WARNING LONG BLOG
A little while ago I posted a blog about accidentally finding sex parts in books at work. In the blog, Priscilla was like,

boysbeambitious on Aug 24 '09 at 11:09pm
hehe

I enjoy your writing very much by the way. Write me a book?

And i said i would. Then Kayce said:

kayceislost on Aug 24 '09 at 11:17pm
I also want a short story, please and thank you.

And then, naturally:


spacesick 2 on Aug 24 '09 at 11:34pm
I'd like a short story about a penis.

spacesick 2 on Aug 24 '09 at 11:34pm
but make the letters big.

spacesick 2 on Aug 24 '09 at 11:34pm
and good with their hands..

I'm making good on my promise despite the fact that my story-telling really is shit and I can't draw.

Priscilla's:


Intro/Disclaimer

As evidenced by all previous examples of my "writing", any story that I share is totes going to come from realilife. This is not because I don't have an imagination, just that I can't express imaginary situations with as much panache somehow. They always sound a lot more shit than they do in my head. Anyway, without further ado, I'd like to share this mini-novella, written especially for Priscilla Phitsanowesome, entitled "Penguins & Pornography: a completely unarousing adventure set in Sydney, Australia 2007". It has a ridiculously long setup and not much payoff, so I'll try make the setup have a bit of a payoff (doublecompounds) but nevertheless you should prepare yon self for slight dissatisfaction. Seriously, there's not even a real punchline.

The Set-Up.

For one glorious week in 2007, my school paid for me and a mate and a teacher to jet over to Sydney for the "International Youth Media Summit". This sounds quite important; in truth it was vaguely organised and full of unclear goals and promises that never eventuated. But still glorious, in other ways.

The main ringmaster of it all was some unshaven aging hippie who had grand ideals about how the world should be, but who also ran red lights with a bunch of youth in the van, played favourites with the kids he already knew and got drunk with them and supplied them with weed. Not like, big-time responsible, plus he more or less constantly forced his opinion on everyone. An arrogant washed-up arse, he was. Luckily us youth (all of us between 17-23 years old) were a mad cool bunch from all over the world, maybe 20 of us total, all well into film and making films.

We stayed way out in one of the semi-industrial suburbs of Sydders, near a bottleshop and a McD's, and had our base in the middle of the Olympic park. Every morning we would stop somewhere in the middle of the drive between the motel and the park, and wait in the vans while Hairy the Hopeless Hippie brought us freshly baked Iranian bread from his cousin's shop. This was probably his only redeeming feature.

Most days were spent out at Olympic park and surrounds, filming socially-responsible PSAs in groups of 3 + adult, and the evenings were split between unsupervised mayhem in the motel, and being driven around Sydney at night. We hassled dairy-owners in Bondi, on a brief trip round the beaches; we roamed around the Opera House in the darkness. However, the BIG MONDO DEAL was taking a whole day to go out and see the Three Sisters, these tall weird-looking rock formations out back of beyond. They're something of a tourist attraction; I'd actually seen them before, so wasn’t quite as excited as you’d expect. If you know Sydney, and the Three Sisters, you'll know it's a significant distance to drive out there, and as a result the van was filled with jokes and brainteasers as a means of distraction.

We had just enjoyed a reasonably lengthy brainteaser from one of the elders, about an evil wizard who turned the princess into a rose overnight then put her in a whole garden full of roses, then was like to the swarthy prince "bro betcha can't find her now" and the prince was like "she's right there" and the wizard was like "how did you know??" and the part that teases your brain is how did he know? My friend got it, it was that she was the only rose without overnight dew on her, and the Swedish dude was like "I was totally gonna say that but I didn't know the English word, what is it again?" and we were like "dew" and he's like "do?" and we're like "dew" and he's like "jew?" and we're like "dew".

At this stage, conversation petered out somewhat, and jokes were hence requested. I spied an opportunity to whip out one of the only jokes I really know, which is unfortunately a tad distasteful for some but not too bad* in the scheme of things.

The Joke (which has a pay-off, but is also part of the set-up) (you all probably heard this already) (I got it off a viral video with monkeys telling it)

There is a penguin, and he is having trouble with his car. He doesn't know what the hell is wrong with it - he's a penguin - so he takes it to a mechanic. The mechanic kinda scratches his head and says he'll have to take a poke around a bit to see what the matter is exactly, and advises the penguin to take a walk around the nearby shops to kill time. The penguin is like "Sweet as bro" and waddles off to the dairy to get an icecream. Being a penguin, he lacks opposable thumbs, and so eating the icecream is a bit of a challenge. He gets it all over his beak, super-messy like, but doesn't bother too much about it cos he's fairly chill. He goes to the playground and idly hangs on the swings for a while, then decides to head back and see how the mechanic is getting on. He walks back into the garage and the mechanic goes "Looks like you blew a seal". And the penguin goes "Nah that's just a little icecream".

This went down (heh) pretty well. One guy in particular, a Pom, whom I shall refer to as Bubo to protect his identity, was particularly impressed, and after he'd finished chuckling delightedly he vowed to put it on sickipedia, a wiki of sick jokes. To which I was like, "cool".

Over the course of the day, and also the next day, it transpires that Bubo kind of thinks he's the shit. He's a supremely nice guy, but in conversation tends to interrupt you to show off his endless knowledge on the topic. As part of his group's filming, he has to take his shirt off, which he relishes. He subsequently spends much of the time posing and flexing. Most of the chicks (and dudes) are like "lol scoff" but one girl kind of gets a bit like "whoa fella" and is obvious about it, which just serves to stroke his ego even more.

Anyway, it gets to be evening, maybe around 9:30, the day after the 3 sisters trip, and we are all once more running amok in the seedy ol' motor inn. The mate I flew over with, from my school, is staying in a room with Bubo and Bubo's mate. I head over to see what they're up to, and to ask if they wanna come drink/watch Monkey Dust, which the Swedish dude had on DVD, and was absolutely obsessed with. Approaching the door, I can hear the telly and all, so I knock politely and Bubo opens the door seconds later, looking sheepish. I'm like "Er, sup, is Romain around" and Bubo is like "Yeah, yeah yeah, come in come in" enthusiastically, then awkwardly goes to his bed and starts reading. Romain is sketching on a top bunk. I chat to him a bit, and Bubo, clearly uncomfortable, is like "Uh I'm gonna take a walk".

The instant he leaves, Romain gives me this sneaky look and goes "He was watching this softcore porn when you knocked." and I'm like "whut" and he's like, "I've never seen anyone leap off a bed so fast, it was like, jump up, turn off tv, open the door in one fluid movement." I'm all "he brought softcore porn to Australia?!?" and Romain goes "Nah nah...it was just on tv. Not a DVD or anything." I turn on the telly and, oh crap, yep, softcore pornography on free-to-air television before 10pm. I say "This has to be a joke". Romain: "Nah, it's been going for around 20 minutes". I watch in awe as an 80's-looking couple hump in slo-mo against some rocks on a windy beach, then again in a massage room. It's totally weird, not arousing in the slightest, and I'm like, "Was Bubo getting into this?". Romain says "His voice was excited, but I tried to avoid actually directly looking at him. Or at the porn." I'm all like "Shit" and turn it off.

We proceed to watch Monkey Dust (on a laptop), then me and one of the Swedes try to open a beer by slamming it against the desk in our room, and it explodes, then we all sit about chatting and listening to one of the dudes attempt reggae on a mini-guitar. Later we marvel at a Jerry Springer marathon, and the fact that the porn-lite is still going on the ther channel. I think back to Bubo and his ‘snapped!’ expression and it makes me grin bigtime. I slept really well that night; dreaming of windy beaches and penguins.







*what I consider too bad is the one some random wrote on my mate's facebook wall..."What's the difference between a jar of peanut butter and a dead baby? I don't stick my dick in a jar of peanut butter before I eat it" I mean seriously. That's vile.


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Kayce's:

Short Story for KC Sunshine

I have these acquaintances, friends of my ex. There’s a bunch of em, but they’re mostly interchangeable in terms of identity and personality. For this reason, I don’t know which friends of my ex, exactly, occur in this story, but there are three of them. I think one was probably Felix*, this selfish kinda fragile half-azn dude who knows how to C-walk and acts obnoxiously like a gangsta when drunk. The other might have been Beauregard*, a hairy dude with a staccato chuckle who seeks a soulmate through depressing/violent films and music. And the third, I’m reasonably certain, was Sylvius*, an angel-faced man-whore whose soul is 80% nicotine.

These guys were hanging out at someone’s house, let’s say Felix’s, when Sylvius announced that he needed more smokes and Beauregard rejoined that he probably was due for a V (energy drink), seeing as it was nearing 25 minutes since his last one. Thus the happy trio headed up the road (on foot; New Zealand is only about 1km square in area) to the dairy (“convenience store”). On the way, they discussed a concept/joke/thing that had been doing the rounds at that time - “It’s not rape if you shout surprise.” The ludicrousness of this well appealed to all three gentlemen, as they all possess intelligence, basic morals, and base humour. The perfect storm.

On the way back from the dairy, Sylvius started to lag behind, as he was having trouble rolling a fag and putting one foot in front of the other all at the same time. Felix and Beauregard strolled on ahead, chatting idly, until they realised their advantage on Sylvius and decided to exploit it. They settled behind a low wall and lay in wait for Sylvius, who was now quite some distance behind.

Time passed, until eventually the two tricksters heard footsteps. Without pause, they simultaneously leapt up, waggling their hands in a “scary” motion beside their faces, and shouted loudly, “RAAAAPE!!!” in a singsong tone.

The young mother screamed. The young father, pushing the pushchair (“stroller”) looked shocked, then stern. Mortified, Felix and Beauregard stuttered out a garbled apology - “We, uh, thoughtyouwerethisdudeweknow, uh, sorry” and sank back behind the wall to die of shame.

Sylvius was of course very tickled by this, and called it karma for a while, until he was wolf-whistled at from behind, by a dude who thought he was a chick.

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Spacesick's:

Help stop my brain atrophying. Last Sunday shift at work. Specify like a topic or a word or something and I'll write a rhyme about it. Alternatively, suggest worthwhile distractions

I will probably need one. What network is good and cheap? Will my SONY ERICSSON K610i (in "evening red") work on that network? Do I need a new mobular phone?


Roaming on my home network will cost me $3.85/min to make calls, $1 to receive calls, and 80c to send txts. Sounds pricey. that's in kiwi dollars though.

Did you ever have a sub that didn't quite make it to voting cos you got cold feet or got lazy or realised you couldn't get away from copyright issues? Can we see??

I have a few:









^That one was meant to turn into fireworks at night:




(sketch for horrorlol)

Siblingblog!

-Words
-Strawberries
-awesome parts of music

this list has the potential to be so much longer than my fired up list

Git your mind owt th' gutter









If I had a ffffound I'd be ffffounding the shit outta this kinda stuff

I'm looking for pear, it's important, it's about xbox, i need to talk to him, he's not on aim, blog timestamps tell me he was here 15 minutes ago, i'm also in bacontaco with the name lookinforpear, have i exhausted my possibilities here or what

Holy crap, she finally did it. I think I did a bit of a shit job actually. It's pretty broad and a bit patchy, divided into 5 by rough themes with lame titles:

A few classics popular on NZ radiose

Rock-type stuff

Really laid-back & slightly dub-type stuff

Mean-as female vocalists

Pop-rock hybrids what is often popular with the youth and also MOR radio

It's mostly well-known stuff. Nothing too obscure. Let me know if tracks don't work and feel free to hurl abuse if it's all shit and you hate it


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Blog v1.0

Uff oi mayde uh mux uf kuiwui hut sungles wud yew lisun tu thum?*



*Written in the NZ accent. If I made a mix of Kiwi it singles would you listen to them? I know our good Aussie mate squatterjohn made not one but six Oz mixes that were pretty cool, I don't purport to have as awesome compiling skills as he though. Youse keen eow?

Hi! I just tidied my room and am sitting in my pyjamas eating mince and pestotoast. Come hang out! We'll eat gummy babies and play handclap games and braid each others hair and playfight and give each other fake tattoos.

www.nicke.com