What?

What? Where am I? Who are you?

Take a look at this guy:

You'll never guess what he sells.

Sick, sick perverted Beaver.

Apologies administered.

Sorry about no posts in several severals. Will post one soon.

Song of the millenium?

I feel bad for neglecting this blog, sorta like how one would feel after realising that the funny smell downstairs really was your only friend and schoolyard chum squeaky, the pet mouse.

So I'm going to post more, pinky promise.

What better way to do so than with my favorite song of all time? There isn't a better way, don't bother.


The Serpentine Offering by Dimmu Borgir really is the best song ever composed in the history of amazing for many reasons.

For starters, after witnessing the most brutally intimidating pipe organ i have ever seen in my life, the lead singer feels obliged to tell you that his descent is the story of everyman. Although hatred, darkness and despair would be cool to claim as your ancestors, the most important part here is the drums. The rapidly firing thuds are the bass drum. Everytime you hear a thud, the drummer is lifting up one leg, and pushing down on a pedal on the other. Go ahead, try it, I'm convinced the dude is Usain Bolt with a wig and really powerful makeup.

Secondly, the pipe organ. You might be familiar with the pipe organ and the usual player of a pipe organ, the lovely old lady who plays for the church every sunday:And the lovely organ she would play:

As it would seem, Dimmu Borgir are not ones to be outdone by the aging population. They upgraded their organ just slightly.
They also upgraded their little old lady just slightly:
However I think the best thing about this band is the fact that they make so many things i used to think were funny into absolutely terrifying. They did it to church organs, they did it to orchestral music. And to this day they remain the most Intimidating Lord of the Rings nerds I have ever seen.

Don't worry, I'm terrified as well.

Splendour in the grass. Music, dogbus and portugasm ensues.

This weekend I decided to head down to Byron Bay for Splendour in the Grass. I love music festivals, and everything that comes with them, from the freshly squeezed lemonade, to guessing what the smell is on your shirt the day after (mm, smells like topless male; drunk and abnormally sweaty, Marijuana and compressed crowd). This, being my third splendour and my first completely independent music festival was looking to be a great weekend. However, only a few hours from my destination, i recieved some bad news. It turned out that the place me and my friend were going to stay was no longer a place for me and my friend to stay.

This was an interesting twist to the tale, because now as you probably realise, i had absolutely nowhere to stay. It dawned very quickly on Andy and I what happened to boys like ourselves in prison, so as you can imagine, it was almost unbearable to think what would happen to boys like ourselves in a place like Byron Bay. With premonitions of dropping the soap on a busy Byron street flashing through our impressionable minds, we desperately sought refuge, and it eventually came to us in a 99% polyester case.

I know what you're thinking and with great dissapointment i must inform you that it was not a inflatable kayak, or a wahu beach cricket set, although these things of course would have been much more useful. Instead, we were able to accquire a beach tent.

The pawnbroker whom we bought this quality shelter from was very sympathetic of our woeful scenario and told us that we could buy the tent and return it and get 50 percent of our money back. This sounded like an excellent deal to us and we accepted quickly. Bear in mind at this point we thought we were paying 20 dollars and would be getting 10 dollars back on monday for this:
Although the case of the tent bore an image not disimilair to the tent shown above, what we got was a little different:Although the picture does not show it, it is important to note that the tent had no fucking door. This meant that we had absolutely no shelter from the cold and the pests. Waking up to see over 40 mosquitoes siting on a wall, waiting for you to uncover yourself was almost as unnerving as the 8 degrees Celcius it was at night.

However these were mere obstacles that were easily clambered over. Sleeping in a friend of a friends backyard in a inadequate tent is a rite of passage for most, if not all people around the world. It was all very worth it considering we were a 3 minute walk away from the actual venue.

Walking to the festival was interesting. Empty bottles of alcoholic beverages were strewn everywhere. People were already staggering and informing security guards that their teeth offended them. It was a little suprising to see that it was half past ten. In the morning.

Once inside, Splendour was running well. The bands were top-notch and the atmosphere was lovely. Memorable moments from the first day include having a man twice my age attempt to fight me over a disposable camera, having my scalp massaged by the people behind me during little red, and watching the lead singer of art vs science dance in an obscure dance tent on his own like a creepy old man. The second day also was good. Dananananakroyd were absolutely amazing, and are almost as good at hugs as they are at playing live.

Almost too quickly, the monday came around. Me and Andy awoke once again to an onslaught of mosquitoes who quickly pursued us out of our tent as we packed it up and got ready to go home. Highlight of the monday was the crazy whispering lady.

The bus trip on the way back to brisbane however was one of the most amazing ends to a brilliant weekend ever. As me and andy boarded the greyhound, (pronounced Grah-hund) the bus driver asked for my name to check my booking. I told him my name. The bus driver then replied with "what if I told you that you aren't on this list?". I found this amusing and I informed him that if he said that he would be lying, as i could clearly see my name and pointed it out to him. After solving the wise busman's riddle, it was time for all to board "ze grahhund". Not only was the wise busman wise with humbling riddles, he was also vehicullarly inept. It would seem that the busman deemed it appropriate to drive along the highway in 1st gear, and after smelling molten clutch, decided to shift gears in the order 5-2-4-1-3. Had he combined his driving skills with lullabies, the frequent stalls, bunny hops and wobbles would have lulled all in the bus into a peaceful sleep.

The weekend was finished with nandos peri peri chips. Portugasm ensued.

I don't really know who this man is, but he administers portugasms, I can set you up on a date if you want.

For my friends across the big ditch.

So for the last days i was in a magical place. A place famous for kiwi birds, silver ferns and short people with excessively hairy feet: Not hobbits, New Zealanders. New Zealand is a strange and terrifying land. There are a few things that amused me about New Zealand. New Zealand has a tough stance on drug smuggling. New Zealand recently introduced it's lethal weapon that it will use in its war on drugs, it looks a little bit like this:This bloke sniffs out drugs, and sends the bad guys to jail. If you didn't notice, he's a bit cute. Upon arriving in Auckland, i saw this guy wandering around keeping check on everybody. I tried to pat him and said something intelligent that probably went along the lines of "nawwwwwwww". The lady that the dog was taking for a walk on a leash quickly told me she would put me in jail if i tried to touch the gorgeous dog again. I am now going to get me a drug dog.
Throughout my entire trip, it seemed a prerequisite for tour guides and people of importance to make jokes about australia, or the australian rugby team, or anything to do with australia. Although initially I greeted these digs as silly jokes which I merely laughed off, probably because i had no idea whether or not australia was any good at rugby or whether I pronounced six stupidly, the situation very quickly reached boiling point. This is where a moa bird started some complications. A moa bird is a large bird native to New Zealand, apparently its quite large, this is a picture of my sister standing next to one:The thing about the moa bird is it is extinct. I noticed the moa closely resembled a huge fucking emu. So when the tour guide made a sly remark about the failings of the australian rugby team, i quickly retorted that at least we could keep the animals in our country alive. This caused tour guide to stop talking about australia rather quickly. It turns out that he cared a lot more about a sheep cross giraffe cross chicken than I did about the australian rugby team. With a tear forming in his guiding eyes, he told the group to move onto the trout lake. I sort of felt bad afterwards, as i quickly realised this guy probably had nothing to do with a prehistoric bird with sheeps wool and a really long neck going extinct. I felt more sorry for him though when i realised that his country was lead by this:Are the cute dogs compensating for something?

Ikea: vomit, frustration and love ensue.

Today i woke up alone. Adorning the table was a note that read "Conor, have gone to IKEA, have fed the cat."

Lovely, my parents have abandoned me for Logan, and I mistakenly just gave the cat a second breakfast.

While waiting for my parents to get back home I had a bowl of Weet-bix. When my parents got home, they brought up several flat boxes, candles, and a cylinder of Sweedish biscuits. The next 6 hours saw me and dad assemble various cupboards, beds and what have you. I have concluded that whoever invented bent pieces of dowel wood as a substitute for nails was probably a nazi, wanting to inflict as much pain and suffering upon me and my father. However it was not the wooden dowels that saw the end of me. It would seem that Ikea, which is based in a questionable part of queensland (springwhat?) originally from a questionably nordic country, has products with a questionable motive. At first, the sweedish bikkies seemed to be delicious, enjoyable, with a light texture and slightly woody undertones. However i can assure you that they very quickly resembeled crumb sized razorblades in my stomach. It felt like I had eaten a lawnmower while it was still on. It would seem that IKEAs strategy is to lure a customer with a trojan horse, and cause tragedy and misery once inside. If the biscuits weren't enough proof, then me and my dad spending 5 hours on a stupid looking bed only to assemble it fucking upside down, and back to front in my brothers bedroom must surely suffice.I knew there was something bad about springwood..

Monarch in the morning.

Today i woke up rather content and happy, i got out of bed, still half asleep and turned on the tv.
Instead of being confronted with the usual morning breakfast shows and cheez tv, i saw this:

























A quarter past eight seemed a little early for the most horrifying site of my life, but it happened. The tv told me that this was a movie about a queen who lived a long time ago and had some personal issues and a few dilly dallys with the spanish armada. But as the movie ensued i realized that being a queen would be quite good. Take for instance when she throws a little tanty at the queen of scots. Would it not be great to be able to behead anybody you had an argument with? And then the queen falls in love with rugged man hunk sailor boy. Queenie really likes this rugged man hunk sailor boy and insists he stay in court rather then get out and ride rough with his old comrades (If you thought that was a navy joke, you were right). She likes him so much that she is angered by a spanish man who accusess rugged man hunk sailor boy of being a "pirate". It just goes to show they even had gay jokes 500 years ago. The Queen is maddened by the daring spaniard and sends him out of court. But oh dear! rugged man hunk sailor boy seemingly forgets his navy ways and falls in love with a female. Presumably at this stage, rugged man hunk sailor boy shows said female how they do it back on the seven seas, as she falls ill with a baby. Nowadays there isn't much you can do when your toyboy runs off and knocks up another lady, but back in 1500 there was a lot you can do if you were a queen. Cate Blanchett shows off her acting skills by growling and sort of angrily throwing pregnant ladys hands around, causing pregnant lady to become alarmed. She flees somewhere else, and queenie locks up rugged man hunk sailor boy. Great plan, lock him up in a cell full of men in the dark, did you forget what he used to do back on the ships? Don't drop the soap rugged man hunk sailor boy!. At this point the coffee machine told me he was ready to spit out hot coffee, so i changed it to doctor phil. But imagine all of that! How crazy it would have been to be that queen lady.
Can't say i'd have a love affair with the queen nowadays though...