bluefire...

BlueFire Churrascaria, Level 3, Melbourne Central. Let the lack of pictures convey the experience. Alternatively, read this.









Quote Super Tuesday on Tuesdays to receive 50% off on the Churrascaria or the a la carte menu. Only on Tuesdays!

dandenong ranges 3...

Barelling down the Dandenong Tourist Road in the Beast at a speed too high for any effective steady hand photography but much too slow for a V6 engine.

cry not...

And one fear put to sleep. At least for now.

dandenong ranges 2...

The Canadian Pancake breakfast at Flippin' Pancakes in Sassafras on the Dandenong Tourist Road.

dandenong ranges...

Grounds of the dam in the Dandenong Ranges.

if...

... I need you more than you need me, what does that make me?

throwing bones...

For no apparent reason, I'm already sick of university. I do not comprehend it at all. Monash is a pretty relaxing place. Quite comfortable and all, what with the campus-wide internet connection (sort of), and the multiple food places, and a few nice napping spots and plenty of greenery and lots of curious things (like the Boob Lawn). Lectures aren't that bad. If anything, only one or two fascinating-as-potatoes-grow lecturers, and the occasional senseless assignment. Nothing I can't handle, and nothing I haven't come up against.

I think I'm just pretty sick of the pointlessness of it all. What happens AFTER uni? In fact, what's the whole doodad during that long tenure have to do with after? And then, what of it?

Right now, all that morbid musing about dropping out of uni and becoming a rent boy has to be put on the back burners. Plans for an uprooting and planting of the motherplant are in the pipeline. I think. Lots of things to figure out and lots of things to sort.

One of the most infuriating things is when people find it amusing imagining you in any sort of sexual/romantic situation. I mean, is it really all that funny considering that I may have some sort of sexual proclivities? Yes, yes. That big fat guy having any sort of sexual urges must be amusing indeed. Very funny. Har har har. It must be hilarious indeed even placing a possibility that I am anything more exciting than a rock. Just because I'm fugly as Michael Jackson's nose doesn't mean I have no needs you know. Even non-existant appendages of fallen culture icons have feelings you know. The dead kind.

If I really was all that asexual, at least half my current considerations could be junked. Half of them are too complex to discuss, and the people they concern are exactly the ones who are best not knowing, and they would most likely not want to know at any rate. All this, and an ongoing cocoa overdose has been driving mental images not unlike hentai with the pixels on. Intriguing, but frustratingly obscure.

I did think of going to the student health psychiatrist the other day. Then I did a double paracetamol and vitamin C infusion with 5 grams of peppermint cream chocolate.