Kyle Sandilands Poem

Turns out I'm not very good at blogging, however I am trying to find more time now...

I wrote this here 'poem' by asking google for 'words that rhyme with land'.... It told me and I did it according to google's instructions. Turns out a lot of stuff rhymes with 'land' which was lucky, stuff like hand and banned. It's about radio, and all round "life" celebrity, Kyle Sandiland. It's not exactly John Donne, or fresh as far as topics are concerned but still.

Kyle Sandiland

I'd like to take you by the hand. Skip with you to the promised land,
Let Satan milk your anal gland; with a wrouhgt iron, hatstand.
You make quests for ratings by the underhand,
Your crass rape 'jape' should see you banned,
as dismay would surely cross the land, if you continue with your talk so bland.

I'd enjoy seeing you body slammed, by the A Team, in their A team van.
"Crazee fool! You are a tool!" With BA Barracus you will duel,
I'll pay him extra to be cruel
He'll throw you over lot's of cars, and Face will fist you up the ars. (Face is definitely a closet man fister - my Dad told me)

Some how you judge those with more ta-lent,
yet you are not one who deserves to be rele-vent,
In fact; I'd like to see you raped, by that new born baby ele-phent (which was born around the time when this was written)

This is a routine I have been working on about things that confuse / bemuse me... Sodoko, high heeled shoes, Angry Australian festival goers. I just typed it up last night and, might use some of it, might not!

I’m not really much of an angry kind of guy, there are not too many things in this world that genuinely, oooooohh, get me writhing in anger, however; I do spend a lot of time feeling bemused, confused and plain amused; sodoko; if you enjoy watching a grown 30 year old man devolve into a baby chimpanzee, try explaining to me how the fuck you do sodoko; numbers, squares in rows must contain different numbers…. (Chimp impression) got any bananas? It became one of the reasons that I broke up with my last girlfriend; she just wouldn’t accept that I could not grasp the concept and became rather bullish in her attempts to teach me the “art” of the sodoko puzzle. Is it any wonder I fucked her off?

A constant source of confusion to me is the popularity of the high heeled shoe amongst the women folk. I understand that the high heel can add a certain accentuation to a lady’s calf which is deemed appealing to many a member of the human race; male and female alike, me included… I hasten to add, and women feel great whilst wearing them if not physically, then mentally. Got it, grasped it; but the logic of donning a pair of shoes that makes walking more than 5 metres, especially whilst drunk, a ridiculously painful, not to mention rather hazardous pursuit really escapes me. I mean, that’s the reason I choose not to roller blade to the pub; I keep that for “special spandex Sunday” down the park, no alcohol in sight, just me and the blades ‘cruising’ (without the man bumming)… but that’s another story…. I’ll save for another time…

I’ll explain the roots of my confusion / amusement, I grew up in a Town called Portsmouth in the UK, a place which at around midnight to 2am on a weekend would ‘magically’ transform itself into a kind of nightmarish dystopian concrete, human version of Jurassic park as uniformly every blond dolly bird out on the raz would magically change form into some kind of drunken velocer raptor impersonator, on the hunt for man meat, or…..as a back up, a kebab!
I guess you’d compare it to Newcastle, or Kings Cross without quite as many prossies /junkies…. All I’m suggesting ladies is save your dignity post midnight by donning flat shoes and whenever you want to flaunt your buff as fuck calf muscles pop your heel up… and Tense!! Give it a try! I’m sure you won’t regret it!

I’ve stopped going to music festivals in Australia also, the only reason I can possibly think of for going is, really, for the purposes of comedy material. I’ve never really enjoyed them. To be honest I walk around those things, the BDO, Homebake, Good vibes, whatever; in a constant state of fucking confusion…. Why are those flouro clad teenage girls drawing definition lines onto to the muscles of that intense looking roidy man? How do stilt walkers make a fucking living? Do they have secondary jobs? Why are there groups of shirtless angry looking men with shit five star tattoos dancing with each other, without a woman in sight? I’m guessing by their furrowed brows and the bad vibes that they’re throwing out that perhaps they are a dance troop made up of nationalistic rather repressed prison gays…. Perhaps they are an off duty rapey league team made up…. Of repressed prison gays….

By way of another specific example, I saw a man at a festival, albeit in WA, which I guess immediately ups the potential twat factor somewhat, with the demanding words; ‘Suck my Cock!!!’ on his back, this is true I have the photo to prove it… He was one of these angry fun type pricks, shit tats pokey little eyes angrily shoulder bumping passers by, including my friend as he danced… to fucking Faker! Amazing! Hard maximum security prison gay! What also amazed me was how wide he had cast the net on his demand, no stipulation as to his preference as to whether man, woman or beast would be his preferred felattio partner, just SUCK MY COCK!!! He might as well put in brackets at the end (Open to anyone, no conditions apply)….
I’ve written a poem to express my true dismay at these human beings…..

It’s called ‘Five Star Twats with Five Star Tatts on Their Backs… Ode to Big Day Out

Take crystal meth, roids and bundy rum
Now they’re about ready for some angry fun.
Pituitary retards showing off their guns
All of them having loads of angry fun
All of them single, living with their mums;
Look at them dance! Wow! ANGRY FUN!
Once again, shirts off dancing with the guys!
Crystal Meth, bundy rum, tiny tiny eyes!
(get in character)
“Look at that brown man, that’s not right!”
“Gonna take him down man ruin his night!”
Spreading messages of hate and misogyny,
Look at all the bees with their tiny knees!
Repressed homosexuals every single one;
Probably going home now for some angry angry bum fun!

Nosferatu review

Getting my review of Nosferatu published in The Skateboarder's journal! Here it is as it will appear, "knarly, amusing yet informative" (I'd like to think so anyway).

Nosferatu Review

For those of you unfamiliar with the 1921 ‘symphony of horror’ Nosferatu, effectively it’s an unauthorised silent film version of Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, directed by the legendary F.W. Murnau in five ‘acts’ with locations and character names changed for legal purposes. If you haven’t watched the film then there would be at least one scene you may remember seeing somewhere, somehow; an eerie mysteriously cast shadow glides up a staircase, shoulders hunched, weird ass pointy fingers outstretched as it enters a room where a woman awaits, startled upright in bed…. Ring a bell at all?

If you’re still in the dark regarding the actual plot of the film I’ll break in down for you as follows: Flatulent real estate solicitor Hutter is sent out by his horrible little cunty money grabbing real estate boss, Knock, to the Transylvanian mountain to negotiate the sale of a barely standing warehouse in the fictitious town of Wisborg to the reclusive Count Orlok, played to genius effect by Max Schreck. The foppish Hutton finds ‘The Book of Vampires’ in an Inn close to Orlok’s castle and starts to read. Once he meets Orlok he takes in the Count’s AIDS badger-like complexion, rat like features, ever so slightly creepy interest in a picture of Mrs Hutton (particularly her long lady neck), coffin based sleeping habits, over zealous interest in blood, etc. etc., and he’s immediately on edge. He does the math, comes over all Columbo and realises that two plus two equals the bitey ‘Nosferatu’ as mentioned in the book…. Phew! The Count, who’s got the horn for some lovely long lady neck fast tracks his move, locking Hutton in his castle for good measure; cue vampire related action galore as Hutton and Orlok immediately engage in a race against time across Europe to save Wisborg and the lovely long lady neck of Mrs Hutton! Hutton on land Orlok by sea…

Essentially the film has been digitally restored visually to good effect (as much as it could be) and the haunting, atmospheric score re-recorded in Dolby 5.1 surround sound. Being a 1921 silent film it’s as kitsch and camp as you’d expect, however it does offer up some pretty kick ass suspense that stands the test of time. It’s really the score that dictates the pace of the film and as the tension builds, from act III especially, the music proves paramount in lending the film it’s dramatic pace, with its pacey, rolling drums and theatrical use of wind instruments. Being that the last horror film I watched was Raimi’s gloriously ridiculous ‘Drag me to Hell’ it was great to get back to the roots of horror by revisiting Nosferatu. Murnau was famed for his dramatic use of light and shadow, and it is in the scenes featuring Count Orlock we see this best demonstrated; particularly in the iconic staircase scene. It’s cool to watch the film that probably gave birth to that dramatic technique. A technique that Raimi uses a lot in ‘Drag me to hell’, to similar effect.

Act four of the film probably gives the film it’s funniest scene as the Count departs the boat in Wisborg and after a long trip sucking off sailors (scuse the pun) ‘inconspicuously’ creeps across town in a jaunty, gangly and fucking perverted fashion, coffin under arm to his new abode, the deserted warehouse; which, low and behold is directly across the canal from the Hutton’s, and more importantly Ellen Hutton and her sexy ass neck…. Cue deaths galore as the Count aka Nosferatu aka Kim Basinger’s finger double literally plagues the town vampire style, before the film reaches, to be honest it’s rather inauspicious climax.

I’d be lying if I said Nosferatu isn’t at all dated (1921!!), it is, and that’s really part of its appeal. If you’re a fan of horror and want to see where it all started I’d definitely suggest checking it out, it looks and sounds great on a decent surround sound system. The extras however I would leave alone. The documentary on Murnau (The Language of shadows…) would be interesting, however it is narrated by possibly the most boring American man I have ever heard (think teacher from Ferris Buellar). Unless listening to university lecturers verbally wank off a dead German is a major turn on I’d leave the commentary off also!

OK so I had a blog many moons ago documenting my travels around Australia and New Zealand, which is now long lost in the cyber ether. I had a special focus on amusingly dressed tourists. Largely, being honest, American, middle aged tourists. Sock and sandal / fanny pack combos all over the joint. It was off the hook. You'd have loved it.

A lot has changed since those frivolous and care free days. Somehow almost 5 years have passed and largely I've been in cruise control, knowing really that I needed a jolt again to shock me into fulfillment!

That has now come full force, and of my own bidding when in one tumultuous week I not only mutually ended a relationship with a ladyface, sold the financial annoyance that was my car and most importantly, quit my job and after 12 years of "shall I shan't I" dillying and dallying, decided, balls out, to get my arse to Uni!

This blog will, I hope be the true insight into "mature" age academia that you have all been waiting for. I shall regale you with tales of beard stroking, studiousness, learned fables and obviously much purile nonsense besides. Oh and for the next 5 weeks I'll be in London, New York and Amsterdam, and will be doing my uptmost to fit in some open mic slots in the process! Watch this space!

Welcome......