
On-board shenanigans during a break in my 24-hour on-off community radio massacre with @somtum. We didn't know if other shows were going to turn up or not. When they did we pissfarted around on public transport, climbed statues and played cricket with some Indians. I was bowled by a fullish delivery that I tried to smash onto La Trobe Street.

My bookshelf in St Kilda. There's got to be something embarassing in there that I didn't consider. And look at the wild VHS collection. I think I numbered it for a blow-by-blow blog deconstruction on my life that has since been lost.

I won this tennis racket off SEN for winning a "what country is this arena in?" quiz. Came in at question 1 and ran the next ten non-stop. Didn't want it so decided to sell it on Ebay with a gimmick photo. Got me $160 you know.

Tsunami relief 20/20 cricket match between Melbourne and Collingwood. Why? I had a bonanza of a hangover I can remember that.

My ludicrous setup in St Kilda. Pure filth. That's what happens when somebody first moves out of home. Note the wildcard inclusion of Mario doing the Goatse man on the computer screen. You know that place was as big as my loungeroom but had 13 powerpoints. THIRTEEN. Why? I have no idea but you should have seen my power bill.

And here's what I did with all those powerpoints. This sat right next to my bed for 18 months and did untold damage to my brain.

The St Kilda wall. Magnificent collection of posters (all now lost sadly), but an absolutely disgraceful uneven placement. Young AND stupid.

Sadly lost graffiti at the corner of Gertrude and Nicholson Street, Fitzroy. Sound advice.

Ahh me and my first car. Poor old cubed Pierre. And yes, I already had an obsession with wearing masks but had not yet discovered the Mexican wrestling variety.

A really old one here. Scanned from a page in my year 7 school journal in response to homeroom arseclown Old Man Hale declaring himself "your bored teacher" after I wrote a scathing review of our bullshit school camp.

He's totally fucking that kid in the ear, but do you ever hear about that when they're discussing how bad a president he was?

The mini golf course at Wobbies World, taken when Somtum, Jelly and I jumped the fence to see what was left of the place fifteen years after it closed. The answer was everything. On the way out some ginger challenged us and refused to respond when I asked if he was Wobbie Jr. A few weeks later they bulldozed nearly everything. QUALITY TIMING.

You can tell how old this piece of blasphemy was not just from the fact that the Pope has died in the meantime, but because of that FUCKING ANCIENT IPOD! Another reason why I was loyal to the Creative Zen in that era.

Did I mention that I was obsessed with doing faux sinister posers?

In the good old days when people cared South Melbourne fans used to run to the fence in celebration when the side scored a goal. In a fit of contrary behaviour I decided to go the other way when they scored a winner from a spanking late free kick against St Albans.
Part two following... at some point in the next five years.
3 comments:
Pictures of abandoned Wobby's World? I demand moar!
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Lets cross the bridge when we come to it........................................
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