Shut up. That shirt looks great on you.
"Elisabeth Beucher’s ‘Green Warrior Shower Curtains’ help control your water consumption by slowly inflating its spikes as you shower. Stay in too long and you get stabbed. Drop the soap and experience prison."

I'd like you to meet...

SophaƩ, possibly not her real name, is one of those beautiful young raggamuffins who you can always rely on for something unexpected. According to her Facebook page, she "is a charismatic young fellow with a passion for adventure." Isn't that adorable? Naturally, it would seem silly not to interview her for my blog, if only to gain insight into the complex mind of bonafide beautiful young raggamuffin, would it not?

Liam: Why are you so delicious? SophaƩ: I think the deliciousness comes from the fact that my mother was a tart and my father a fruit cake. As such, I am a fruity tart.

What do you study at uni? I 'study' science at Uni, majoring in Ecology. But 'study' is probably not the right word for it because of all the things I do at Uni, 'study' comes just after being a pirate but before pimping hoes. Word. On a side note, I've been practising saying 'word' at the end of sentences like it ain't no thing. I still sound a little unnatural but I'm confident I will get there.

If you had a unicorn, what would you name it? Would it be a boy or a girl? Would you let me ride it around? Now this unicorn question is particularly appealing to me for I often long to own, if not become, a unicorn. The thing about unicorns, Liam, is they do not have a gender. They do not reproduce in the same way as you or I. They are majestic beings for which sex is an unspoken, filthy and unnecessary act. They're sort of likes the Catholics in that way. I think they divide by mitosis. Anyway back to the question I'd name my unicorn/ my unicorn self Jibbles for an unspecified reason. And yes, you could ride it/me but not in a sexual way. I mean, I like you, but with a unicorn? You're sick if you would even consider it. On a side note, something that has always puzzled me about unicorns is that horn. If they are peaceful and loving creatures then why the horn? From an evolutionary stand point horns are classically a tool for fighting, territory defense, male dominance and war. So why then does the unicorn possess such a structure? A dark past I suggest. A dark past of deeply repressed childhood memories.

What do you like listening to (music wise) at the moment? At the moment I am sitting at Roma St Station and there is a homeless lady with beard, rattling a tambourine and hollering. That's what I'm into right now. I think you really have to go to the streets to hear the city's rhythmic soul. I'm new wave like that.

In other news

Bjork does not like to be pointed at.

The last time I saw the movie Mimic I was in primary school. But I still like to believe it's a socially relevant piece of cinema that will leave you questioning your own humanity. If you haven't seen it, I'm probably going to ruin it for you now.
But you know how the bugs don't kill that autistic kid? Was that because, like, the bugs knew what it was like to be different; to be, considered 'retarded' by society? Because that's what my mum says.
Like I said, saw this movie as a minor. I had to have my mum explain the finer points from this movie concerning murderous mutant bugs. I had a dope childhood.
We share 60% of our genes with a banana, 90% with a mouse and over 99% with a chimpanzee. Just something to think about. Deepak Chopra

So you're saying I should stop eating things over the 95% mark? No, Deepak Chopra, I will not.
Robert, excuse me, Mr. Jr, I think you're using the word 'literally' wrong. Because that looks like an ordinary fucking street to me. Or is this like, something muggles can't see?

I think this appeals to me. All of those things. I've no idea what the message is. Big clit?
Curling is by and large my all time favourite sport.
My favourite team is the Tit City Rollers.
When I'm not thinking about curling I'm thinking about not thinking about curling.
My favourite food is curly fries.


Too much?

All popular literature gets made into movies over and over again. Alice in Wonderland, Sherlock Holmes, Robin Hood (was Robin Hood ever literature?) all have multiple movies (tv movies, animated movies, mini-series etc) made in their image.
You know what's mildly devastating?
In 50, maybe 100 years time, someone, somewhere will decide it's time to remake the Harry Potter movies, and I'll be too dead to see them.
It better be possible to watch movies in the afterlife.
Because watching Harry Potter movies is basically hell anyway.
But it's a hellish pain I mildly enjoy. And to miss out on this mild joy would leave me devastated. Mildly.


If anyone can think up a better animal, I'd like to fucking hear it.

This leaves me feeling... This just leaves me. Feeling or otherwise.
It kills me inside that there isn't a social occasion where I can wear a one piece rabbit suit. You have no idea how hard that is on me.
It's harder than having to deal with economic crises and the prospect of one day having to explain the 90's to a teenager.

This is pretty much how I am, all the time, these days. (Minus the apron.)

When you can't even eat watermelon right, I ask what the hell is wrong with you.


You paid $157.97 to look that dull?
If you're aiming to look like you're about to murder someone at a house party and wanted to slip by unnoticed and socially irrelevant? Fine. But I'm going to be at that house party, and I'm going to note how fucking slaggy you look and report it to the police.
"It was slag star over there. Case closed" I'll say.


Arica, Arica, Arica.

I wasn't aware that we needed to be 100% up to date with all the things we have in our house. Teeth, furniture, book cases, that highly organised collection of bottled premature babies. I can't explain any of those things in my house. Where'd you get that couch? I dunno. When did you purchase this cheese? Can't say. Who folded the linen in this linen closet? Fucked if I know.
Arica needs to calm the fuck down and look on the bright side; Tooth Fairy cash! Motherfucking $2 or something right there!


Rhythm is a dancer. Tuesday is cheap. It's these simple truths that we often forget while we strive for constant gratification in this rag-tag world. Amiright?


How yellow are human teeth allowed to get before it's considered poor form? Like, sunflower yellow?
I don't get why this is happening to me. I chew Extra Whitening gum! I chew gum!
I've kind of got this new look going. It's kind of themed. But it's subtle.
Just think about how French to the Bench I'd look with this and that, plus the kitten shirt! Would you just think about that for 45 minutes!?
Plus, I have these dingle dangles. You so want to be me right now it's not funny.
Someone get me this shirt... or one similar to it. Probably not in light blue though. But I'm not choosy.


It is 8:30 in the evening and I can't wait for my coffee tomorrow morning.
I can't have coffee now! It's nearly bedtime... and I'm going by this "no more than 3 cups a day" rule. Although I abide by this 3 cup rule, I'm actually just deceiving myself, because I drink out of a tall glass which holds twice the volume of an ordinary coffee mug. But don't tell myself that.
It's actually the only thing keeping me alive; the anticipation of coffee tomorrow morning. Like a kid waking up on Christmas morning I immediately dive for the coffee, sloshing it down my gullet like so many cheaply made, non-toxic plastic finger puppets.
I'm bad at the Christmas analogy because the thrill of Christmas morning does not compare to the joy I feel at the prospect of coffee.
And like an eager orphan who's been adopted by billionaires and is allowed to eat as many toys as he likes, the instant I get that coffee into my hands I care not about savouring it or taking my time to enjoy its rich aroma. No. And then I want another.


(ROGER and AMANDA walk down a city street at night. They are tipsy.)
ROGER: You're saying that in the entire city of Long Island--
AMANDA: Long Island isn't a city.
ROGER: Fine, Long Island City, whatever--
AMANDA: That also isn't a city.
ROGER: Whatever, my point is--
AMANDA: What is your point?
ROGER: I'm TELLING you my point; my point is--
AMANDA: What's your point already?
ROGER: I'm telling you!
AMANDA: You're pretty worked up.
ROGER: Yeah, I'm worked up.
AMANDA: Do you want to kiss me?
ROGER: Are you kidding me? I want to kiss you on the face.
AMANDA: Then why don't you?
(ROGER hesitates.)
AMANDA: What are you so afraid of?
ROGER: What am I so afraid of? Wow. Um. Looking stupid. Rejection. Dying alone. Global warming. Not living up to my potential. Gradually losing all my friends. Gradually losing all my hair. Having kids who don't love me as much as I love them. My parents getting old. The dentist. Sharks. Settling for a job I don't like. Settling for a wife I don't love. The future in science fiction movies. The future in real life. Anything by Stephen King. Being forgotten after I'm dead. Being forgotten while I'm still alive. Pterodactyl attacks. The government. Fear itself. Spiders. Peaking too early, or too late, or not at all. Never meeting my own impossible standards. Disappointing everyone who loves me. No matter what minor successes I accumulate in my short life, it won't make any difference in the long haul when our entire planet is eaten up by the sun.
AMANDA: Oh. Well, you don't have to be afraid of any of those things.
(ROGER leans in to kiss AMANDA. He is attacked by a PTERODACTYL.)


Liam's book klub

I'm currently reading Lao Tzu's Tao Teh Ching and Michelle Bridges' Crunch Time.
Just kidding, I'd never read philosophy.
So it's just Crunch Time for me. I'ma gunna lose weight fast and keep it off! As Michelle says on page 23, "Taking responsibility for yourself and making conscious choices that support your health and well being is the new you."
OR as Lao Tzu says on page 83:
"The movement of the Tao consists in Returning. The use of the Tao consists in the softness.
All things under heaven are born of the corporeal. The corporeal is born of the Incorporeal."

I'ma gunna go kill myself now, Kthnxbai.
This picture aims to strike the viewer with the kind of emotional forbearance one feels when one must wake up on a Saturday morning, after a Friday night, in order to watch Ben 10 at 10 am.
Note the artist's placement of the hands, one clinging to his face as if trying to verify his physical existence, the other held across his chest as if shielding himself from something invisible yet threatening. It is the face of addiction.

I've probably seen less than a dozen episodes of Ben 10. I have a less than basic understanding of the story arc, and I do not know why it is called "Ben 10". What I do know is that I'll put myself into harm's way to watch that show. Then forget about it completely for the rest of the day. The god damned long day I now have to do something with because I am up before midday.
Today was officially my first day of holidays. Let me tell you how I spent it.

After waking up I immediately rushed to the television to watch Ben 10.
I set my alarm for Ben 10 on Saturdays, which, coincidentally or otherwise, is on at 10 o'clock. I'm not sure whether it's intentional, but having a show called Ben 10 on at 10 is just balls out genius in my opinion.
The night before was spent drinking, which makes Ben 10 at 10am but an unattainable luxury. However, if ever in this pickle, I find a Nescafe Caramel Latte sachet and a tablespoonful of a regular instant coffee in a tall glass makes the impossible slightly more achievable.
For the rest of the day I grazed, lunched and dined while intermittently looking at things on the internet, both funny and erotic. I also did 2 loads of washing and hung them out to dry - 1 load nice clothes, the other pyjamas and my underpants.


6 things I can't help but dig

6. Razorcandi. That gothic model girl.

5. Poppers with realistic fruit skin by Naoto Fukasawa4. This ad featuring Tilda Swinton for Pringle of Scotland
3. Junkie XLft. Steve Aoki - 1967 Poem

2. Edward Maya & Jigulina - Stereo Love ( Massivedrum & Dj Fernando Hit Mix 2010 )

Chloe Sevigny speaking about Summer

By the time you finish reading this I'll have already jerked off to her tits. I'm so sorry.


There is something about this photo of a baby that really resonates with me. Like, it's poignant, ya know?
It's not the fact that this baby looks like John Candy.
It's not the fact that it looks like Slimer of Ghostbusters fame.
But, be it the curvature of his forehead or the delicate crossing of his baby arms, I am transfixed and coerced into reading too deeply into his soul, wondering what on earth it is this baby is trying to say. Wondering with unbounded curiosity, what it is he is going through such great lengths to try and express.
Surely it is an emotion beyond my metaphysical understanding and emotional comprehension.
Well, I have an exam on Friday so I should really start busting out some quality blog posts. Kidding, that will never happen.
But let's update you. I've got this anonymous friend who is the bomb. And I couldn't be happier for her at the moment.
She's "dating" this 37 year old (16 years her senior) because she found out he lives in a mansion. There might be other reasons, but I'm pretty sure it's the mansion that really consolidates the relationship, because before we knew he lived in a mansion we only referred to this guy as "the weirdo who comes into her work and presents her with fruit."
It takes guts to stick to your dream of marrying into money. I'm super proud of her honesty regarding her negligible emotional attachment to this man and her tenacity to attempt an empty relationship in the chance of reaping great rewards.
It may sound shallow and yeah, it is. But the pleasure a rich man takes in his association with a younger woman isn't something you can qualify or quantify with your sense of moral decency. It can, however, be measured in gifts; all the expensive gifts she will receive.
Also, I got this mad post about a baby coming up. So stay tuned for that.


This better be the best effigy of me I've ever seen.


I endured 57 seconds of it! See how much you can withstand.

If you're looking for something to direct your sarcasm toward, might I suggest this?
I cannot begin to explain the smouldering disdain I feel for it. But maybe I can create a sculpture that will capture its essence. A scupture made from rotting kidneys would be the obvious place to start.

Our thoughts are with Annie


I can't believe you turned the universe into wearable pants and didn't let me know.
I had to find out through facebook.
You're dead to me.

Well they really got the finer details of a heroin user's life down. Ashtray full of cigarette butts, a glass of amber liquid, a human skull, a red lampshade, and what appears to be nunchucks hanging around the door handle.
No drug den would be a drug den without those key things.


Youth dripping away

Saddest day of my life

If any one ever associated my taste in meaningless music to me liking Two and a Half Men I'd storm out of the room, break into a nearby car and drive off a bridge. Or I'd just die a little inside. One or the other.