just thinking, which led me to one of those little moments of appreciation that’s nothing new but it’s nice when you’re reminded of the intrinsic value of the simplest things: language is truly an amazing thing.

The other day at the nursery, one or two of the other volunteers were talking about foreign languages – specifically German in this instance since Tanya has some kind of German ancestry and she was saying she never managed to get the hang of it in spite of her grandparents or whatever.

I thought what an idle waste of time any alternate language is in a country where so few people use them and though I didn’t state that to them of course, I did point-out that people spend their entire lives studying the intricacies and subtle nuances of English and still manage to find new ways of arranging words to more efficiently express their ideas well into old-age.

Language, most importantly, is the most direct interface to thoughts: while music is good for illiciting emotional reactions and visual arts are good for, well, nothing really but they look pretty, words are still the most accessible method of succinctly conveying complex thoughts, feelings or concepts so whether it’s fiction or non-fiction, news or educational words are GOD when it comes to to propagation of human knowledge from one person to another.

That expression of thought itself was poorly executed by all accounts, and though I could go back and edit it to be punchier not every paragraph needs to be meticulously constructed word-nerdery so I’ll leave it.

Just saying: language – English specifically – are universally available to everyone to both transmit and receive anything anyone can think – amazing.

Out are the Lights..

That’s the title of an excellent Richard Laymon novel incidentally, but as a quick update to anyone who’s known me long enough to read about my gradual decent into lunacy, AGL cut my electricity weeks ago and I’ve recently received an email informing me that the gas is scheduled for disconnection as well.

Far from giving a fuck, I’ve been more than happy powering the few electronic devices I care about with the many various Lithium-Ion battery packs I accumulated throughout my camping days and have not missed the power in the slightest. The only large appliances that cannot be powered with mobile power-banks are the fridge and TV – neither of which I need at all since I lived without a fridge just fine the first six months after moving in here and all I used the TV to watch was reruns of The Office and the other ABC2 comedy repeats each night, and who really needs that?

I can watch all the new shows with iview on my tablet that sounds incomparably better out my $350 Audio-Technica headphones anyway – since I always have plenty of data on my phone – and now I’ve discovered the endless ocean of podcasts online there’s no shortage of fresh, brand new shows and episodes to watch or listen to every night with only mobile devices that use very little power.

As for the impending gas disconnection that gnawed at me for approximately 15 seconds – the length of time it took me to realize I still had my hiking canister stove – and though I was mildly irked about the fact I don’t have any actual gas to screw into the sucker, that was all remedied yesterday with a visit to Big-W to price-check their camping stoves…

Vastly cheaper than the ultra-light hiking stove canisters, and a much more stable cooking surface for pots.

I abhor Big-W, but the visit proved very fruitful: not only was the stove itself only $20, a 4-pack of gas canisters to go with it were only $5.

Considering a large gas canister for my ultra-light hiking stove was $20 a year ago when I last bought one while the equivalent two cans of the Big-W gas costs $2.50, the gas alone practically pays for the stove to use them.

I’d wager the gas for this new stove is actually cheaper than the gas coming out your wall right now, but I *know* it’s a fraction of the other stove to operate.

So gas is sorted in spades.

Of course you might be thinking, that having to resort to a mobile stove of any kind is pretty sad but as far as I’m concerened, the fact I’m living alone with no woman, kids or pets means there’s nobody to bother trying to impress and that is the sad thing – not the kind of stove I’ve got.

Living alone sucks and I don’t plan on doing it indefinately but it allows you the freedom to truly not give a fuck about maintaining all the luxuries actual homes need to have which is a double-edged sword, I suppose, because I know that the longer I live alone however I like, the longer and more difficult the transition will be to living with a woman next time and I suppose if I lived alone for years I’d eventually be unable to adjust to living with other people at all.

The upside however is that living in the bush that whole time then being homeless that whole time, I learned to not give a monkeys fuck for comfort which leaves me quite happy to independently supply my own energy needs and as a result, well I won’t be running to any utility company begging to be reconnected because I’ve got stored, mobile electricty that’s completely free and plenty of gas to cook with so I truly don’t need to give a shit about AGL πŸ™‚

Like being off-grid in the middle of the suburbs it is, and I have to say – I rather like it: half-feral-in-a-tent, half-civilized-human-being.

Now to finish tonight’s iview binge – it’s getting late.. Flowers next. Strange show: darkly humourous and generally depressing, it’s really only the husband I find myself at odds with – always drooping around trying to hang himself and moaning like a bitch.

Oh, here was lunch today at the nursery, and these fresh/refrigerated soups from Coles and Woolies taste just like home-made soup..

Hearty beef and vegetable with barley of some kind. I love barley in any soup though: like puffy globules of rice, but, not rice.

Saturday, 20th July 2019

Where were we last night before I finished my catch-up binge and fell asleep..

Right – being off-gridwith no solar panels or house to put them on.

Actually, I’m filling the bathroom sink with hot water to wash socks and underwear, after which I’ll be doing another ‘load’ for tops and I’ll just not bother with pants – Tanya is washing all my blue, mud-caked pants when I take them in next week so I don’t even have to care about them for once.

Anyone wanna wash my duck-down jacket?

Bare in mind I love that jacket: hundreds of tiny chinese ducklings had their undercoat of feathers TORN from their little bodies for the comfort this jacket provides, and let me tell you, their suffering was worth it.

No volunteers? Tanya or Verity will give it the care it deserves, if nobody else will.

Hang on I’m busy doing stuff – that’s dinner and the Spam was 1/2 price so I couldn’t *not* grab several tins: I am right at home with the kind of food other people would turn their noses up at and all those things combined on a sandwich or roll are still a vast improvement over the camping diet I had years ago because now I’m close to town, I can actually have fresh onions and tomatoes and other things I’d never have bothered carrying out to my tent, and increasingly I’ve reverted to that exact diet – high calorie; fat; protein; carbohydrate and with multi-vitamins to suppliment the minerals those foods don’t have so combined with the battery packs for power and canister-stove cooking I’ve basically traded that dome tent down in the valley with a double-brick 2-bedroom unit that’s close enough to town for me to shop every day if I like – opposed to being stuck out in the bush with whatever I can carry out there.

I’m happy with this, for the time being πŸ™‚

Yeah time to slice and cook my spam and onions and pile it all into a hamburger/sandwichy thing: I’m hungry.

It’s very springy today with the sun and that smell in the air: you can smell the spring which is awesome – I’ll be able to dry clothes in a single day soon, instead of four!

Exceptionally good and largely because of the Spam, which saves it from tasting like just a greasy sausage sandwich you might have at any BBQ, to a much lighter grilled ham-steak creation because the spam itself doesn’t leak fat and oil like a sausage wound so it’s much less fatty πŸ˜›

Now I’ve gotta let my food settle – I had two of those one after the other so I’m about 1/4 the way to a food coma here. The onions got slightly burnt but I added about 1/4 teaspoon of brown sugar while before browning them so they were slightly sweetened to counter the salt of the cheese and spam. Caramelized the suckers.


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