Fantastically, courageously, and with grace.

A field of oats up the road.

I've finalized my arrangements for attending a conference in Perth. That is, I've registered for the conference, uploaded the final version of the paper for the conference, booked my flights, and, most importantly, I've bought a ticket to the Big Day Out in Perth, which is on the weekend after the conference! The lineup is pretty good, and it looks like I may finally see 2manyDjs. The timing is going to be a bit tricky. We will probably leave Gladstone on the 28th, and I have a flight from Melbourne to Perth on the night of the 31st, which means we are going to have to hoof it back to Melb. The bugger is, we (where we = Me and my uni mates Mat, and Dan) wont have the Wen connection to smuggle in copious amounts of booze in the staff entrance. I aim to strap myself with booze and/or explosives, the latter guaranteeing me safe entry in the event I'm sprung.

Also, looks like I'm going to Chicago for a stretch in Feb/Mar to finish off this book chapter, and also have an interview for a postdoc there. My devious mind is wrangling ways that I can turn this into another trademark gallivant, that is, while it's not wrangling ways to abduct Mischa Barton. One possibility that springs to mind is the ol' RTW ticket under the pretension of visiting a bunch of blokes in the south of France. Trouble is, I'd have to orgy-nize all that soon, because I'm going to be deserted on Wanker Isle II in the midst of a sausage sizzle that involves one rather large pork sausage.

I've had some disjointed musings on the recent execution of Stan "Tookie" Williams. Knowing nothing at all about the case gives me a unique perspective, and thus the license to bray about it on the BLOGOSPHERE. Don't worry, Ma'am, we're from the internet. Tookie is the kind of nickname that only your girlfriend would give you,
and one that you'd hope was only spoken in private. I think he probably got pretty hot under the collar when people started calling him Tookie around the place, and then they weren't very understanding about his feelings, and he just flipped out and killed some guys, then word got around that "Tookie" was pretty badarse, his name preceded him, if you will, which only made things worse. That's all.

I got bailed up by ol' "Budgie" at the gym today. God, he just doesn't get out of your personal space and shutup. I've learned you just have to carry on, and put in the odd 'yep' or buddy-buddy conspiratorial nod. I really wish I could have recorded the two hours during which he incessantly raved on and on, initially circular monologues about a few topics, and then, like a giant rolling bullshit snowball, gradually incorporating more of his own deranged rhetoric into the circle. I'd set the entire recording to animation, it would be absolutely hilarious until he found out about it and hunted me down in his old Kingswood.

NYE is shaping up to be a few beers on the veranda until the mozzies get too bad. Being 27 sure takes the stuffing out of one. Keep off my damn lawn, you good for nothing kids.