Just remember... you asked for this.

Well folks,

Now that the pain in my head has relented somewhat and given the fact that I was somewhat touched by people demanding that I update this miserable personal journal of mishap and malcontent, well I've decided to concede to a request I dismissed earlier and do this 20 things about me junk. Facts about Angry as Bastard in no particular order of importance or relevance.

1. Between the ages of 14 and 21 I was single for a total of just over 6 months. Now in my mid twenties I often regret this and wish that I had kissed a lot more people at a lot more drunken teenage parties.

2. When I am in a relationship, especially one that is going well (and my current one is going sensationally well) I spend a lot of time thinking about how happy this person makes me and how extraordinarily fucked up I will be if it ends. To fight this terror I conceive very elaborate plans how I will eject from my current life and start a whole new one if things go bad. My current plan is to move to Canberra and become an ASIO agent. I looked into where I could take Arabic classes and checked out the ASIO website but then got paranoid that I was going to be monitored because I had been to the website.

3. Sometimes at night I still fantasize that my bed is some sort of spaceship or futuristic vehicle. This has only gotten worse since I moved out and bought an enormous sleigh bed that looks like something pimps would have used at the turn of the century.

4. I'm scared of midgets. I realise this view is not PC but I'm not saying I dislike people of short stature its just a completely unjustified phobia so don't fucking judge me.

5. When I was about eight I was at a country dance at Phillip Island and I went outside to get some air and I saw this guy lifting up this women's dress and start performing oral sex on her and then they were in position to start fucking when the women noticed me. The guy asked me if I wanted to watch but I said "No thank-you" and ran away.

6. I have a passionate hatred for parties at which everyone breaks out guitars and starts playing and singing. I used to dislike it because I felt left out because I couldn't play an instrument but as I got more confident in the things I could do I started to think it was just really fucking rude. I don't turn up to parties and start shooting film or start giving long spiels about contemporary theory and practice in attracting audiences to arts venues using new tools in market segmentation because no one wants to hear. Same goes for you with the guitar fucko.

7. I really don’t like people I don’t know very well being in my house and I think this feeling is only getting worse as I get older. I imagine this will manifest itself in some interesting way now I have a housemate.

8. For a long time while I was at University I got concerned I had never been “bi-curious” as they say in those sad local paper personals as it seemed that all my friends were coming to me with confessions of forbidden boy on boy inklings. I thought the fact that I had never had slightest inkling of a vague hazy interest in another gent made either really sexually conservative or sub consciously homophobic or both. I’m not sure where this worry came from and I’m not sure were it went but for a couple of years it genuinely concerned me.

9. I knew the physical love of another before I knew the physical love of the self. I’ve mentioned this fact a couple of times over a few baudy beers with the lads with some degree of pride but the truth of the matter is that honestly I believed you needed someone else there to ‘make it work’. I really didn’t understand that it was a pastime that one could enjoy alone.

10. I once had what a psychologist would later describe as a psychotic episode at a tool gig at which the waves of light and sound made me loss any sense of myself as a separate entity (no drugs or alcohol where involved in this event). I felt that I was in every person and every inch of the auditorium. When I came back into myself the feeling was physically jarring to the point that I went into the toilets and was violently sick. An amusing footnote to this anecdote is that I had to buy an overpriced tour T-shirt that I had ridiculed so savagely on my way in to the gig to replace my own vomit encrusted one.


I think 10 is enough to start with. I shall post the next instalment of me in the coming days.