Procrastination is an art form.

I procrastinated for weeks before writing that sentence.

It took me another two weeks to write that one.

The thing about procrastination is, you can't fuck around. You need to devote yourself to it from the minute you wake up, to the second you lose consciousness. None of this, 'I'll get it done in the morning then lay about in the afternoon...' crap. You really need to leap out of bed and immediately start thinking about what you 'should be doing'. I find that making lists of goals you're not achieving and things you haven't done helps a lot.

It is very important to have a timepiece about. You really need to be able to see the minutes tick away. Simply losing a few hours is not true procrastination, that's just fucking up. You need to be aware of the time and then divvy out the minutes to be wasted.

It also helps if you talk to yourself.

'I'll just read this book until 1:30, then I shall start that assignment.'

'Best have something to eat first. Can't study on an empty stomach.'

'Ok, just this one cigarette, and a coffee, then I'll start.'

'I'll just play this game for half an hour, then it's right into it!'

'Shit, it's too hot to do anything right now, I'll start as soon as it cools down.'

Before you know it, you're dead.

Mission accomplished.

Yesterday, before the world had managed to drain my soul for the day, I headed off with a friend up into the mountains out the back of the Gold Coast.

I came up with two contrasting photos.

The fading glow of a Queensland sunset.



For greatest contrast I had to think carefully about the true nature of opposites. One might flippantly state that the opposite of a sunset is a sunrise. However, upon careful consideration one should realise that this is absolute bullshit. A sunset and a sunrise are virtually the same thing. The true opposite is this:



My friend having his leg humped by a dog.

Summer, spring, summer, autumn. It makes little sense I know, but these are the last four seasons I experienced. A hot summer of flooding downpours, mutinous children, and too much soju the night before. A spring of bewilderment, befuddlement and general avoidance of responsibility. A summer of penury, long drives and no fish. An autumn of flailing and conflicting emotions.

Give me a minute while this wine kicks in.

It’s been eight months since I returned and I’m really not sure what I have done with it. I left Korea because I felt stagnated, and tired with living in a culture to which I could never truly belong. I returned to a culture that now I don’t seem to fit. As a holiday destination, Australia was great in short doses, but living here I find it hard to pay for the prescription.

Studying again for the first time in six years, I enjoy the mental stimulation and learning something for which I have a great passion, yet university is different as a post grad student. Less drugs, sex, and rock and roll. More, ‘fuck I really have to find some direction.’

I’m 28 now, and I’ve had some experiences that people twice my age never have. I’ve stood at the top of the tallest building in Shanghai with a girl I thought I loved. At the top of the tallest buildings in Seoul, and watched the city resolve itself through the snow filled clouds while I sipped upon overpriced drinks. I wandered like a gigolo, but only for a weekend, in over priced Japan, and watched teeming masses of people scurry like insects below me from the tallest building in Osaka. I stood with my little sister in the howling wind at the top of the Empire State building in New York and felt the cold penetrate my bones as a million lights burnt their way into my retinas. I hired a boat in Thailand and jumped the waves out to an island in the ocean, where I hired a jet ski, ‘You crash - you pay ok?’

I’ve woken up in every country I’ve ever been too with no recollection as to how I got home. I’ve played dumb to police with machine guns in China when they stopped my taxi. I once asked an American GI who was twice my size in Suwon if he was a ‘professional pussy’ in the most endearing possible way. ‘Would you like to step outside and say that?’ Asked the GI. ‘Not really.’ Said I.

I’ve broken laws that maintain some fuckin’ stiff penalties. I’ve broken ribs in a taxi crash in Korea. I’ve been on TV in three countries that I know of. I’ve spent 3 hours on a mini bus certain I was going to die when it lunged over a cliff in China, while a stretched and strained father, held a plastic shopping bag open next to me while his two young children took turns vomiting into it.

I’ve drunk alcohol made from four different kinds of penis. I’ve eaten snake, turtle, raw liver, silk worm larvae, sheep testicle, duck tongue, chicken feet, eel, frog, cow intestine, every-fucking-thing that comes out of the sea including whale. I’ve given myself two black eyes on purpose. I’ve written my name using only a stream of urine in the snow. I’ve had passionate conversations about art and music with incredibly violent people. I’ve danced to music that I absolutely hate. I’ve met Korean rock stars.

I’ve run away from Molotov cocktails at a violent demonstration in Shinchon. I’ve swum illegally in the middle of the night in the Sea of Japan. I once ate sam gyup sal every night for a week. I’ve made 2000 bucks in one week. I saw three fatalities in one weekend trip in China. I’ve seen spent fireworks piled two meters high on the side of the street after lunar New Year. I’ve surfed waves in a sea of people who can’t swim at Caribbean bay in Korea on a public holiday without having gone to sleep the night before. I’ve paid 20 bucks for a beer. I’ve paid 50 cents for a beer.

I’ve felt not a care in the world. I’ve gone through stages where I cared for nothing in the world.

And then returning to Australia, I have to make this mean something.

I own no house. I have no children. I have no superannuation.

I’m finding it a little hard to find my place in this world.

It is my unfortunate duty to announce to the world that Kevin Kim (AKA Big Hominid, AKA that guy with the bulging eyeballs and the shit infatuation) lost his long running battle with DINGOS (Destructive Internal Nasty Great Orifice Syndrome), yesterday.

Kevin spent his last moments gently frolicking on a sandy beach, shortly before the disease reached critical stage. On-lookers were horrified, and were immediately put off their lunch after witnessing a giant dingo burst free from Big Hominid's Big Anus and leap upon him, devouring him where he stood.

One witness named only as Peemil, had this to say:

Holy fuck! It was fucking horrific, man. One minute he was gallivanting, carefree on the beach singing show tunes, and the next he was virtually split in half as a monstrous Canis Lupus erupted from his arse and turned upon him. Poor bastard never stood a chance, he couldn't run due to the enormous tear down his back, and the fucking dog just ate him whole. I dropped the goat I was rooting and just ran for the hills, man.

Medical authorities first on the scene claimed:

Sweet Jesus, this has to be the worst case of DINGOS I have ever seen. The poor unlucky fucker would have gone out in tremendous pain, but by the time we got there there was little we could do. I held his hand and told him he would be alright... and he was, that is until the dingo reached his heart. He looked into my eyes, selfless to the end and said, 'Save the wee goats, some madman is stealing their innocence!' Whatever the hell that may mean. Anyway we hosed the place down and re-opened it to the public. We do suggest however that the tourists don't feed the dingos.

Kevin's last moments captured tragically, yet poetically, on film.

No time for this bullshit today, I have to be writing an explication essay on Haruki Murakami's 'The Elephant Vanishes'.

Damn, I should have started this a week ago...

Anyway, tomorrow someone gets fed to wild dogs.

Tomorrow we feed Kevin to the Dogs...

Maybe.

Damn, get in line Peemil.

Another for the growing list of Photoshop based character assassinations. Unfortunately, it's a little hard with Peemil as he only has one picture showing half his face available... Unfortunately as he already looks like a psychopathic derelict in the only existing photo, I'm going to have to ponder this for a while.

Fuck, now more time is going to be wasted, when I really should be out finding some gainful way to support my thousand dollar a day smack habit.

Elisson admitted to owning a Honda Element.

With a bit of research I managed to find a photo of him driving his pride and joy.



The head gear is for protection, as well as improving the reception on the old AM radio.

Drive safe dude.

Wait... are those Firestones?

There was a man who had a dog and Dingo was his name - O
D. I. N. G. O.
D. I. N. G. O.
D. I. N. G. O.
A dingo ate my baby...

There was a guy who couldn't spell and Big Ho was his name - O
B. I. G. H. O.
B. I. G. H. O.
B. I. G. H. O.
Big Ho raised by Dingos...




Captions, witticisms, vitriolic abuse, and corrections in the comments section, people.

View the first two installments of Scro and Tum, here and here.










John Stewart can be contacted at Phatplastix(a)Hotmail.com

I went on an epic adventure over the last few days. There were cars, boats, and vast quantities of beer involved.

Unfortunately I forgot to bring a camera.

So just picture that in your mind.

I'm the wasted one in the middle trying to piss off the boat without falling in.

I got a new hitmeter with which to amuse myself the other day. Besides highlighting the pathetic trickle of visitors this site lures, it also lets me know how people find it.

At least fifty people a day come here looking for something else.

And they don't find it.

Let's play a little game. First, here is a list of places people come from:

Jakarta, Indonesia.

Dallas, Texas, US.

PUNE, MAHARASHTRA, INDIA.

San Jose, California, US.

Sydney, NSW, Australia

Sydney, NSW, Australia, again.

Somewhere in Japan.

Somewhere else in America.

Yet another place somewhere in America.

SCHENECTADY, NEW YORK, UNITED STATES
SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA, UNITED STATES
MEDINA, OHIO, UNITED STATES

Now see if you can match up the place to the search term.

Baby vomiting middle of the night phlegm
Home security guard Australia
Senior citizens Australia grey
Doom 3 wallpaper pentagram
Videos of cats doing stupid stuff
Fuck in Asia
Mouthful
Sandwichi
silly pictures
fffffffffffffffff
Shocking Photos
How do I stop crying everytime I stay the night somewhere?


Sorry to disappoint.

Months and months ago, I got all motivated and thought I would start a Video Carnival. I hadn't relied on peoples general apathy being a problem, so it just kind of faded away.

Well the entries have been positively oozing in, so finally after a long wait here is Vicarious videos episode one: The phallic menace.

Actually there are no phalluses whatsoever in these videos.

Without further ado.

Dave, at Being Korean demonstrates his sledding skills.

James from the now defunct Lost Seouls talks some shit.

Lao Ocean from Lao Ocean Girl has a video of a lecherous monkey that is most amusing.

Canadian Mark from The Blog of Hohmann sent me a video which I seem to have lost, so here is another one of his: Cooking with Andre. Several other cool little productions can be found on his site.

From Mike at Resident Gamer, we have Crazy Guy.

Les from Les Becker demonstrates the latest enslavement techniques.

The demented one (aka Peemil) lets the cat out of the bag with a most bizarre home production.

And finally a nice offensive one of my own.

Submit your videos here, and we'll see if the next one can be bigger, better, faster and sleeker.