Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
laaast night
Last night Hannah came over to the flat. It was a fairly quite night: a bottle of wine each and Chinese takeout for dinner. It was a night of Radiohead and chocolate and kent cigarettes and drinking on the floor of my room. Just like Huia... good times.
Would you believe that you can fit half a bottle of wine in one of these comically large glasses?
Would you believe that you can fit half a bottle of wine in one of these comically large glasses?
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Happy Birthday Foofie
If you have ever done this, or had any association with anyone who has ever done this, I will never speak to you ever.
I DO NOT want to hear already terrible songs blasted obnoxiously from your goddam cell-phone.
I won't do anything about it when I'm on the bus, but I WILL complain about it on the internet: FEEL MY CYBER-WRATH!
I DO NOT want to hear already terrible songs blasted obnoxiously from your goddam cell-phone.
I won't do anything about it when I'm on the bus, but I WILL complain about it on the internet: FEEL MY CYBER-WRATH!
QOTSA!
There is a deep well of comics that include a pun and a crude illustration of a woman's nethers. This well, fortunately for the discerning reader, never runs dry.
I hope you are thirsty.
Poon just rhymes with so many other words!
I hope you are thirsty.
Poon just rhymes with so many other words!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Classic CALH 2011
Comics from Camp A Low Hum 2011. Just a small window into the goodness of four days little sleep and little sobriety and constant music-times.
Transcriptions of Organ Music: I Love you.
Transcriptions of Organ Music: I Love you.
alien nation
Back into it.
I won't lie, I did get rather mashed last night, then hashed.
I feel a little gloopy. The Zoro mask I had face-painted onto my face ended up on my white shirt... Fucking house-warming...
I feel a little gloopy. The Zoro mask I had face-painted onto my face ended up on my white shirt... Fucking house-warming...
Saturday, March 12, 2011
I knoew
It's a stupid time in the morning, but you did the right thing.
If you are also enjoying the 3:40 in the morning, then you too should be aware of the cold apathy that one feels along with the intense lust for instant soup.
Above are some photographs I took last year, but that is not the real reason for this post: this post is really an excuse for me to complain to those who read this toilet of silly rambling nothings.
Still haven't got that camera cable to upload real things.
I went to Elam today to get some shit done. I told Hannah to come over, and when she came we had a smoke on the benches outside. Eventually we ended up drinking in a big way. I didn't really expect much else. To be honest, I can't actually remember a time when Hannah and I met up and we didn't end up parting ways in the horrors. Fuck.
Anyway, We agreed to go home early enough tonight. About eleven .
I met this big Samoan guy at the bus stop and we had a hilarious conversation about absolute rubbish; we must have smoked at least this many cigarettes between us. Anyway. We ended up drinking in a car-park and lunging through a pack of pall malls, I let him call someone on my phone (a free 100 minutes of calling time on my 021 because of the earthquake). He said he couldn't get reception so he went round the corner.
Round the mother fucking corner; more like take my phone and make me completely lose my faith in humanity.
To be honest, the only reason I agreed to accompany him was because he said he was a bouncer at a bar and that he had a super-mad bar-tab that he needed to blow in one night. I thought I would boil my young-blood and let him buy me a million drinks!
how wrong was I!
Shit son.
ANYWAY, no matter how much you wish this post to be over, I still haven't go to the point of this post so listen.
I eventually caught the late bus home and staggered back into the mercifully empty flat: hating humanity for shitting on the one chance I gave it to be willing to let something in.
I felt a bit shit so I thought it would be best to get the worst out of me, but I can't remember ever eating anything blood-coloured...
It worries me that every sip of shitty instant miso that I take hurts my entire digestive system. I love instant miso even though it smells like estuary.
It shouldn't have been blood coloured. Nor should my trachea hurt so much.
Upity better than everyone super skanks: I love you.
If you are also enjoying the 3:40 in the morning, then you too should be aware of the cold apathy that one feels along with the intense lust for instant soup.
Above are some photographs I took last year, but that is not the real reason for this post: this post is really an excuse for me to complain to those who read this toilet of silly rambling nothings.
Still haven't got that camera cable to upload real things.
I went to Elam today to get some shit done. I told Hannah to come over, and when she came we had a smoke on the benches outside. Eventually we ended up drinking in a big way. I didn't really expect much else. To be honest, I can't actually remember a time when Hannah and I met up and we didn't end up parting ways in the horrors. Fuck.
Anyway, We agreed to go home early enough tonight. About eleven .
I met this big Samoan guy at the bus stop and we had a hilarious conversation about absolute rubbish; we must have smoked at least this many cigarettes between us. Anyway. We ended up drinking in a car-park and lunging through a pack of pall malls, I let him call someone on my phone (a free 100 minutes of calling time on my 021 because of the earthquake). He said he couldn't get reception so he went round the corner.
Round the mother fucking corner; more like take my phone and make me completely lose my faith in humanity.
To be honest, the only reason I agreed to accompany him was because he said he was a bouncer at a bar and that he had a super-mad bar-tab that he needed to blow in one night. I thought I would boil my young-blood and let him buy me a million drinks!
how wrong was I!
Shit son.
ANYWAY, no matter how much you wish this post to be over, I still haven't go to the point of this post so listen.
I eventually caught the late bus home and staggered back into the mercifully empty flat: hating humanity for shitting on the one chance I gave it to be willing to let something in.
I felt a bit shit so I thought it would be best to get the worst out of me, but I can't remember ever eating anything blood-coloured...
It worries me that every sip of shitty instant miso that I take hurts my entire digestive system. I love instant miso even though it smells like estuary.
It shouldn't have been blood coloured. Nor should my trachea hurt so much.
Upity better than everyone super skanks: I love you.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
comedy gold
I am back in Auckland.
Goddam right you know what that means: isolation, sadness, mindless self-destruction and more comics.
My brother bought me a new camera, but alas the selfish bastards at Sony in their ploy to monopolise the world of electronics (that's right! you thought Apple? YOU THOUGHT WRONG) made their own special memory card that you need a special Sony reader for. I don't own one of these Sony card readers therefore I can't upload the comedy gold which is currently on my camera. Don't blame me, blame fucking Sony.
I'm not sure how much comi-quality I can guarantee though. Hannah told me yesterday that I wasn't miserable enough to write comics. Bitch gon' be proven wrong. I will have nought else to do save be miserable and draw comics considering I spent at least 150 dollars on booze and cigarettes last night.
Fuck you Hannah.
Instead of a comic, I give you the hilarious photo above. How much juxtaposition can there be in one photo? A Lot!
Sitting in the shade, surrounded by wine, quietly gritting my teeth as I eat my bleeding rare steak. It's the good life. Those two kids don't even know.
I'm sorry for deserting everyone in Christchurch. I felt bad about leaving the day after "The Great Earthquake".
Goddam right you know what that means: isolation, sadness, mindless self-destruction and more comics.
My brother bought me a new camera, but alas the selfish bastards at Sony in their ploy to monopolise the world of electronics (that's right! you thought Apple? YOU THOUGHT WRONG) made their own special memory card that you need a special Sony reader for. I don't own one of these Sony card readers therefore I can't upload the comedy gold which is currently on my camera. Don't blame me, blame fucking Sony.
I'm not sure how much comi-quality I can guarantee though. Hannah told me yesterday that I wasn't miserable enough to write comics. Bitch gon' be proven wrong. I will have nought else to do save be miserable and draw comics considering I spent at least 150 dollars on booze and cigarettes last night.
Fuck you Hannah.
Instead of a comic, I give you the hilarious photo above. How much juxtaposition can there be in one photo? A Lot!
Sitting in the shade, surrounded by wine, quietly gritting my teeth as I eat my bleeding rare steak. It's the good life. Those two kids don't even know.
I'm sorry for deserting everyone in Christchurch. I felt bad about leaving the day after "The Great Earthquake".
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