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Thursday, April 28, 2005
I was going through some of my parents' junk the other day, and I came across a collection of their old badges from various points in their starry-eyed leftie days (now they're just old, jaded lefties who sit around moaning about how fucked the world is... without using the word "fuck", of course. My mother still exclaims, "Uh-mahhh!" when she hears such profanities. Violent clashes with police during the Springbok protests in '71? Great. Four-letter words? EVIL). Anyway, they're actually kind of interesting... in a historical way, so I figured I'd share a few of them. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
Thursday, April 21, 2005
I'm going to geek out for a bit here, so if that's not your thing, ignore this post... So you're all using Firefox now, right? RIGHT? Hey, I don't care that much about all that open-source shit, either (uh, sorry programming geeks, I'm sure it's important and stuff, but... meh), but it's just a much better browser. My favourite part is that there are heaps of really good extensions for it. Maybe IE has extensions too, I don't know or care, but some of the Firefox ones are pretty nifty. I didn't even know about them till I read this article on .net Magazine many months ago, in which they list their favourite extensions. Anyway, I thought I'd share mine:
I use plenty of other extensions, but those 6 are the ones that make me smile and go "Man, that's cool" every time I use them. Why don't you share your favourites with the class?
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Alrighty, time to put you kids out of your misery and announce the winner of my Three-Second Musical Challenge. Things got off to a slow start initially, which annoyed me, because I'd put a bit of effort into making this one easier and better than the first. Fortunately after a few days, entries started coming in, and I was not at all disappointed with the response. So, without further bullshit, the winner is... Funkwit Paul...aaand apparently a few of his workmates. When their powers combined, they identified thirteen* correct songs. Go Planet! I guess some would call it cheating, but I think it was quite clever and resourceful. The rules never stated that you can't team up with other people. In fact, there are no rules. I also would've accepted bribes, though no one was that ambitious. Other high scorers were Supermercado Adam with nine and Flashman with six. For his efforts, Paul (and I guess his workmates, if they want one too) wins a mix CD and a bunch of other stuff that I haven't thought of yet, but rest assured it will be awesome and you should all be very jealous. Well, not that jealous, because as usual, I'm more than happy to send anyone else a mix CD too. All you have to do is email me your mailing address and your SOUL. Anyway, the songs were:
For the record, no one got numbers 3, 8, 9, or 17. Shame on you all. *This was originally twelve, as Paul et al. identified number 2 as "No Room to Bleed" by Ben Lee. But after
Monday, April 18, 2005
Ok, the winner of my Three-Second Musical Challenge will be announced on Wednesday, so you only have one more day to rack your brains or ask your more musically-knowledgeable friends for the answers. There will be prizes galore.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Remember "Chris"? The psycho freak I went to High School with that we all hoped would come good in the end? Well, I did a bit of research (and by "research" I mean that someone just happened to tell me what he was doing) and it seems like things are looking up for him. Turns out that Chris failed year 10, so he quit school to study music at TAFE. Now I know you're going, "Uhm, but isn't that BAD?" but it really isn't. The main problem Chris had was that he was at school. Our school was a particularly bogan one, but he was the kind of kid who would have been teased mercilessly at any school. On top of that, he wasn't particularly academic and even if he'd finished year 12, I suspect he would've ended up at TAFE anyway, just more fucked up from 2 or 3 extra years of bullying. The only thing that ever seemed to make the poor kid happy was music, so good on him for making a positive change to his life. Most people are still forming their identity at 16, so hopefully he can put all the shit of high school behind him and still become a relatively OK person. Now all he needs to do is shave the bum-fluff moustache, grow up a little bit (well... a lot. He was never very mature), and stop wearing tracksuit pants, and Chris may live out our dream of being cool after all.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Here's a bunch of things that are interesting*:
* Probably
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
I have nothing to write about, so I think it's time for another... Ruth's Three-Second Musical Challenge For those who don't remember how this works - I have taken the first three (3) seconds of twenty songs and recorded them onto one track and you must identify as many as you can. Exciting. I learned a few things last time, and have thus made a few changes. Firstly, I discovered that people are stupid, so to make things easier, there was no randomness in my song selection. It is MUCH easier this time, and I'm confident that most people can get at least a couple. Secondly, last time the songs were accused of being too "cool" or something, so there are several very uncool songs in this one. I have tried to get a good mix of old and new, and Australian and International (in fact, there are more Australian ones. Sorry overseas readers, though you can probably get most of those too). The audio track is here (right click and "save as"). Email me at "lineofcontempt AT gmail DOT com" with as many as you can identify. The prize will probably be a mix CD or something, but maybe something even cooler. It depends how many the winner gets right. Oh, and DON'T post the answers in the comments section, fuckwits.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Here's a bit of an ethical dilemma for you: I was sitting on everyone's favourite tram, the 86, in the late afternoon/early evening today, when a group of barely-clothed, shrill-voiced girls of about 15 or 16 got on. You know the type I mean - tenuous grasp of the English language, make-up applied with a trowel, and skirts so short you can almost see their Playboy g-strings poking out... at both ends. I was hungry, tired, and I'd just endured a whole hour at uni, so if there was one thing I wasn't in the mood for, it was being surrounded by skanky teenagers shrieking, "AW MAH GAWD" and discussing who they were going to pash-on with at underage Metro or wherever they were going so early in the evening. Anyway, after they succeeded in giving me a headache from their relentless squawking and the combined aroma of their cheap perfumes, I noticed a few of them were drinking from bottles hidden in bags... or at least they would have been hidden if they weren't clear plastic bags, which really only served in drawing more attention to the Vodka Cruisers and Smirnoff Ice Reds contained inside. "Aw mah gawd, is that ya forf?" The token fat one asked her Kmart-jewellery-wearing, stick insect friend, "Save some fuh me!" So here is the thing - they were drinking underage AND doing it on public transport. I wouldn't normally give a fuck, but they were pissing me off. I knew from their loud conversations that they were going to the city and would thus be on the tram for quite a bit longer, and I really wanted to call the cops and pay the little slappers back for annoying me. Public transport makes me a bit irrational like that. Now on one hand, I didn't want to be a narc. I did a lot of underage drinking in my time, and I know it usually relies on the discretion and support of legal adults, whether they be dodgy bottle-o staff, older siblings, irresponsible parents, or members of the community turning a blind eye. But on the other hand, even as a dickhead 16 year-old, I knew that if you want to get away with it, you have to keep your head down, not piss anyone off, and be fucking grateful that people are letting you get away with it. Because everyone hates teenagers, and I say this as a teenager. I hate myself for the lame teenage things I do and say a lot of the time. Underage drinking is a privilege, not a right, and these girls were taking it for granted. Mainly, though, they were just shitting me. I'd probably tolerate that shit on a tram on a Friday night, but 5:30pm on a Wednesday? Pushing your luck. In the end, I didn't call the cops, but I came oh so close. The looks on their spray-on-tan-blotched faces as I loudly explained the situation into my mobile would have been priceless, but I realised that 16 year-old me would have been disgusted with present-day me for doing it. Of course, 16 year-old me was a self-righteous little tard, so hummm... I don't know what the right thing to do was. What do you think? Should I have dobbed the little moles in, if only to scare them with the call, or left them alone to have a little bit of fun in their otherwise insipid lives?
Monday, April 04, 2005
I hate paying reasonable prices for things, so I spent the last six days in Sydney. It was totally fun, but I can't really be bothered writing about it (plus it'd be like those boring travel emails people send you when they're on holidays - "and then we saw an old building, and then we went on a bus, and then we went to the hotel, and then we zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"), so I figured that I'd draw (badly) some things that I saw there in the... Illustrated Adventures of Ruth Sydney Edition ![]() ![]() Huge, massive, gigantic apologies to Darp, Kartar, Sam, and Ms Hairy Legs for the pictures. For the record, they're all very hot in real life, but I am very shit at drawing.
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