BAD COPS, BAD DRUNKS, TRANNIES AND TIT JOBS.

FANTASTIRAMA.

Have I ever mentioned how great Futurama is?

And also Archer. If you've never watched Archer, go do it now.

God I love adult animation... it's the best.

“Squeezers?... SQUEEZERS! They're CLAMPS, you F&%$!

If I wanna f&%$in snip with these clamps, I will Snip with these F&%$in Clamps!”

*

BAD COP.

Ok, so this Central Otago POLICEMAN got caught filming a teenager in the shower at the house using his police-issue phone, as you'll read in the photo.

What pisses me off about this is that he got name suppression in court.

I understand the need to protect the victim, and perhaps this was something the victim wanted... but REALLY?? Fuckheads like this need to be named and shamed...

*

SO MANY SHOWS... SO LITTLE TIME.

I have been house-sitting this week. It's been part bliss, part opportunity for me to take stock in the direction of my life, part opportunity to wallow in the lack of it.

Also, they have cable television which is... like... total brain drain.

Kourtney and Khloe Take The Hamptons has been a guilty pleasure. Watching re-runs of Absolutely Fabulous has just been a pleasure.

"Have you had a Really Bad tit job?"

Downside? Waking in the middle of the night to the cat throwing up on the carpet and not being able to get all of the stain out. Ugh.

It has definitely inspired me to get my own place again. Without a cat of course.

So cute... so allergic.

*

BAD DRUNKS.

The weekend before last was my Aunty's 60^th birthday party. She's a boozer, so it was a boozy night. But booze has it's downsides. Dammit.

It was a good afternoon and night, until some people had that one beer too many and had to go and make it all about themselves.

Firstly her daughter, that has all but been disowned from the family anyway because of her downright ludicrous behaviour when she's pissed, decided to show up. Pissed. After her mother had been around that morning and expressly forbid her from coming to the party. After she had gotten pissed the night before, gone around to her mother's and laid into her calling her a slut.

She promptly got told to Fuck Off by her brother and sisters, and proceeded to scream and yell and make a scene. But she did eventually leave.

What people need to realise is that when someone is drunk and demanding attention like that, you have to ignore them, or you're just buying into it and feeding their need.

When everyone ran outside to go have a looksee, I told them all to get back inside and stop making her feel justified.

Secondly my 16 year old cousin was going around stealing drinks off tables and blatantly walking around with them. He also had been left at home and told not to come, but also had to make it all about himself and ended up conning other family members to bring him. He ended up drunk, got told to stop drinking, and proceeded to throw a tantrum and storm off down the main road smashing shop windows.

Another cousin and I tried to go after him but he was running and away and hiding, and after about 5 minutes I thought 'Bugger This' and rang the cops on his ass.

Fuck it. They can deal with it.

No sooner had I shook that off and gone back to the pub, I start enjoying myself once and again and my brother and other cousin have had that one beer too many and decided to start having a go at each other.

I'm trying to split them up, but when he started telling other cousins they were sluts, ugly, etc, I once again thought “Fuck this,” and went back inside to enjoy my night and drink my beer.

By that stage I was so over bad drunks -

and let's face it, that's what they are: Bad Drunks who can't handle their piss -

that I just wanted to do what I had gone there to do, and that was enjoy myself at my Aunty's birthday party.

And so I sat in the garden bar out the back... alone... listening to the crowd outside crash and bang and scream and yell and fight, shaking my head in disappointment.

Fuckin drunks...

Why can't everyone just get Happy!  And Dance!  And Fuck!  Like Me!

What is WITH this fuckin anger management puff out your chest Bullshit...

It's soooo WEAK.

You hear me Bad Drunks out there?

You're not Tuff, or Cool, or Impressive...

...

You're WEAK.

*

GEORGIE GIRL.

The Events Centre has started these weekly screenings of Kiwi made doco's and films, and last week they played Georgie Girl. It's a doco about Georgina Bayer – the first transsexual Mayor of Carterton slash The World, and subsequently the first transsexual Member of Parliament of New Zealand slash The World.

I had been invited by my friends' gay dads, who are old friends with Georgina, and with whom Georgina was staying. I went over to theirs a couple hours early, we had drinks and nibbles, and then went to the Event Centre, where half the town had turned up to see it... and then where we were told it was sold out.

I just laughed at the fact that they had invited me about a week earlier and hadn't thought to get tickets.

Georgina tried to pull some strings but to no avail, so within 5 minutes were turning around and going home again... only to get a phone call once we were there saying “Hey, I've got you seats, come back,”, and within another 5 minutes we were in the front row next to the guest of honour.   LOL.

The doco itself is very honest stuff. She talks about her childhood, her disconnect from feeling like a boy, her first discovery of a gay club that had drag queens, and realisation she too could do that too, her surgery, her rape, her acting, her political career...

Great doco.

I was about 8 or 9 was when Georgina first moved to town, and she quickly became good friends with my best friends Mother (one of my many 2^nd Mothers). I remember her arrival into our lives clearly, because I had always felt pretty odd being a boy growing up, went through phases of wanting to be a girl, and suddenly there was this person in our lives that we had never witnessed the likes of before.

I remember us lined up basically staring slack-jawed at Georgina, and after she'd gone we bombarded 2^nd Mother with questions – was she a girl or boy?...

what do you mean she used to be a boy?...

you mean you can do that???...

It was the most eye opening thing to ever happen to me, just her coming to town...

but the fact that she went on to become the elected mayor of the town that I'd always hated growing up... it really did blow my mind.

She showed me that absolutely anything was possible.

If a Maori Transsexual could move to a small rural town, and become well-liked and respected enough to be ELECTED THE MAYOR by a primarily white, heterosexual, small-town community... well then surely I could be myself out in the big wide world.

And I was. And I was liked in spite of it.

And I've never publicly thanked her for that.

I wish I could have gushed to her in person after the screening, but alas, many were vying for her attention so I did what I do and gave her space...

I hate being a blatant fan-boy...

Ugh.

*

Black Dog Strikes Again.

Feeling pret-ty fucking low at the moment.  Despite my best efforts to make this year all about pushing for positivity, and despite taking all the steps I can toward that, my brain is just FILLED with all sorts of evil crap - otherwise known as the kind of thoughts that drive you into suicidal depression.
Here's an example:
*You're nothing but a fat piece of shit that's wasted his life.
*Look at you, you're 37, you live with your cousin, and you have NOTHING to show for your life.
*That little trip to Auckland to add $5k to your student loan and meet someone potentially perfect for you and then fuck it up was a brilliant move, wasn't it.  Well done loser.
*No wonder all your friends aren't interested in you anymore... why would they be??  They're tired of carrying your ass.
*Maybe you were just meant to be broke and alone.
*Maybe you should just kill yourself and release your family from the embarrassment of you, and society from the drain of you.
.....
I know all these thoughts.  Me and them go waaaaay back.  Although I always manage to fight them off - actually, that's not true, I only manage to get past the day, and the next one, and the next, but the thoughts are always there - I can't seem to get rid of them.  I struggle to get to a place where I can accept them as Untrue.  Always.
It's always when I'm at my lowest that other people seem to want more of me also.  That's always been the way, I am FOREVER trying to squeeze more energy for others when I can barely breathe myself.  And what's more, these others don't even notice half the time, or just won't take no for an answer.
So many people knocking on my door wanting something out of me, but never to see how I am, or how they can help.
Once Upon A Time I would talk to my friends when I'm feeling like this, and they would dutifully make me feel better like good friends should.  But these days... these days they're all Parents, or have busy careers - ie. I don't feel like I can dump my unimportant self-loathing problems on them anymore.  I know how hard it is to raise children.  I also know that when you have children, you're only half-listening to anything anyone else says anyway, and at any moment they will drop out of your emotional crisis to say things like "Sorry, just got to deal with this for a sec, THE JUICE IS IN THE CUPBOARD, WHERE IT ALWAYS IS, I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOUR SHOES ARE, HAVE YOU LOOKED UNDER THE BED?, Ok, sorry about that, what were you talking about?  I'm listening!"  Which just makes you feel like you shouldn't have bothered in the first place and leaves you more traumatised than ever.
I went to my Doctor yesterday to talk about getting back on anti-depressants - turns out my Doctor was away and in his place was an intern who was probably no older than myself.  I had to explain to him why I needed my medical certificate renewed (ie. dredge through my whole spinal history and the daily pain it gives me), which just made me feel worse because I HATE having to justify why I can't stand or sit comfortably for more than a few hours.  I was also hating the thought running through my head -
"So... this guy's your age and he's a DOCTOR.  And what are you again??  A beneficiary "writer".  Fucking Awesome.  You're AWESOME."
He was a friendly guy though and understood my disability without too much bother... and then proceeded to say "Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem a bit down.  Are you keeping well, are you looking after yourself?"
And I nearly burst into tears.  I really had to fight not to do that.  I thanked him for his concern, told him I had some depression issues, but I would really rather talk to my own Doctor about that.  He completely understood and wished me the best, and were he not an intern on placement for 6 months, I probably would have made him my new Doctor on the spot.
Purely based on the fact that he wasn't pushing me out of his office as soon as he'd finished...  Plus he was kinda hot.
In all sincerity I don't think medication is the answer (been there, done that, and life was still rough as fuck), but maybe it will help ease the struggle of shutting the evil thoughts out.
My biggest, BIGGEST issue, of course, is the pain of a bent spine that only gives me more and more grief as I get older.  People REALLY just don't get it, and they take shit so personally.
"Wanna come over?"
No, says I - not because I don't want to... but because I know what your furniture is like, it isn't good for me, and it isn't conducive to me sitting around for hours on it getting grumpier while you do all the talking and drain me even further.  Fucking Energy Vampires...
I used to take morphine for the pain, but of course the dose just goes up and up as you get used to it, and then I got judged by the very medical profession that was prescribing it for me.  Fuckin junkie.
Besides, that wasn't a cure.  Just a band-aid.
There is no cure.  I'm basically fucked and the only way I can get "better" is to work my brain to shove pain to the side and try and be happy about life... which is, like, so fucking easy.
Then I look at people in wheelchairs, or people with no limbs, and they somehow seem to be getting on with life... maybe they don't have pain, who knows, but I know I'm not the worst off on the planet.  I also know that despite my best efforts to try and help myself up on follow-my-dreams-do-what-I-love-to-make-money-and-make-life-easier, it just never seems to pan out.
I guess what I'm saying is - Fuck You Life.  You're a fucking Bitch.
There.  I said it.
...
and now I'm breathing... I'm breathing...
...
I'm over it.
...
Well...  not really.  But I do feel slightly better.
...
slightly.
*

DIGITAL ADDICTION. SEXUAL DEPRAVITY.

*

So now that I am superior to you all because I have given up Crackbook (except for those rare few who never joined in the first place and have steadfastly stayed on that boat - kudos), I had to find other things to do with my time.
One of those things has obviously been writing my blog again, but other things have included me trying to find a wider audience for my blog through... well... social media.
Since giving up my crackbook addiction, I have really devoted a lot of time to my Instagram account.  With crackbook I only stuck with people I knew, and didn't say "YES" to requests from strangers.
With Instagram, it's the complete opposite.  I'm basically using it as a means to create a fan base for A. This Blog, and B. Gather interest in DARK VALLEY.
For those of you who don't know what DARK VALLEY is, it is a fictional series concept I have been working on for years.  It began life as a hobby while I was in high school, and is basically a demented soapish-mystery series based Very loosely on myself and my friends.  While it was a hobby, over the course of about 3 years while I was finishing high school and my first year away from home, I managed to run up episode synopsis..es (what is the plural of synopsis anyway??) for 13 seasons, each containing 30 episodes.  That's 390 episode plots.
That's excessive.
Melrose Place was a favourite at the time, and if you know anything about it, you'll know that their plots were ludicrous, yet addicting.  I strove to surpass this high-bar.
About 7 years ago (jesus), after studying writing, and theatre, and acting, I came full circle and dug out the pile of DARK VALLEY synopsisees and began refining it into a pitch I could take to production companies and try and get my dream fulfilled and get it made into a television drama series.
It didn't take.  I've been given many shit reasons as to why this show "can't be funded at present", but I can hardly blame them because nobody can appreciate the vision I have for this world as much as me.
After going to film and television school and finding out firsthand afterwards just how rough the industry actually is (If you don't know anyone, you're fucked - I didn't), I've tried to let the dream die a slow death, but let's face it... if you have a passion, and an innate belief in something, you really can't.  It just eats away at your soul, like a parasite, until you are either forced to kill yourself or dust off the dream and get back to it.
I couldn't find a knife sharp enough to slit my wrists, but I did come across the duster while I was looking, so... the latter it had to be.
Because in essence DARK VALLEY is a story that I have GOT to get out of my system, I have begun to just write it.  No episode structure, no script structure, just... write the story.
In the coming months I will try to post some of this story per month on it's own site, but in the meantime, I have been building a - cough - fan-base on Instagram.
Which, in a paradox I don't particularly like, takes up a lot of time.  One might even call it a replacement addiction to crackbook...

*
And now I shall talk about some of my most favourite profiles on Instacrack.  In no particular order, here's ten.

1. IAMINFECTUS - Jesus Christ!  A fashion editor based in Milan, his pictures are off the hook, and quite frankly I don't understand how you jigsaw larger pictures in like that with the little ones, although now that I've said it out loud I'm sure I can figure it out.  He's awesome.  Check it.

 2. GEMINI_SCORPIO - Gemini's are a bit rubbish, but Scorpio's aren't, and for this you gotta take the good with the bad.  Colourful, interesting pics of boobs, buildings, and other just-plain-weird shit.

3. PASSIONTRIBE - Because sometimes you just need an uplifting, motivational wordpic.

4. THISISNOTIKEA - Not usually overly interested in a business doing advertising for its wares, but this vintage furniture shop in L.A. really does have cool and interesting shit.

5. ROIBSTER - Mountain Biker in Croatia posting AMAZING pics of his rides amongst nature.  Cool sunsets-through-trees and the like.  Very Purty.

6. WATERFALLSANDCARIBOUS - These two are old friends of mine who have been traveling the world and recently re-relocated back to Wellington.  Although their Instacrack is fairly dismal in terms of posts (7?? pfft), their blog is Awesome, all about their love of travel, and finding good coffee on their travels, and you should go read it.
www.waterfallsandcaribous.com

7. NOISYDESPERATION - InstaArt at it's finest.  Go see.

8. ALANINTERFACE - A Designer Dad in Dunedin who's every pic is interesting and awesome.

9. JOSEFRAKICH and JEREMY_MOSER_FITNESS - Because they're two of the original fitness gurus I used to inspire me when I used to actually workout proper.  And they're fuckin hot.

10. GLAMFATHER - InstaArt at the next level.  Off the hook, spectacular amazingness awaits.

*

And now, back to me.

Just as an expansion on my previous ranting about hosting...
In a year that's all about pushing for positivity, I've decided to indulge my lighter side of life and have a rant about all the hosting things I ABSOLUTELY AND UTTERLY APPRECIATE about the friends and family in my life who DO get it right.

I LOVE when I do visit friends, and they buy and/or make you an utterly fabulous and delicious meal that is accompanied by ludicrous amounts of alcohol and a pre-arranged sleeping area. Which is about 98% of the time. My friends ROCK.

I have collected myself fucking GRADE A-CLASS peeps that I am proud and honoured to call my friends. Like... seriously. You could introduce me to all the most amazing people in the world, and I would lap it up and then go tell my friends about it. Cause NO ONE beats them.

You know who you are bitches. I looooooove you.

*
The woman behind the counter at the Carterton Library REALLY needs to watch who she is talking about in public...  I am sitting here listening to her slam off local businesses for their shit service.  Which, yes, I do all the time because shit service is right up there in my Top 5 Things To Hate, but... would I ever do that while I was working locally in a very public position where all and sundry can hear me?? HELL NO.  You do that shit over a beer at the pub, or over dinner at home.  NOT while you are working in a public place down the road from said business you are slamming and have no idea who could be listening.  Little ratbags like ME, for example.
*

I don't know if it's just the heat of summer getting to me or what, but lately I have been wanting to indulge in some really DEPRAVED sexual activity.  Like, break out the bondage and ball-gags and ropes and throw in a couple of extra people and just be totally Used type shit. And vice-versa.

I suppose that's fairly normal sexual activity for anyone who Does indulge in this kinda stuff on a regular basis, but man...

I haven't gone that dark during sex before... granted, there's been the odd leather-sling here and there, but mostly it's been pretty vanilla.

I want to get CRAZY on it.  Like, REALLY push the boundaries.

...Just thought you'd all like to know.

I have a couple of candidates who are interested in schooling me and/or letting me indulge in my "DO WHAT I SAY, BITCH!" side...

I'll let you know how I go with that :)

Yes - I am Totally thinking with my dick lately.

Stay classy Bitches.

*

You better host, bitch.

Ok, so the last couple of days were interesting, and confirmed what I have often thought about the following subject – Host Responsibility.

I'm not talking about the legal kind that you have to do if you're in the Hospitality trade. I'm talking about good old fashioned, down on the farm, here's a blanket, there's the bread, Looking After Your Guests.

Perhaps it's because I'm from a large Maori whanau that I just grew up with this innate understanding that if you have someone to stay at your house, you make sure they are fed, and bedded, and free to access either of those things at any time of the day, whether you are there or not.

Not only does this apply to your family members, but ya best mates as well, who are after all the family you choose and go through life with, and should therefore be treated as such.

I'm not saying roll out the red carpet and wipe their arses.

I'm saying Yo, this my house, jugs over there, beds in there, help yaself.

What I've noticed lately, within the gay crowd almost exclusively all the gay friends I have pretty much live off food they can buy in town, and their houses are usually pretty depleted of edible food (although well stocked with alcohol and internet). So although they might get you drunk and give you their wi-fi password, they are pretty much useless when it comes to the making sure your guest is fed part. A lot of them only seem to eat at night also, like some kind of disco-vampire, and if they don't do it before they drink you can pretty much kiss dinner-time goodbye.

I'm probably sounding really rude here by saying all of this – like an ungrateful pratt one might say. I need to at this point present the other side of my coin, which basically goes something like this:

Friend: 'Hey, travel and stay with me.'

Me: 'Na can't mate, I'm a broke bitch and really can't afford it but thank you anyway'.

Friend: 'Don't worry about it mate, I/We'll look after you.'

Me: 'No, really, I'd pretty much only have train fare to get there and back, and I don't want to be dependant on you.'

Friend: 'Mate, don't be stupid, it's all good, I got this covered, just come'.

Me: 'No, really, thank you but no.

Friend: 'You're coming. Just get on the train and do it. Don't worry about a thing'.

Me: 'Alright, alright, I'll do it. Thank You.'

I think I have finally learnt my lesson this summer. Just stick to your original gut instinct and stay the fuck away - unless it's tight family and or friends who say these things, because these are the people you can literally stand in front of an open fridge and whine that they have nothing to eat, and they will 9 times of 10 fix the problem for you and feed your whinging fuckhole so you'll shut up.

For example – I recently met someone online, chatted and texted and messaged and phone-called for a couple of weeks, and then we decided to meet. It was one of those above situations where my lack of money wasn't a problem and just do it. They had been texting me all morning about the bbq meal they were going to make us, and that they had bought vodka and this and that, and what a great night we were going to have. Now that all sounds pretty good, right? Pretty normal sort of stuff that you'd do if you were having friends over for dinner.

I arrived and we went for a drive to the beach, where we proceeded to talk and laugh and have a great afternoon out in the sun by the water, which, FYI, is probably number 2 on my list of favourite things to do (you can take a guess about what number 1 is – don't strain ya brain over it). We go back to their place, we proceed to have a cocktail and by my third I had a good buzz on and began to think eating was probably a good idea at this point. We all know that if you don't, you have that one drink that just kills all hunger and thought of eating and puts you in the drink-til-you-inevitably-pass-out zone. Which is pretty much what happened next...  To them.

I'm at a semi-strangers house (although you can feel pretty chummy with someone after a couple weeks of digital lip service), feeling pretty horny if I'm completely honest, and feeling like that might be reciprocated (also through a couple weeks of digital lip service and a bit of a grope and kiss session during cocktail making), and before you know it they are completely drunk and asleep on the only couch while their two large dogs are well and truly parked up on the unmade bed and you are left in the situation of being starving, and freezing, with nowhere to sleep. And no way of getting home, or even out of the suburbs you are trapped in, until the morning.

And the even worse situation of them not remembering a thing the next morning and completely oblivious to the fact that A. you've had a shit barely-sleep on the chair all the while hating the fuck out of their fucking dogs and B. you are still starving.

And C. Totally confused about the fucking paradoxical line between what they're saying and what they're doing. I couldn't have gotten more mixed signals if I was a fucking NASA satellite.

What. Is Up. With That.

NEXT.

Another recent stay with friends started out really well as we partied away the NY's, but come the 3^rd and they were still pretty much in bed and I was trapped at their house with nothing but Christmas chocolate and biscuits. That is until one of them finally came good on his all-day threat to go into town and get some food (at 9pm that night) and they ended up getting a box of frozen pies. Which he then grilled. So they were burnt on top and frozen inside.

43 years old and ZERO idea how to MAKE HOT a frozen pie.

I mean COME OOOOOOOOOONNNNNNN...

They'd also promised to get me home but by day 4 with no sign of remembrance from them, and then getting a brush-off when I asked, I was forced to (UGH – I really fucking HATE doing this too) get in touch with my 19 year old sister and ask to borrow money to get my stranded ass home.

People REEEEEEEEAAAAAAALLY don't get disabilities if they're not obvious. For me in particular, if I don't eat, my spine feels literally depleted of spinal fluid or something, and it gets really sore and gravity gets noticeably harder to deal with. Same with lack of, or an uncomfortable, sleep. No Fuel in the tank equals fucked spine equals hideously-grumpy-and-in-pain-but-can't-show-it-for-fear-of-seeming-like-a-Princess-ingrate cunt.

But if people don't get constant-body-pain issues, then they Really just don't Get It.

...It's not easy being green.

*

By the way, although I'm a dog lover? I am really... REALLY... over people putting their dogs before other people. Or more to the point, allowing their dogs priority over other human beings, or allowing them to behave badly or annoyingly to the point you are telling the dog to stop whatever they're doing (licking your face or refusing to get our of your crotch, for example), and are then made to feel like the bad guy because you are being “mean” to their precious pooch all because you didn't want fucking dog slobber all over your face.

My Nana really grinds my gears on this. I've told her many a time that I am pretty allergic to cats and dogs, even though I often don't let that stop me because I also Love some dogs and all cats, but at a family dinner I'll be dying because her dog (which is like the dog version of the cute, spoilt, bratty cousin you never liked) is sitting at my feet and my nose and eyes are running like mad, and she'll be completely offended if I try and move it away from me or, worse, ask to put it outside – usually where, you know, all the other dogs are.

Sorry Dog Lovers, but get a fucking grip. Dogs are Pets, and Yes, you can love them all you want, but I or Anyone Else shouldn't have to suffer because of that, either allergically or aggressively physically intrudingly, and You shouldn't fucking let that happen either. If someone is allergic, and you've invited them around to your house, then do that PERSON a favour and put your fucking dog outside or somewhere else for the duration of their visit. The dog will fucking live without your presence for an hour, and so will you, I ASSURE you.

Just to reiterate – I do not hate dogs. I hate stupid people behaviour creating stupid dog behaviour. The bar was set pretty high for me because my parents had two (now one) of the most intelligent, well behaved Border Collies in existence, and now that I know it's possible, I expect nothing less.

So get better with your dogs, stupid humans.

*

Musings of Madness.

*

I am totally addicted to Big Brother Australia.  Although given half the chance, I'd probably be totally addicted to Big Brother Insert-Any-Other-Country-Here, given they were speaking English mind (what kind of Heathens don't, am I right??  Self-5.)

I am totally addicted to the point that I missed a couple of episodes, then watched them online, then carried straight on into a marathon of Big Brother spanning about 9 hours just watching right to the end, because the version on TV playing here was already behind, and I already wasn't able to help myself by looking up the winner anyway.  By the way, Ryan?  Meh.  I'd have preferred Skye - Imagine the mess she might have become given a 200k chance.
It's not that I'm particularly addicted to any of the individuals in the house.  In fact, this years round of housemates verged on Boring most of the time.  What I find fascinating and addicting is the social imprisonment going on, and how going stir-crazy affects them, and throwing in some ridiculous challenges to keep them on their toes and/or from going More stir crazy, and/or feed/starve them for a week.  All to further test the craziness.  It's Crazy, CRAZY I tell you!

And I LOVE it.

I would TOTALLY go into the Big Brother house given half an opportunity.  Hell, if I won lotto I would probably pour a large chunk of it into building and producing a Big Brother New Zealand and then make myself a housemate.  Just because I could, bitch.

I have No idea if I would last the distance, given that whether you stay or not is completely based on the nation judging your ass and deciding if they want to see your ugly mug on the telly every night.  But I do know I would at least be great entertainment.  I don't even think a "strategy" as such can exist in the house, from my many years of research (cough).  I see people trying to do that, and sure, you can manipulate elements of the situation, but by and large your fate is entirely out of your hands, so I'd just have to hope that I was giving everyone a bit of a laugh and a shock and making interesting TV and hope for the best.  I think I could win... Of course, there is always the chance that I might create the very first Big Brother House of Slaughter if I went postal (because let's face it - the psychotherapyologist guys who assess the mental stability of the housemates would have been entirely paid off by me to begin with, so who knows how crazy I could actually go, WHO. KNOWS).

*

I have been totally third-wheeling of late.  Ie. Sexing with one half of a couple and then sexing with the other half when they get jealous and/or you feel guilty about it.  Yowza.  Better cut that out.  Gettin' too old for awkward fallout-drama... or so books have told me.

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Something I'm really hating at the moment - Growing Old and Getting Fat.  Jesus Christ.
I didn't think I wasn't going to age, don't get me wrong, but never, never in a million years would I have believed I would get fat.  And here's the worst part, I'm still only 70kg give or take, but that seems to fluctuate wildly between high 60's and mid 70's, and I know it's still not that much, but on a little guy like me, it's really obvious, and it only goes to one place... it's not like my Ass got bigger, or my calves.  Just this strap of flab wrapped around my waist like a needy child, refusing to let go.  What I should be doing is turning this new weight into muscle, seeing as I couldn't put on weight to save myself before I hit my mid-30's.  A solid 58kg from as soon as I stopped growing.  Ate like a trooper and went to the gym and still couldn't put on weight.  And now that I have it looks totally out of place.  I've realised that about 64kg is probably around the perfect weight for me.  Fucking weight, I can't even believe I'm going on about it at all.  Not something I've EVER had to think about before, nor is it something I like thinking about either.
I don't believe in New Years Resolutions or shit like, but I DO believe in shifting your mindstate, and pushing for more positivity and happiness in life.  If something is wrong (and you can), fix it.  So, it's baby steps, but I am slowly getting back into an exercise regime (and by slowly, I mean snail pace).  I have to pretty much condition my body to get used to exercise before I start really going at it, but like I said, small steps, and I am already feeling better, and I know the "zone" you have to get into still exists in my brain, because it seeing me through the preparation stages, so... go me.  Whether or not the scales are sticking is up for debate, but today I seem to be in the high 60's which is great.  Man, the things you have time for when you aren't cracking on facecrack anymore.  Boom.

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Is it just me, or does Summer make everyone super-fucking-horny.  Like, 15 year old schoolboy locked in a closet with ya drunk girlfriend horny.
Thankfully I'm having a good run this year, so I'm so not going as stir crazy as I could be with blue-balls, but still... I'm constantly having to hide my bulge.  What is it with this heat...

The tent's so big in ya pants, baby

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I'm Back, Bitches. Hopefully for good.

Revival 2.

RAAAAAR!!!
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Yes.  I'm alive.  Although whether or not I'm living is a different story.
Let's recap.  Since June last year I have been in my first play in ten years as an actor.
I hated it.  The director was stale, obvious in their choices, and basically too old, blind and deaf to be doing it.  Lovely lady, bad director.  We clashed.  Lol.
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A couple of weeks before opening, my precious Granddad passed away.
He had had Alzheimers disease for about 9 years, and we had a long time to get used to the fact that the Granddad we knew and loved was gone.  He was just a shell of a man in those last few years, but boy did he hold on.  It's amazing that even after 9 years of knowing he was dying, and wanting the end to come, when it did come it was no less of a shock, no less hurt.  Sure, we were glad he wasn't suffering anymore... Hell, in the end there were a couple of moments when I was alone in the room with him and genuinely considered putting a pillow over his head and ending it for him.  But it really did suck when he did go...
He wasn't the most perfect husband or father... He was war-torn, and a drunk, and violent, and did what he could to keep his ever expanding family in line.  But my Aunty said his attitude changed once he got his first Grandchild, and as Grandchildren, we really did get the best of him.  He never said much, but when he did, you listened, and it was worth it.
I had a moment in the early drunken hours of 2015 realising this was going to be the first year of my life without him in it.  It was sobering.
I will miss you forever Kingi.  I love you to the end of the time.

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Then I went back to rehearsals... it's a very uneasy feeling, knowing you are in a bad show.  It's the first time that's ever happened to me!  As opening night neared all the problems that were blatant as fuck to me suddenly became blatant as fuck to everyone else, including our very nervous director.  But as a cast we banded together and tried to fix the problems, learn how to save each other when someone is stuck... all the stuff we should have had under control weeks before.
Reactions were mixed... some fell asleep and left at half time (don't blame them).  Others really enjoyed it.  Or endured it (in the case of family or friends who couldn't be dissuaded from coming).
Then of course as soon as it was over I was bored again.  I'm lined up for an amazing show that's on in August.  It's a kiwi play by Maurice Shadbolt called 'Once On Chanuk Bair' about the Wellington regiment of soldiers trying to keep the foothold hill of Chanuk Bair in Gallipoli during WWI.
It's a strong play, I have a great character, and I will try my best to honour my Grandfather with this show.  Some might say it's a shame he won't be around to see it.  But truth be told, he wouldn't have had a clue what was going on even if he was around.  In fact I imagine that in the state he was in, it may have deeply upset him - the war was Not something he ever talked about (to me at least - truth be told, War didn't interest me growing up, so I wouldn't have asked anyway).  But I hope I can bring some truth to the performance from now knowing about what he went through.  I'm looking forward to it.
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Have been trying to no avail to find work that suits my bodies capabilities.  Will keep on pushing this year, and in the meantime, commit to continuing to work on Dark Valley - the book version.
Got sick of pitching and episode structure and producers giving me shitbox reasons as to why my show isn't worthy of funding.  Whatever.  It is, in essence, a story that is busting to get out of my system, so I'm just going to write it.  Maybe it will become the tv show I dream of it being after that, but at least I will have gotten it out by writing it.
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Have given up my facebook addiction to help things along there.  6 days cold turkey and actually, I have discovered, I am fine without it!  Lo and behold!  I don't even Care what you had for breakfast anymore!  Admittedly the first day I kept going to log in and then going "oh yeah, that's right..." but now... you would never know I was there at all.  It's a bit of a pain in the arse as far as my Farm Heroes Saga addiction goes, but whatevs, I'm sure I'll get over that also.
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Went to Welly for NY's.  Had a blast.  Got laid (always a bonus).  Made me think I could live there again, easily.  Although that's easy when you're in a nice house and it's Summer - the weather is so shithouse usually...
Made some new friends which is always good...  Saw a few old ones too, which is even better.
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Came home after a week to a burst hot water tank in my cousins house, although in true ghetto fashion, no one is actually doing anything about it.  The whanau needs hot water, so it's not even turned off.  The landlord knows but apparently doesn't care, or at least isn't in a rush to do anything about it.  So in the meantime the solution is to clear the room the tank is in and let it leak everywhere.  Awesome... That will end well, huh.  Can't see AAAAAANNNNNNY problems there...
Common sense is not a strong point in that household...  For real.
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Question: should I create a new blogsite where I post DARK VALLEY piece by piece?  Try and lure in interest, and perhaps fan motivation will keep me going?  Or am I ruining my chances of a published novel if I do that (ie. not getting paid for it)?  Well, the answer is yes to that last part, I just want to know what people think.  Net or Paper.
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That is all.  For now.
Hope you are all having a great 2015 so far, and may we all strive for betterment.