Stoked!

There's an amazing new exhibition at the Museum of Brisbane called The Stoke. The exhibition documents the history of skateboarding in Brisbane, and is seriously awesome. Wall upon wall of Schmitt Stix, Powell Peraltas and Vision Gators.

I bored my cohort to death with stories of me sporting a bowl cut and high-top converse in the eighties; tick-tacking madly to keep up with my brother while we rocked around the streets on our boards (mine was his old hand-me-down). I had wild dreams of landing massive ollies, and sliding with grace and ease down the concrete gutters in our neighbourhood. These dreams were shattered when my natural clumsiness revealed itself - I came flying off after my board came to a shuddering halt on a rock in the middle of the road. My board stopped, but I kept going, landing in an ungainly fashion and giving myself a minor hairline fracture of the thumb.

Resplendent in the middle of the exhibition is a replica of the skate bowl from the Mooroka Skate Shed. Three dudes were mucking around on it today, grinding on the rails and generally having a cracking time.

I love this image - a dude making the most of the sculpture that sits outside the Brisbane Magistrates Court.

I plan on heading back in there for another look soon.

Papercuts Hurt, Work Safely

Ever since seeing (500) Days of Summer I have been in love with this poster. Seriously - searching high and low/googling madly while avoiding work or study. To no avail. Then one random Friday night, I stumble across it.

All I need now is for it to be printed on high quality paper, framed beautifully and presented to me on Christmas day... Possibly the best thing about this poster (aside from its infinite cuteness) is that it speaketh the truth.

Big ups to http://ben-mullins.blogspot.com/2010/06/papercuts-hurt-work-safely.html for making it available.

Southern Adventures

I often lament that my life is REALLY dull and that I never do anything (insert high and whiny voice here). I particularly like to blame working and studying full time for this. However, it's recently come to my attention that I do in fact have a life, it's just that I sleep-walk through most of it.

So being week two of summer semester, it was the perfect time for southern adventures. Namely, hanging out with one of my favourite friends in beautiful Sydney. And Sydney really turned on the weather for my trip; clear blue skies, plenty of sun, and beautiful breezes.

We spent a good portion of our time together shopping, drinking and eating - truly, these are 3 of my favourite things to do, even though I am often overheard (from up on my high horse - the view is better up there, you see) that "shopping is not a hobby". I tell myself that recognition of this fact counter-balances the fact that I do it as often as possible.

Here's just a portion of the evidence of the recent trip:

Pedicure - delightful. Though I feel the need to use the word "classy" about strolling round Bondi Junction wearing the freebie pedicure thongs until my toenails dried (some 30 minutes).

Images from the Brett Whitely gallery in Surrey Hills. Such a talented man, and it seems, one with a penchant for cutesy imagery, such as those delightful finger skateboards. Also, that statement written on his wall (life is brief, but my god thursday afternoon seems incredibly long): never were truer words spoken. 

 Trunks are back ya'll.

Beautiful, beautiful Coogee...

Mr Matey!!!

Mr Matey!!! Please tell me I'm not the only one who remembers this ad:



This is the stuff of 80's Australiana....

See what happens when you leave Brisbane...

See...you leave Brisbane, and 'Can Do' Campbell decided that laneway bars and restaurants are the way forward...If I'm honest, this is really just an opportunity for a gratutious shot of some laneway art snapped on the walk back to the office from uni on Saturday. Yes, Saturday. The folk I was sharing a computer lab with were getting a bit too much for my delicate nature.

I figured the walk back to work would satisfy my need to avoid study momentarily, and give me the chance to spot frollicking water lizards in the Botanic Gardens on the way down. On the way I noticed this very cool laneway, which leads to the Laneway Bar. One I have visited and confirm is very cool. If only my life afforded me the opportunity to visit it more frequently. Stay tuned though - I foresee pre-Christmas alcohol-fuelled forays.

It's moll, not mole...

Earlier today, I caught myself saying to a former colleague (who was lamenting his teenage daughter’s misadventures) “don’t worry; there’ll come a time when your daughter says I’m sorry. I was a painful moll”.

There are a few things to consider here:

1.       It’s my experience that upon entering their early twenties, most young women emerge from the hormone haze and apologise;  but if I’m wrong, I’ve given the dude false hope that his daughter will become semi-human one day;

2.       How is it that so many people misspell the word moll?? Owing to Kylie Mole’s 80’s fame, and the word’s recent resurgence, so many people I know spell it ‘mole’, not ‘moll’; and

3.       Given I’m not using the word correctly myself, it’s slightly hypocritical to get hung up on incorrect spelling, when I’m accidentally calling this chap’s teenage daughter a prostitute.

Not my smoothest move. My case in point:

–noun Slang.

1.

gun moll.

2.

Archaic . a prostitute.

Thanks http://www.dictionary.com/. Thanks for reaffirming my spectacular case of foot in mouth.

In other adventures...tonight brings a myriad joy: study, study, and subsequent successful avoidance of study.

I promise myself so regularly that I will become a diligent student of law. As my marks demonstrate, I’m very successful at lying to myself. And now I’ve tortured myself by going to www.zenhabits.net/ - a site I like to visit to refocus my mind. Tonight’s topic? Procrastination....the irony.