New spamfiltering in place

Gah. That capcha wasn’t working very well (or at all) so I’ve instituted a different spamchecker, Spam Karma 2 which also involved a patch for a WordPress bug.

I also tried to install Subscribe To Comments 2 but it doesn’t play nice with PHP4.12 I guess.

As I write this, Dogtato has just been expelled into the backyard by Shane for peeing inside. (I call him Dogtato, Shane’s named him Capone, and his pedegree name is Sonny Bill. Other people have much ruder names for him, at least I can say it’s because his coat’s brown like a potato. I’m still looking for an opportunity to call Shane Mantato but I don’t think that’ll go down too well.)

Anyway, part of this process involved me clearing out the spam comments, and discovering people have been leaving me real comments. I had comments on WinNY, Mew, and Casual Projects. (Whom I enjoyed more than I seem to have said, but they’ve gone back down in my pile by being called Cas P, and apparently being hiphop.) Apparently I’m not supposed to prefer the lyrics of (early) Jewel to their lyrics. Or something. ^_^

On reflection, I might have marked them down a bit for having inaudible lyrics, but given my slight hardness of hearing for speech, my bar for lyrics is higher than usual.

Why am I harping so prosaic about Casual Projects? It’s nice to see a (non-anime) rabid fanboy (or girl), proving it’s not a phenomenon restricted to Japanese bishoujo/bishounen anime… And googling for ‘”casual projects” song lyrics’ returns me as the top hit, and I want to encourage anything that makes me the top google for something. ^_^

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Machine Gun Fellatio Redux

Well, just saw Machine Gun Fellatio again. They still rock.

Sadly, the ticket was $5 cheaper. This is only bad because I blame the price difference on the second-rate (that’s unfair) support acts, Casual Projects and Recipie. They were both rap-type artists (cf. Butterfingers in my last visit to the world of MGF). Casual Projects at least rapped about Australian things (barbecues for example, and trying to meet women while drink), while Recipie seemed to think they were African-Americans rapping about… I dunno some rubbish. At least by end of Recipie, I’d tuned out the… speakers… and could enjoy the trombone and saxaphone for what they were worth. Anyway, I felt the support acts were kinda like people who’d enjoyed Jewel’s music but said “If only her poetry was less meaningful, repeated the same line more often, and was shouted instead of sung” and take this as the basis to form a band. It’s Rabekah’s fault I’m thinking of Jewel, as on Wednesday night (when I was at her and Julia’s place, and alcohol was again involved) she started trying to play “Sensitive” and I had a brain fart and started singing “Hands”. Today in the car on the way to the ANU I spontaneoously remembered the words to “Sensitive”. And so I had Jewel in my mind. Blah.

I was thinking,
That I might fly today.
Just to disprove
All the things that you say.

It doesn’t take a talent to be mean,
Your words can crush things that are unseen.
So please be careful with me,
I’m sensitive and I want to stay that way.

Three good singers tonight. Sadly, they were all in MGF (Pinky Beecroft, KK Juggy and “Beyonce”). Happily, MGF produced a hell of a show. Unlike last time, I was down in the front area (“Mosh pit?”) and people kept pushing me from behind. Being a man of reasonable stature and excessive girth, this meant I started MGF’s set about five or six people from the front, and finished two from the front. I also finish covered in feathers. Yes, that was part of the act.

Surprisingly, we didn’t get KK Juggy doing nude cartwheels. She _was_ wearing some kind of skin-coloured bodysuit, and there were boobies visible during some parts of the show. I vaugely remember that the ANU (for it was their bar in which the show was held) banned KK Juggy from doing nude cartwheels on stage. Instead, Love Shark (guitarist) was in his briefs by the second song, and had removed them by the second-last song. (Turns out he’s well sized, but circumcised, incase any of my readers wanted to know)

If I could tell the world just one thing, it would be “We’re all OK”.
Not to worry, ’cause worry is wasteful and useless in times like these.

Anyway, we got good songs (“What the fuck do I care”, “My ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend’s got a band” etc.) and had a good time. I was also very drunk, and then proceeded to eat too much from Dolly’s food van in the car on the way home. And then I decided to scare my friends (Julia, Sean and Rabekah) by being rather more honest with them than they probably wanted. Hence this blog entry, which happily leaves out the stuff I can’t repeat in public. Or at least more than I have.

You took your coat off and stood in the rain,
You were always crazy like that
I watched from my window,
always felt I was outside looking in on you
You were always the mysterious one
with dark eyes and careless hair,
You were fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care

(Thanks to Foolish Games for verifying my recollection of “Hands” and “Sensitive” and supplying everything but the first line of “Foolish Games”. ^_^ And Lyrics and Quotes from “moulin rouge” for the actual text of the start to “El Tango De Roxanne”. That site also has the poetry reading in the Elephant Room. “You don’t have to stand. I mean… It’s sometimes… it’s quite long. I.. I’d like you to be comfortable.”^_^)

(For reference, the below is only representative of my general state of mind. I’m not actually upset over a prostitute. -_-;;;)

Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself.
It always ends BAD!
We have a dance in the brothels of Buenos Aires.
It tells the story of a prostitute and a man who falls in love with her.

First there is desire then, passion!
Then, suspicion!

Jealousy, anger, betrayal!

When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust.
Without trust, there is no love!

Jealousy… Yes, jealousy…
will drive you, …will drive you… mad!

Roxanne!…

Music Review: Machine Gun Fellatio brings people together

I went and saw Machine Gun Fellatio at Academy, supported by The Spazzys and Butterfingers, last night at Academy. It was my first time at Academy, and it’s a nice place. All shiny and new, and with large (3 meters) phalluses (phalli?) you can sit upon the base of. Drinks are pricey, but not as much as you’d expect. Shots are still $5, which was a pleasant surprise. On the one hand, the shot looked big and the glass was funky. On the other hand, the tequilla was awful. On the gripping hand, they were out of salt, and I was driving so I was basically sober at this point, so the tequilla experience was environmentally sub-optimal.

In the line out front, I had no sooner arrived than a friend of mine, Franco — whose name I hope is spelt like that, it’s been ten years –, from high school. We chatted for a bit, and as it turns out, he’s been working at a place where both a guy I used to work with and my ex-girlfriend worked for a time while he was there, and he also went to CIT with Shane, my current housemate/landlord, doing the same course in the same class. He’s also still in contact with Shane via another high school friend of ours, and so I will soon have his email, I hope. ^_^ Office romances in Canberra aren’t a bad thing, since if you have sex with anyone there’s a good chance they know someone you work with, for, over, or regularly meet for coffee/martial arts/video games.

Also, a guy who was a bouncer at the South Pacific Rugby Club is a bouncer at Academy now. I say was even though I haven’t been to SouthPac for a fair while, simply because he was _always_ at SouthPac when I was… I guess this adds fuel to my idea that SouthPac closed, but I really ought to look next time I’m out there.

I also ran into Marius, a guy who was in an Entrepreneur class with Phil last year.

Anyway, after the show, we went for a drive looking for The Doghouse, but I guess it’s gone.

Anyway, I prolly should write about the bands…

The Spazzys are an all-female two-guitar + drums combo. I quite enjoyed their music, lots of strong chords and beats, very little showing off (not that I mind, John Butler of John Butler Trio did some very impressive guitar showing off at a show a few months back) and basically some good classic rock. However, they didn’t seem to be getting along too well with the sound guy, and the lyrics of the songs were basically inaudible. Also, due to a poor seating choice by me, I didn’t get to _see_ much of them. I do hope to see more of them though, although possibly with earplugs next time. ^_^

Butterfingers were some kind of electric keyboard + drums and guitarist rock/rap group. I guess they weren’t bad, but I found myself tuning out during the set and not noticing whether the song had changed. It was during this set I realised you could stand on the base of the aforementioned giant phallus, and see over everyone’s heads. This was good, but puts your eyes right in the path of the lightbeam thingy as it does laps over the top of the crowd. >_< I guess these guys were a bit of a break between The Spazzys, and the main act of the night. Their set went a little overtime, I suspect, and didn’t finish until nearly 11pm.

Machine Gun Fellatio are legendary for their stage performances, and now I understand why. A glorious mixture of big-screen pornography, wild rock music, the natural showmanship of Pinky Beecroft, girls in the barest reference to clothing, a stunning second singer in some kind of tiger-print blouse and skirt (who was on the far side of the speakers from me for most of the night. >_<) and a drummer whose drum solo would have been a blur of hands even without the strobelights. It was simply a glorious display of raw entertainment and musical talent, and I’m incredibly glad I was both sober, and there rather than at home watching The Simpsons all evening. Which would have been a pain anyway, since Shane’s sleeping in the loungeroom while he paints his bedroom, and was home sick that day so would have been all grumpy. -_-;

Sadly, Franco left early and missed the nude female cartwheels.

Not dead, just boring

I was out on the golf course this morning, for an early round. I was lining up for the twelth hole, par 3. I had the driver out, when I heard from the bushes ‘Ribit. Three wood. Ribit’. I’m still not sure why, but I grabbed my Three wood and lined up my shot.

I got a hole in one. I couldn’t believe it. Wondering about my mysterious benefactor, I went in the direction I’d heard the voice from (some rough near the water trap) and found a frog sitting there.

As soon as I’m in sight, the frog says ‘Ribit! Casino. Ribit!’. Not being one to look a gift frog in the mouth, I grabbed the frog and wandered into the casino. As I walked in the door, the frog said ‘Ribit. Roulette. Ribit’.

When I got to the casino table, the frog said ‘Ribit. Sixteen. Ribit’. I took my last $100, and put it on 16. I couldn’t believe it when 16 spun up. The frog said ‘Ribit. 28. Ribit.’, and I again took its advice.

Again, the frog was right! I was so shocked by my winnings, it didn’t seem that strange when the frog said ‘Ribit. Hotel room. Ribit’. So I went and rented a hotel room, and took the frog upstairs. When we got there, the frog said ‘Ribit. Kiss me. Ribit’. So I did.

And that, your honour, is why there was a 15 year old naked girl in my hotel room.

No Internet connection makes TBBle something something

I’m sorry, due to my ADSL connection at home having spontaneously died, I’ve been unable to update the site.
So in the meantime, here’s a joke to pass the time: ^_^

A frog walks up to the inquries station of a bank branch, and asks about taking out a loan. He is directed to John Paddiwhack, the loan assessor.

Once seated at John’s desk, he says “I’m not a customer of this bank, but I’d like to take a $10 000 loan please”. John replies “I dunno, we don’t usually give loans to random frogs off the street.”

“I understand” replies the frog, “but I’m not just some random frog. My name’s Kermit Jagger, and I’m the son of Mick Jagger.”

“I’m not sure about this, but… well, we’d need some collateral. Being of a famous family, surely that’s not a problem?”

“Of course, I understand. I’ve got this,”, says Kermit, withdrawing a porcelin elephant from his pocket, “will it do?”

“Hmm. I think I’ll have to see the manager about this….” says John, looking a little flustered, picking up the porcelin elephant and heading to the manager’s office….

In the manager’s office: “Mr Williams, I’ve got this frog in my office. He claims to be Mick Jagger’s son, and wants to borrow $10 000 with barely anything as security. I mean, I asked him for collateral, but he gave me this… this… I don’t even know how to describe it…”

The bank manager replies, “It’s a knick-knack, Paddiwhack. Give the frog a loan. His old man’s a rolling stone.”