Suddenly, NOSTALGIA!

Anyone else LOVE Kirby Superstar? I haven't played it in eons (100% completion usually does that to a person), but it was an absolute gem in the realm of cooperative 2-player side-scrollin' antics.

Just thought y'all needed to know that. :D

Youth

Taking my wee dog Peppy for a walk a couple hours ago, I looked up into the night sky, took a breath of crisp air and recalled something that I kinda miss, and will never have back...
My mid-teenage years.

Thinking back to an awkward, goofy and hopelessly single sixteen-year-old Tony brings a grin to my face, as I try and immerse myself as best as I can in the memory of his surroundings. None of us drove, our work obligations ranged from simple to non-existent, and we had to make our own fun. Oftentimes, we would find this fun in roaming the streets of Melton, acting out the stereotypical role of Southy mischievous youths.

What do I remember doing? Nothing and everything, depending on the day. Sometimes we would bounce from house to house looking for something to do, I'd hit on chicks all the time without them realising (something I really don't miss at all), and sometimes, we'd get up to some wild stuff in the evening, like sneak into places where we were unwelcome, or crash parties (just by showing up, no assaulting guests, mind) or attack things with sticks, or steal a rubbish bin so we could light a hobo-riffic campfire, stuff of that ilk, before we'd retreat to the safety of whoever's house we were staying at to play Mario Kart into the wee hours of the morning.

From the years of backyard wrestling (something we were terrible at) to hours on end of video gaming... to an old favourite, playing flashlight tag on other people's property in the night and getting Matt and Michael stuck in a tree with suspicious residents seeking them out while the rest of us knicked off to go eat ice cream.

My teenage years were stupid, y'know? But that doesn't mean they weren't a blast. And as the end of my life as a teenager draws nearer, I look ahead to the world of a twenty-something rapscallion.

No more late night mischief (unless alcohol's involved).

No more carefree days putting our safety at risk for cheap kicks (again, alcohol says otherwise).

No more video games... hang on, that's not true. Still a lot of video games, just with a lot more swearing and Jessica declaring that she 'doesn't wanna be an egg!!'

I really am an easygoing young lad, you know. People around me get stressed, but I just look forward to what life brings. I celebrate the good times, and cruise through the bad times, oftentimes coming up with shifty ways to make it look as though I put in some effort along the way.
Seriously people, iffin anything's ever getting up your grill, just take a step back and say to yourself, 'things may be bad, but feeling bad about it doesn't make it better. I'm gonna have fun right now, regardless'. Eckhart Tolle says it in a deeper way, but that's the gyst you need to realise. Keep right on grinning, and you'll get through it.

Lord knows we all face adversity along the way. I have, you have, we all have. Thing is, I'm still sitting here feeling dandy as Christmas, so I say y'all should too.

Thuggin' and buggin'

'sup, wordmeisters?

I often wonder why I'm awake at midnight, downing caffeine-laden Coke Zero and boppin' to the beats of the Back to the Future theme, but I can't formulate an answer other than all the above RAWK LIKE DA HAWK.

I also wonder why I start BLOGs with nothing to say? Hmm, that's even more dubious still. Regardless, sleep will be hard to come by tonight, seeing how the Titans are squaring off against those nasty Colts on the 'morrow. How I hate those Dolts! What is it, six hours away? Why bother sleeping now? I have Paul's class for that.
Now Robot Rock is thumping out on my computer speaker, and I've just got visions of Vince running through the stumbling Indy defense, weaving and dodging like a champ. I actually pick the Titans in this one (not out of homerism, but a good feeling); if the Titans win they'll win it close (3 points and under), if the Colts win, it'll be by a lot (2 TD +). And if the latter happens, I'll be put in an even fouler frame of mind for the idiotic events I'll be undertaking tomorrow at uni.

Regardless, I may as well look onward towards my week, a fuzzy little thing where I haven't the foggiest clue what I've got planned, though I'm fairly sure plans have been made on my behalf once again, as per usual. I really need a personal planner or a wee little diary to note all my important arrangements. It's a weird concept for me, two years ago I had nothing but time, now I'm a man in high demand it seems. Not for acting reasons tragically, but simply as room filler for 21st birthday parties and helping paint sets. I work pretty hard on set painting I'll have you know, even though I'm a crummy painter.

It's a whole lotta fun just garbling out any old crap that comes to mind, back in the day any personal stuff I might've written would've been carefully screened and edited so that it sounded good, nowadays it's just a steady flow of nonsense, one Coke Zero at a time. Speaking of nonsense, allow me to dip into the Tony archives and unearth something I BLOGged out on my MSN space that nobody read (other than Atcho, because he's a darling).

This one was spouted on the 6th of January 2007, entitled 'Crappy teenage angst-like ramblings'

Look at that big, blue space right there. So empty. So unloved. I guess that means that this BLOG entry is, so far, not started. I realise that in order to remedy this, I'm required to buff it up with words. Wonderful, wonderful words... Crap, I got none. Right, let's go through my thoughts as they come, eh?

I dwell on my past fairly often, simply because it's been there and dwelling on my future sucks ass because I could be entirely wrong; for all I know I'm destined to become a human cannonball or mad scientist. It doesn't take a genius to realise that I've done more in 18 years than a fair few people do their whole lives. I've travelled, I've been through all the dramas characteristic of youth, I've been uprooted from the country I knew and had my whole world restarted from scratch. Everyone likes to think that their lives had been more interesting than they really are, and I suppose I'm no different. Does anyone care that my mom doesn't live in the same country as me? That my father went from being the son of a street-sweeper to being a one-time millionaire? That, for all intents and purposes I've tried a lot of things and never really succeeded at one? Doubtful.
That's the thing about being human, you think you're fascinating. They say the world doesn't revolve around you, but Christ, it really does, y'know. My world revolves around me, your world revolves around you, Larry from across the street's world revolves around Larry from across the street. I cease to exist, so does my world, the only world I know, thereby technically speaking, the only world there is. People are all the same, whether they love themselves, hate themselves or are decidedly self-indifferent, they adore the idea that there's a reason for being there. Personally, I am of the mindset that I've got to succeed, people have to know who I am, I've got to be remembered when I'm long gone. My life is the only thing I'm ever going to do, if it came and went without anyone taking notice, then once I'm gone I'm gone. And that truly sucks ass.

I'm pretty terrified of death. Life is so real, so... everywhere. I'd love to believe there's something after this, but what if there isn't, huh? Then I won't care. For all eternity, I won't care. I'm a corpse in the ground, I'm ashes in the wind, I'm... dead. My body's still there, it's just broken, in a sense. I can't comprehend that idea of disappearing from existence, to never ponder or question or feel ever again, to be there for every moment, yet not know it. Alright, this is just getting convoluted.

I really wish I was one of those popular BLOGgers, the kind who has like hundreds of online friends and dozens of comments. Sucks that I can't even be popular on the Internet. Ahh, the Internet presence... that ever-shifting, ever-lurking beast of a thousand faces... People don't want to read the BLOG of an 18-year-old Melbourne guy? A new e-mail address, a change of typing and a couple false photos and voila! I'm a confused lesbian trying to find her way through the big scary world. People love knowing about the lives of others, of course, it's obviously just better when it's someone unique. People watch reality television... they're watching the lives of others... and though random tasks are thrown in for the contestants to break the monotony, people would still watch if it was simply a life onscreen, albeit a dramatic one. Our own lives aren't sufficient, we want to observe and mock the lives of others, the people onscreen who are as real as us, but so distant we aren't obligated to really care. Christ, reality television. What a joke. It's in the same vain (vein?) as magazines that amass photos of celebrities walking down the street. We get offended when people invade our privacy, but don't give a shit about doing the same to celebrities, simply because 'they're in the business so they're asking for it', umm, no... They're in the business because they either love what they're doing or just want a lot of money, they don't need your idiot photographers and 'witty' observations about the kind of shoes they're wearing. It's shit like that that links to the image-conscious society we live in. We want to be seen as the very best at everything, or at least, the same as everyone else so that our flaws are hidden.

Why do we get sucked into this void of anonymity? Why can't we accept who we are, others be damned? We clamour to be accepted, like bugs to a light in the dark. We bang our heads and get dizzy, reaching for this perfection that none of us will ever claim, but do we learn? Nope, we want to be thinner or smarter or more popular. We would love to be ourselves, but only if ourselves happen to be perfect. Inevitably, that ever-changing definition of perfection will change and we will all scramble to pick up on whatever falls under that new classification. We're like lemmings, only we don't get a delightful video game series based on us.

Christ, what in the hell am I doing, anyway? Likelihood is my computer will crash before this gets posted, or someone will read this and conclude that... well, this is pretty damned weird. I guess I just needed to type. I haven't done that in a year, I kinda missed typing for no reason.

Wii! BLOG

Lying here... 1 am... waking for uni in six hours... Let's BLOG!!

To start, Titans begin the year with a big dubbleya (W) as they topple the Jaguars 13-10, so I'm riding off that high.
...And speaking of high, someone please smack that Paul moron upside the head. His 'class' is utter crap, and he should feel privileged I even bother turning up.
Hehe, my Wii thought I was gonna say utter crab. Silly Wii! ...Writing BLOGs on it is soooo time consuming.

I got drunk on Saturday, didn't leave the city until 5 am, and some hooker told me I was a bad boyfriend. I thought hookers liked me... or maybe it's just strippers? (refer to previous BLOG if need be)
Stripping is an odd profession. People take their clothes off all the time for free, strippers would be better if there was something more rewarding underneath, like lollies or important information.
If Tom Hanks were a stripper, I'd pay to see him.
All my friends would be like, 'how was it?'
And I'd say, 'Tom Hanks'

THE END. ...now go to sleep, Tony. Vampire Jude awaits you. :o

TonyNotes

Step through the crazed wavy curtains and over-excessive diatribes of my mind and retreat into a mass exodus of symphonic reaction.

Also note that I'm just piecing together random words. I figure, I can't really write worth a crap these days so I thought I'd try to throw out any old rubbish and see what it sounded like. Gave me imagery of a circus run by millionaires, but that might just be me.

NOTES!! Randomly inserted as they come to me...

1. Football season kicks off tomorrow... YIPPEE YAY YAAAAIIII!!! You can be sure that the headline matchup will see me cheering on the Saints to crush the Colts, not just because I like N'Orleans and hate Indy, but I've got Marques Colston in fantasy football this year. Dumb move? Possibly, I passed up Larry Fitzgerald to take Marques. My reasoning was I trust Brees more than Hollywood Leinart. Brees nearly took me to the promised land last year, after all (how can a fantasy team with Drew Brees and LT have fallen short?? I managed...)

2. My sweater sleeve is wet and this upsets me. It's my fault though, I put it in my bag next to a wet dishtowel that had been used earlier that day to clean up apples I had thrown against the wall. Honestly, I'm a friggin' performing genius, I ate apples, then piffed them at a wall and I'll get an HD because I rawk.

3. Should I actually watch West Side Story? Sounds like a queer question, but those finger-snapping numbers look like all sorts of fun. Doesn't matter that I dance like an injured giraffe, I want in.

4. People in Australia seriously need to listen to Our Lady Peace... They're a bit zany at times, I reckon you need to be eased into their style. I think Gravity and Spiritual Machines are the best albums to start with, then you get onto their more alternative stuff from there. As far as songs go, Somewhere Out There is rapidly climbing up my favourites list, though the top spot is still held by Made to Heal for now.

5. As I type this BLOG and whenever I go to my MySpace homepage, that headband-wearing Tony is constantly staring at me, smiling that obnoxious smile. I'm starting to really hate that prick. What's his problem, huh? STOP LOOKING AT ME!!

6. I love the idea that people are 'subscribed' to my BLOG, makes me think I should actually start posting them with some regularity. Rob gets a shiny stone for having been subscribed since 2005. With it he can fight Culex, but only if he really wants to... I'm sure there's other neat stuff you can do with a shiny stone.

7. Why is Atcho the only person who sends me Wiimails? I need more, dammit! Make me feel popular!

8. Breloom is awesome. I mean it's a mushroom boxer! Mike Tyson fungus, emphasis on the fun. Oh, and SporePunching for the WIN.

9. Why can I only get Joe Esposito's You're the Best on iTunes when I buy the whole King of Kong album? I seek neither king nor kong, I seek karate kid exclusively!

10. I know all the lyrics to A Miracle Would Happen from The Last Five Years. Put a piano behind me, and I probably wouldn't know how to time it to save my life. Anyone else think Norbert Leo Butz sounds like Eric McCormack? I'd be amazed if anyone answers this question as well as addressing point 1.

Right, I think I've been enough of a time burglar. Disperse back into the masses my children, and bring back a samich for old Tony C!