I'm not going to post the stories of my travels here anymore. Now that I have my computer and some time on my hands, all the stories will be compiled with interactive maps (maybe) and photos on it's own website. When I work out how to do that. I'll let you know.

Just been watching a few movies on this lazy Sunday. One of them was 300, which I have been meaning to get my hands on since I was in Granada. Violent battle scenes were excellent, but slow mo was a little over-used. Fight choreography when the Captain's son and his friend are fighting together was fucking awesome. End credits were some of the best I've ever seen. Soundtrack by Tyler Bates wasn't bad either. Dialogue and performaces were a little weak.

I was just starting to watch Spiderman 3, when the opening credits spawned the thought which prompted this impromptu post. It's something I recall seeing in a lot of sequels' opening credits. The title of the film appears - SPIDERMAN - then pause........ zoom! the number 3 appears in frame below it. Are we supposed to be tricked into thinking it's Spiderman 1, then chuckle self-consciously at our ill-conceived assumptions?

Seems strange to me.

I bought a 2001 Duke II 640 in Panama City a few weeks back, and now I`m riding it to Canada. Thought you guys might like to know about it...



After nearly 1000km`s of riding, I`m in Costa Rica at last. Left Panama city on Thursday afternoon and made it to Patti`s house in Parita in very good time. Found a cop car doing around 150kph the whole way, so I tucked in behind him and sliced nearly an hour off the trip.

Left at 7am Friday for what would be one of the longest and arduous days of my life. 50km out of Santiago, the fog was so thick that i hit a pot-hole and busted up my rear tyre pretty good. With another 120km to David, I was pretty much in the middle of nowhere with nothing I could do for myself.

[IMG]http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s319/stolen_pictures/Imagen002.jpg[/IMG]

[IMG]http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s319/stolen_pictures/Imagen003.jpg[/IMG]

Flagged down a couple of utes, but their trays were all too small to carry the Duke, but 2 hours and a bit of sunburn later, I stopped a tow-truck towing a truck wreck. The lads and I managed to haul the duke on the back of the wreck and tied it down dodgily with my security cable. You can see it in this photo...

[IMG]http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s319/stolen_pictures/Imagen004.jpg[/IMG]

They dropped me off about 50kms later at a mechanic`s shop on the roadside, next to a pub in the middle of nowhere. Beers in hand, the toothless mechanic and I fixed the flat and I was off again.

Everything was goin great until I came across a bushfire roaring across the road. Stopped for a bit and took some photos, but it didn`t look like it was letting up any time soon so I held my breath and made a run for it. The fire turned out to be a lot worse than it looked, and it was nearly two minutes before I could see and breath properly again. Below is a before/after of a truck heading through.

[IMG]http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s319/stolen_pictures/Imagen005.jpg[/IMG]

[IMG]http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s319/stolen_pictures/Imagen006.jpg[/IMG]

After that, though - smooth sailing all the way to the border. Somewhere along the way my license plate broke off, but big shout-outs go to Moncho because somehow I still had enough papers and legal crap to cover my arse and get into Costa Rica without hassle.

I`d been warned by many people about something called the Mountain of Death (i think?) on the way to San Jose. Apparently at night and in the morning, the fog is so thick you can`t see more than a few metres in front of you. Never one to believe the hype, I gave it a shot. Without the unplanned set-backs I would have been fine and passed through there in broad daylight, but it was around 7pm when I encountered the DEATH FOG. It really was pretty bad - i ran off the road once, and nearly got hit by a truck - scary ...., but I made it out alive.

Had a bit of a street race with an R6 and finally checked into Tranquilo backpackers at around 10pm. Just now waiting on the pancakes to be made, then I gotta find a motorbike shop to get a new rear tyre. But not after fully shredding the old one with some early morning burnouts :)

That`s all for now. More as it happens.
Glen.

My new friend is a spider. Discarding political correctness, i've been calling it a 'he.' He's been in my life for about two weeks now. When I'm out during the day, he sits on my bedroom door, so I can say hello to him on my way in. My nightly routine is usually something like: get home at 7, eat dinner, turn on computer & start playing music, boxing training, then shower. By the time I get to the shower part, this spider has moved to the bathroom, and taken up roost behind my towel on the towel rack. So when I go to dry myself, I have to be careful as to not harm spider friend when I yank my towel down.

This little routine happens 80% of nights that I come home. And I'm not pulling anyone's leg, it's bloody strange. There was one night that I skipped the music/training part, and went straight to the shower after dinner. The spider obviously wasn't ready, and FOLLOWED ME IN to the bathroom. It was hilarious.

He's not particularly big... about 6cm leg span. Cute little tacker. I'm guessing he's a young huntsman.

Got my The Alter Boys album in the mail today, it kicks arse, as I had expected. Pretty much an alternate version of Dog Fashion Disco which is fine by me, they're fucking rad.

Also bought the Flogging Molly Whiskey on a Sunday album + DVD documentary today. Listened to the album through twice, it's pretty good. I like the acoustic stuff, but I've never been a huge fan of live recordings of any band. I'll probably watch the doco with Jane and Baz this weekend, and suck back a few whiskeys before heading out to the Valley Fiesta. Good weekend ahead, my first one off work in more than two months.

Last far out dream I had unfortunately wasn't one which found me waking up with laughter escaping my bent-out-of-shape head. I woke up chilled and comfortable, but with a bit of self-suspicion. Like, suspecting that there could be the personality of a moral murderer lying dormant under my consciousness. It was a little worrying.

The dream started out on a rooftop. Great place to start. And with great company, too. I was hangin with Jason DeVore, frontman from Authority Zero, just sitting back, smashing a few beers, etc.

ZOMBIES ATTACK

Holy shit, I grab a fireman's axe, which is handily lying nearby, and Jase got a baseball bat. We fight the stinky bastards for what seems like ages, and just when we're getting a handle on the situation, Jason gets bitten. Before his blood can circulate back to his brain, I cut his head off with my axe, grab it, and run. The next few hours were some of the saddest I've ever experienced. I just cut a friend's head off.

Back to the rooftop, to drinking more beer. I crack one open for Jason's head but he doesn't react. So sad. I got a bit hungry, so headed out for a cornetto (Shaun of the Dead influenced this decision, I'm sure, but I haven't watched it for ages). On the way back, I found one of the guys out of Rogue Traders which is a shitty shitty band from Australia, with a television soap (Neighbours, I believe) star as a lead singer. I beat and restrained him and took him up to the rooftop, where I made him SAW HIS OWN HEAD OFF, so I could use his healthy body to sew Jason's head onto.

My logic for this was that Authority Zero are a far more worthwhile band. AND THE GUY WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO BE CONVINCED. So he did the [pretty disgusting] job, I found my sewing kit, and re-capitated Jason's head onto whatshisname's body. Then we continued to smash beers and watch the apocalypse go by.

Gil Mantera's Party Dream have been played pretty frequently on my computer these last coulple of weeks, which should seem odd, considering their genre. But I like it. Fun stuff. Still hanging out for my The Alter Boys album. The two songs I have of theirs are getting sick of over-use.

I got really drunk, then really stoned, then more really drunk last night, then ate satay vegetables, and saw the Buzzcocks with Jane. It was pretty fucking awesome, as I was expecting, considering their last tour that I attended. However, I left early because I could no longer stand on my feet, and I had to miraculously awake at 6am today for work. WHICH I SOMEHOW DID. And got a free hamburger.

Fu Manchu's "The Wastoid" is a fucking awesome song. I listen to it while on my mail run, and it makes me walk in slow mo.

I don't think I could truthfully say that I've ever had a COMPLETELY sane cab driver in my life. They're all bonkers, whether it be in just a small way, or an outrageous flamboyant display of mental divergence. Now, I have some pretty far out thought processes, and some fairly extensive random (so it seems) amnesia, however I believe I manage to keep it together MOST of the time. But those fucking cab drivers... whoa.

I had a cab ride last week, where the driver was explaining to me his fantastic idea for a new nightclub in The Valley. Called..... "Stinky's" (I presume the apostrophe is possessive, as if the club is owned by Stinky, or inhabited by a lingering stink). At Stinky's, nobody is refused entry, nobody is ever kicked out, and it's open 24 hours. with 24 hour webcam feed to www.stinkys.com! So people on the internet can watch what's going on, and phone/email/sms in regarding what's going on at that particular time.

His example was: say if someone saw a hot chick, they could phone up and ask her to do a strip tease, then if she got up on stage and did so, she'd win a carton of beer and a BAG OF CHIPS!!

What a great idea....

Crazy fuckers. They turn a simple journey into an adventure. Every time. I appreciate that. If I could afford it, I'd take taxis everywhere.

Just ordered an album by The Alter Boys from Amazon.com. That's my splurge for this pay period. Even though it only cost me $10 incl. postage. I'm a tightarse, sometimes. Anyhow, I've heard two of their tracks, and have found them to be quite good. Stumbled upon the album on amazon and thought, why not. I believe it's called 'The Exotic Sounds of the Alter Boys' and similarly, I believe there's some members from Dog Fashion Disco in the band. At least, the vocals sound similar, at some points.

Foot's healing up nicely, I no longer have a hole, but just a flat, circular graze. POSITIVE. And as of Monday, I've started a strict training regime, to look like a boxer in about two months, since at that time, I plan on acting as a young Hitler of the 1930's competing against an equally young Schindler in the gentleman's oldest sport, boxing. In a film I'm currently co-writing, which is possibly the best script I've put words into, ever. Schindler's FIST.

That's all.

I've had another hilarious dream recently, which I'll journal up when I can be bothered. Right now, though, I'm going to have a bit of a rant.

Some cunt just forced me to have a motorbike accident, I'm so fucking angry.

I ride a Yamaha DT175 (slow-arse dirt bike, but does me fine till I head overseas). The headlight's pretty dim, since it's an old bike. This guy he was following me down Eatons X-Ing road, flashing his lights now and then. Obviosly he thought I didn't have my light on, so he kept this up for about 4kms. Yeah, right man, i fucking get it, my headlight is fucked..

i turned onto clear mountain road and he followed me, right up close behind, like just metres away, with his headlights on high beam. I couldn't see a fucking thing with his lights in my mirrors, and ran off the road. Had a bit of a crash, tore a chunk out of my ankle and RUINED MY NEW SOCKS! Furious... but it gets worse.

The cunt didn't even stop! just drove past me slowly, then off down the road. What an arsehole.

The crash made me think of "Bastard Wants to Hit Me" by They Might Be Giants. At the time of the accident though, I was listening to "Taken By Vultures" by HORSE the band, on my iPod. It's a bloody great song, by a bloody great band. Now I'll probably become overcome with anger every time I hear it. I can't remember the last time I was angry.

And my Reverend Glasseye album arrived in the mail today. Fuck it's good. Our Lady of the Broken Spine. I love these guys. Checkem out.

Time for a cup of tea and a good long rest. Aside from the crash just an hour ago, I'm bloody terrific. It's been an excellent weekend/start of the week.

Until next time, fags.
Couch.

I've told most of you about this one already, but I'm cross-posting old shit, and goodness forbid if i miss one!

I woke up after coming to the conclusion that you cannot lean forward to put your hat on, if YOU are a bottle of tomato sauce, and you have a HAT for a lid. I spent the entire night repeating the same action: my lid (which was a cowboy hat) was lying on the ground, and since I was a bottle of sauce [with no arms], the only way i could pick it up was by leaning forward and sticking my head into it, then standing straight. As logic would have it, by leaning forward, all I did was fill my hat with sauce, rendering it useless. I can imagine that if ever I see a cowboy hat full of sauce in real life, I will be overcome by the same feeling of intense frustration that I woke up with this morning.

New developments: I DID SEE A COWBOY HAT AND TOMATO SAUCE! THANKS TO MANDREW's BIRTHDAY PRESENT. YOU ARSEHOLE.

I found some friends. If I missed any, TELL ME.

I didn't look particularly hard.

I had this dream on Saturday [03/06/06] night, after going to bed
listening to Dog Fashion Disco, a band with some truly horrific songs.
I remember having to switch from their album to 4KQ Classic Hits radio
one night because I was driving home stoned at 4am and scared out of
my mind.

When it started out, i fell in with a native
american militia group in Brisbane, and we blew up buildings full of
people with old barrells full of TNT and long fuses etc. It was for a
worthy cause, I'm sure, but that part I don't remember. All I know is,
the people I blew up were the bad guys.

THEN all the people we killed, (who were burned and charred skeltons
by this stage) came back to life and hunted us down like dogs. Since
there were only about ten of us, and hundreds of them, we sought
refuge in the cave where we hid the TNT and our other stuff. Soon
enough, the skeletons found us and led a huge charge against us. We
were doomed. ALL OF A SUDDEN, there appears an army of thousands of
tiny mexicans (I'm talking no taller than 1 foot) with milary issue
camouflage sombreros, RIDING ON ANTS! They charged in and fought off
the skeltons by throwing tiny tomohawks at them.

We had a chance to retreat back to my place and regroup, so i told the
Mexican leader what our movements were, and he directed his army to
force the skeletons all against this big fence in my back yard, and
trapped them there. The little mexicans continued to pelt them with
tomohawks, while the ants ran all over them, biting and swarming, as
they do. This wasn't killing the skeletons, though, so i asked the
leader how much longer they could keep that up. This is hilarious. He
said "WE HAVE EXACTLY EIGHT MINUTES OF TOMOHAWKS LEFT!" hahaha

So I said "RIGHT, that's perfect!" and ran down to the cave to grab
some guns and ammunition. I came back up, handed them out to my crew,
and we started picking off the skeletons by shooting them in the head,
one by one. When there were only a few left, THE QUEEN turned up to
commend me on my efforts, escorted by MY DAD, but since I was still
shooting skallywags, I almost shot the queen. She ducked out of the way,
shitting herself, but my dad laughed, helped her up, and said "HAHA
Don't worry about that. He nearly shot me too, one day."

And that was the end. I woke up laughing so hard that i was crying. It
was awesome.

At the insistence of some of my friends, I will use this journal service to cross-post the journals I write at last.fm, which are mainly just re-counts of dreams I've had.
I will post the earliest of such journals now, then get ready for work. Day 3 of the figure skating championships, and I'm getting a little bored of it. Thank goodness my iPod is fixed. I CAN LISTEN TO ABRASIVE GRINDCORE INSTEAD OF THIER SHITTY HOMMO ICE-FAIRY SKATING THEMES.