creative

According to a list I read some years ago, I regularly use several words in my lexicon that are considered 'old fashioned'. As that list was published nearly ten years ago and I'm still using most of those words, my language must be increasingly old fashioned.

Take a listen (or read) to a light hearted and 'cheesy' romantic (and slightly explicit) short story I recently wrote about Doug, who bored in his office cubicle, fantasies about Julie...

So I guess you'll just have to wait

Here's a quote/analogy I've been using for a while to overarchingly describe a strategy for engaging on social media that I've found helpful and descriptive.

When you feel like the odd one out, like a fish whose water's run out.

Isn't it funny how people's legs move in harmony with each other when they walk together,

An image man does what his image can

Let down the wall, try not to use a piano, you'll amaze yourself.

Tell me what the matter is, I really want to know.

- City life, don't you just love it

I'm dancing on the edge of normality, waggling my arse at the people inside and loving every minute.

Cate and I got a bus, the 160 that used to run from Catford to Sidcup, we got off the bus near where I used to live, on the south circular, which was near where it used to go, but slightly off route. We got off the bus and all the shops were exactly as I remembered, as we walked down the road (which was a major street for traffic) we came across a fruit orchard, trees of apples, plums, gooseberries and more, I kept trying to take photos of the fruit and Cate kept getting in the way saying 'stop that! Take a picture of me!î As we wandered through the forest we came across a normal looking house, although there was no indication of being so, we instantly knew it was a tourist attraction and went inside.

_Phone on table, centre stage. Phone rings._

Fancied damaged boy any box or coy Cox kiss lips as they lisp.

Megalomaniac had death at the press of a button, he'd declared war on the rest of the world and he wasn't backing down now. The world hadn't taken him seriously, hadn't met his demands, he'd have to show the world fear and harm.

Let down the wall, try not to use a piano, you'll amaze yourself.

_A poem written completely in predictive text_

When I was younger I did a lot of acting at school and at some youth drama groups, but that was nigh on 7 or 8 years ago...

Second interview with local zine dignitaries...

This week my column is something a little different, I've moved out of Indie Rock and it's a description of a demonstration of John Cage's Prepared Piano I saw during the Melbourne International Arts Festival, read it here.

He must works nights as I rarely see him, we've never spent a night together, just watching TV or anything like that, but he must have a set in his room, and a penchant for cheesy old horror films, because sometimes in the middle of the night I hear odd muffled shrieks and yells coming from his room.