Update, with Custard Pie Scene

News, well, not really. Work has been workful. I've become quite good at the half-truths, promises, and assurances that make up a Help Desk Person's stock-in-trade. I've been showing off my old Insprite cartoons to my workmates, to rave reviews and requests for more to be made. My shirt business has exploded; after making a pacman shirt for Craig and a quintet of "If Guy Doesn't Care, I Don't Care" shirts for various other people, I've been inundated with orders. Most noiseful has been one workmate who wants shirts for a friend's skateboard company, and his own tattooing company (like 100 at a pop) plus he wants to be the go between for all his friends in the tattooing and biker areas of the city (of twhich I'm happy to leave to him). He's also made noise about getting me to join up with some of his wife's friends who also do this (an idea I'm not happy about) and importing shirts from China (I get mine from Australia, as cheap as you could ask for). I'll belive it when I see it. Until then, I'm happy for him to plan like crazy. Then band is progressing well, though we've lost our original name of Poweranimal (as some other band signed to a label with that exact name) and have temporarily settled on Zombie Rhythm Section. We've got 10 sort-of songs put together, but with no lyrics yet (Sarah says Ted and I are machines. I was tempted to yell back "I'm not a droid!"). So yeah. progress. Tanja and I are planning a Hunter Valley trip in early December, and a move whenever we can find a decent place that will let us have Magrat.

Oh, yeah, and one more thing...

*is hit in face with custard pie by Harpo Marx-like figure*

Acquisitions. Again.

Hey look, ma! I got my eyebrow piercing back! I took it out for that awful interview for the Lindt Cafe (which I didn't even get) and in taking it out, damaged the D-ring I had in there. I went thinking I'd need to get it re-pierced, but the lady at Industrial Strength said "Nope, we just have to stretch it and put in the new ring." New ring cost me 25 bucks. Putting it in cost nothing. I was so happy at the price that I bought these:






Brothel Creeper shoes! Or technically, Brother Creeper sneakers. They had the proper shoes with the 2-inch foam soles, but they just didn't suit me. Tanja had her eye on a pair of 50s-style heels but decided they were just a bit too high for her. Oh well. Then after a lot of walking, I ducked into Fish Records and got this:





The new Beck album that's been banned on the UK charts. Bastards that they are. It's good. It's got the good elements of Guero, without the bogging down parts. Also, you get a sheet of stickers to make your own cover art. Snazzy.
Oh, also, last week, I got this:







Kiss Kiss Bang Bang! I had a dodgy burnt copy of this, but I liked it so much I wanted a copy with no skips and freeze-ups. Hooray for modern-noir-comedy!

Repent!

Well, it's happened. My hair is officially too long to easily spike. I have entered the Slick Hair time of the calender. And there was much wailing, and gnashing of teeth. Oh yea, oh yea, rama-lama-ding-dong.

And I learned a lesson this weekend at Tanja's birthday dinner. If you get BBQ Chili Quail from a Greek restaurant, it is extremely delicious, but it leaves you with a similar mess to getting buffalo wings from a dingy pub: messy fingers and mocking from others at the table.