Some of “the crazy” is good for the sanity

First things first, apologies for the weakness and general stinkiness of the last entry. Apart from the picture of Arnie (whom I have to say is pretty compelling in a sort of oddly strange way, despite my heterosexual disposition), the entry was lacking substance. I liken it to the contents of a bucket in a Shawshank-esque solitary confinement cell following befoulment by an Indian sumo wrestler. To say it was not easy to swallow would be understating the stanky factor. But there is always room for improvement when rounding the hornberg.

So with this optimistic sentiment in mind, I will move on to a topic very close to my heart: Jon Bon Jovi songs getting stuck in my head. It is really only ever “Living on a Prayer”, or the titular lyrics from “Blaze of Glory”. But this can be maddening. Don t get me wrong, everyone likes a little bit of Bon Jovi. Everyone with rocks in their head and some kind of drunken donkey playing a wheelie bin as an alternative choice of “music”. So with this clear opinion of Jon Bon Jovi’s music stated I thank my friend who, admittedly inadvertedly, began a downward spiral of ooooooooooohhhhhh we’re half way there…… racing through my brain.

I dislike the idea of a lobotomy so I could see only a few possible methods of defeating this demon. The first two involved vast quantities of beer and travel to far away coastal locations populated by naked or soon to be naked women. My happy place had to be over looked for now as I did not have the time, funds or soon to be naked women at this point. I was at work at the time so masturbation was a risky option I did not want to seriously consider. I searched for more viable methods. Beating something or someone smaller and weaker then me with a blunt object was looming as a really satisfying distraction, but like lobotomies I dislike the idea of forceful anal penetration and the loss of liberty. With all mind altering, violent and sexual forms of release discounted I turned to fighting fire with fire> I turned to you-tube and a hard session of back to back Tool film clips. They are crazier then a chick bogan at the tail end of a Melbourne Cup binge fighting her peers for the last cheeseburger at Maccas. Tool did the trick and distracted me and I said good bye to Job Bon Jovi. Until next time anyway.

But this got me to thinking to things like Britney Spears, George W Bush, Russians, extinction, Bjork, trannies and the plethora of unreasonably absurd and weird things that people seem to be preoccupied with and fascinated by. Everyday "normal" people even sometimes go as far as to act in these abnormal ways themselves. People divert from the norm all the time in order to satisfy something, to feel good, to be complete, to function within bounds they deem to be fulfilling. Mediocrity just does not cut it for a lot of people. In order to maintain some type of sanity, it seems people need injections of insanity. Booze, drugs, art, music, extreme sports; something heightened. Maybe the violence I can understand. But none of this really makes sense if you think about it. Why is not eating, sleeping, working, breeding (repeat until dead) good enough? Don’t get me started on religion. I don’t know the answers to these questions, feel free to answer the question if you like. Some part of me wants to accept 42 as the answer but I need something with more. Something more exciting.




Recently I enjoyed a nice little nighty night out to a jazz club. I would say that the average age was around 65. As me and some esteemed colleagues entered the establishment the aura of our youth hung around us like an exotic and widely sought after cologne. Envious old eyes looked us up and down and hungered for something they knew they would never have again. Never. A more romantic notion might be that they simply saw young people enjoying jazz in cultured surrounds and felt the life surge within themselves in the company of such vigorous youth. Nah, they wanted young ass. I am well aware I will one day feel the sting as they did so I”ll choose to look on the bright side.

One of said geriatrics was a trannvestite. An ugly old man dressed as an ugly old woman with bad dress sense. She/him/it was having a dance and a jolly good old timey wimey. I could not help but wonder at the motivations behind such an obviously abnormal act. I really have nothing against it, apart from aforementioned fears of forceful anal penetration. Anyone can do things I do not subscribe to or understand as long as no ones get hurt. I m speaking of mere curiosity and a drive to attempt to understand. Maybe their act of supposed insanity helps them feel sane, or perhaps it is sane for them.

So, readers, from Jon Bon Jovi annoying the fuck out of me I have very neatly and elegantly segued to forceful anal penetration and trannies.

Thanks for coming.