Tales of men sending naked photos through the mail came with a nondescript yellow envelope. Inside, wrapped in a printed letter, a shiny acid-free sheet wrapped a few times around a black card. The black card being the choice of many a philatelists wanting to showcase the wares. In this case, a set of disparate stamps from the area known in Africa as Ghana. The letter mentions no date, yet the events described are posted against a fading star of an auction site. Sold.com.au, now subsumed into the global giant that is eBay. A year perhaps, even more if given correctly. Sitting somewhere on a benchtop and paid for, waiting for a skinned magazine printed in 1981 to come. A magazine that just happens to have disappeared. Or perhaps, was never really sent.
Wednesday, 31 December 2003
Most unfortunate to encounter and endeavour a slight kink in the time for sleep. Too early and all noise would continue to break rounds and reverberate throughout the dust. Too late and here comes the scratching and chewing of the wall inhabitants going about their meals. Or it's just above the bed. Or under. Maybe they're roaches and not mice. Or the mice and the roaches are working in unison moving the people toward insanity. Might even be the mice eating the roaches or vice versa. This translates roughly to about 4 hours of sleep during the dark and five during the day. Works out about the same then.
Tuesday, 30 December 2003
Sunday revved with the purring of the motorbike of the postie delivering in the lead up to their busiest time of the year. On show was a continued subscription to a street magazine that once featured an article about a guy walking around an expo and a bank statement. Today there was nothing except the feeling of dusty blowing all over the freshly wet line of clothes desperately trying to dry themselves before being subjected to the vile spray of a sick man trying to spread his ills.
On this cavern of mail it still leaves the niggling worry on how to sufficiently turn Alison Dare's Miss Adventure into a suitable wrap. Carnal creases or gentle buffering?
Wednesday, 24 December 2003
Splattered throughout the show, run-along banners advertising the UK's Wife Swap. The vows seemingly took forever to utter and the running commentary was too polished not to take notice off the ambience of the moment. The half-chocolate/half-vanilla cake looked pretty cool and the leading flower girl at one stage nearly "drove" the ring boy into the seats. At all the cutting away to commercials wasn't as bad as For Love or Money. Now that was painful.
Friday, 19 December 2003
Well, that certainly was deflating. Winning no respect or reward other than the million dollar prize, the least of the three that were left, not Jon nor Lill. Jon kept up on how he was the king of the men and all that were left were women. Which left him no king at all.
Friday, 19 December 2003
Boxes and boxes just started to appear following a night of rustling. There's suspicion that a sympathiser of the plight of the feral cats is behind the boxing of the backyard. Tearing down the bark off the little trees, ripping through the birds and generally making a boney mess. How and where they once found a whole fish is mind boggling. Damn them cats ambushing the entrance. Step out and they'll rush from the side in attempts to sneak in. They believe there might be better food than the fruits and compost out there in the harsh backyard of jutting wood planks and shards of broken bones.
Friday, 19 December 2003
Forget about the heady stuff of finding an income stream. Worry instead on the task of the last sentence. Spend instead at least two hours rummaging through boxes and boxes and boxes and boxes of old comics. Never mind that any sort of order, such as alphabetised or company lines, are ignored. Go instead looking for the next thing. The thing that'll likely make it hard to complete the first sentence. Plastic bagging after dusty plastic bagging, one after the other. All in search of something that might read good depending on how the cover looks or the sheen off the gloss. Go nuts if the house of the dollar is a zero. Feel a sense of odd as the fist high pile—that which bears cover to "love" or "hate" —isn't made up of 23 different titles, but rather, 4 and a wide numbering chaos of an aardvark named Cerebus. Sense dread as the initial plan to find some great wrapping paper gives way to prosperity.
Wednesday, 17 December 2003
Catching a decent television break has become a little harder and made things a little later. With no thanks to the viewing habits, a block that starts at The Bold and The Beautiful doesn't find rest until the end of That '70s Show. King of Queens is back and Doug's cousin looks like he's his brother. My Wife and Kids was strapped with "the new Cosby Show" and looks like the set/house was taken from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. With it being the non-ratings period there was the hope that even the weak shows wouldn't get cut after one or two episodes. MDs was not the case. Just like Scrubs, but with leanings toward drama more than comedy. Yvette Duncan does her thing with the SMS competitions and looks like she's either deaf, hard of hearing or can't hear herself.
At least Farscape is back on. Finding it is another matter.
Thursday, 11 December 2003
For only forty hot dollars, a rather messy man was offering the carpark customers a bargain steal. Hot off the hands of someone and transported under clearance, two digital answering machines and one printer. No outlets were available and, according to the man, no pawn/hock shops were open at the time. There was one around the corner that was just putting away the loose front wheeled bikes. No boxes, no cartons, no display, just the back off a lonely shopping trolley. The seller must have been ripped off if he thought what he was selling was worth over $400. Not even retail.
Tuesday, 9 December 2003
Niche Media are some sort of publishing company coming out of the state of Victoria and have a focus on design and Macs like Desktop and MacWorld. They have cards like any other publishing company that fall out when reading a magazine. So does CLEO, but it's from ACP in Sydney. One was a bright orange card declaring, "She's Smart, She's Sexy, She's CLEO." She's coming your way, Niche.
Thursday, 4 December 2003
The Alumni and Graduate Services of UWS wanted to know what happens to the graduands following their ceremony. Since a degree in Art was not in the first plan of attack on that front the mood now has become a sort of fixation in what kind of positive response they are hoping for. What is the standard joke about art graduates? Whatever that is they didn't have an expired coupon or voucher for their store. At least there were a few from Dominos and Pizza Hut. KFC was thrown in for a close approximation toward a joke. That is what they'll be getting for a response on their outgoing student job market success. A lie above a status.
Thursday, 4 December 2003
Whether or not these little plastic windows on envelopes are recylable are hard to find an answer for. Ripping through 50 or so envelopes courtesy of planting the seeds only a year ago netted a rather messy pile of flimsy plastic used in the production of the lazy favour's envelope of choice. With all this plastic and appearance going on the three reply paid envelopes from American Express International and Citibank Ready Credit were screaming for some sort of married response. As such, they will be getting envelopes filled with nothing more than the plastic used in envelopes. A sort of credit on actual paper.
Thursday, 4 December 2003
The Australian Shoppers Survey comes around every year and usually contains the same questions about cats, tampons and car washes. More often than not the results of the survery are sent off to make money from and the poor bastards giving out their real names winds up with a year round mailing list appearance that never stops unless someone wants it to. In light of this fact, returning their way in one of their reply paid envelopes are a few job ads using and advertising through one or two agencies.
Thursday, 4 December 2003
The coffee stand is gone. Yet the vacancy is still there.
Tuesday, 2 December 2003
Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
Feel free to ask questions on any topic. Or spend some quality killswitch time poking about reading the vintage synapses
Or maybe a torrid trail of job interviews?
Elementary Funk by Soon Van is licensed under a Creative Commons License. Feel free to read up on the scope of the copyright over the posts and photos.
Really need to catch up on reading some comics