I reconsidered the use of anti-consumerist songs for Christmas soundtracks; I have decided it is a great idea, with much potential for mean-spirited playlists. It's coming along slowly, but I should have it all together by next Christmas. I just need to find that Shonen Knife song where they randomly name check every Christmas icon randomly for a few minutes.
Also, the man who made noodles has died. Poor students all over the world, a moment of silence please.
Speaking of which, it's an ugly scene trying to find a new place to live in Sydney. It's spoiled and petulant of me, but I'd really like to live alone.
I think it was the Arkansas sherriff that broke me for sharehouse living. It wasn't so much his constant lying about himself ("I'm a homicide detective/personal bodyguard/weapons instructor/skate prodigy/published novelist/well-adjusted human being" despite all the evidence to the contrary found through Google) or his constant lying to/about his flatmates ("I haven't used the toilet for six months/my flatmate punched a hole in the wall/my flatmate kicked a hole in my door") as much as it was the way he ate fried chicken without his false teeth. I could close my door and put my head under the pillow all I wanted, but that would never stop the wet, sucking grisliness of it all.
Never again. Even if it means paying a ridiciulous amount of money and not eating.
5 Comments:
Don't forget the heroic beating of strangers on the train! A personal favourite, "My flatmates came home at 2am and knocked down all the bikes outside our building and then spent the next hour yelling at each other."
Just think of all the stories you will miss out on by living alone. Aside from that, living alone rocks.
Monday, January 08, 2007 5:26:00 AM
How could I forget the beating of strangers? I also left out the ones about tricking black people, using the broadsword and having started a multimillion dollar company. Now that I think about it, perhaps I should also have mentioned his girlfriend that came to our house, crapped in the toilet without flushing, left her stained underwear on the bathroom floor and then complained we lived in an unclean way. Happy times. Living alone is the way forward.
Monday, January 08, 2007 7:14:00 AM
Man, that reminds me of living with Crazy Dave, who once asked me the question, 'What do you think would be the best country to go to if you were going to live in a car?'; constantly walked around the house with his very large headphonese on, that weren't actually plugged in to anything and; embarked on a cross-country trip from Tokyo to Kyoto, on foot, where he collapsed in a 7-eleven on the first day, was chekced into hospital, checked himself out, made his way back home to Shizuoka, went missing, was found sitting on a bed in bed cross legged in a local hospital, and then went insane.
Monday, January 08, 2007 9:26:00 AM
Let's never forget Crazy Dave's insistence on using an untuned guitar to play, to make sure his sounds weren't quite like anyone else's. I also liked the time he got lost between the apartment and the convenience store fifty metres away.
Monday, January 08, 2007 10:07:00 AM
hey you. i replied to your comment at The Other Place, but as you aren't signed up there, you'll never get notified...
Once the Living Alone gene has been activated there's no turning back. And my last flatmates were Super Lovely. Even their partners were only vagely annoying.
fuscbo x
Monday, January 08, 2007 8:25:00 PM
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