Right, done

Right, that’s done. I fluffed a couple of the transitions, and at the end it was loud and everybody looked at me so I had to run away, but aside from that, it was okay.

And then there was cake.

Now for hot tub.

I win

So it turns out that the boiling point of liquid nitrogen is -196 Celcius, so I win! I win science and I’m going to take science and play with it all by myself and not let anyone else have a go.

Oop ‘ill

For those of you who partake in the fine, white, expensive stuff, you probably don’t want to hear how good today was, so I’ll just tell you the bad stuff instead.

Turoa is apparently icy as, no t-bars today and the Jumbo is seriously borken.

At Whakapapa the top cafe had burst pipes so no water there at all. The Far West cafe had a very limited selection of chocolate. The Far West t-bar wasn’t going today, and the excess of snow has filled in, or at least rounded off lots of the terrain under the West quad. There are very few rocks so if you’ve an old pair of skis that you want to trash then you’re better off getting someone with a car to tow you up the Bruce Road in them. Today there was a high risk of sunburn, leading to certain death. There were bugger all queues too, so your legs would have gotten very tired.

Hmm… notes Thirstygirl’s comments on hubris… Ploughs on regardless…

Here, now.

From the late great Bill Hicks:

“The world is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it, you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it’s very brightly coloured and it’s very loud and it’s fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question, is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, ‘Hey – don’t worry, don’t be afraid, ever, because, this is just a ride…’ And we… kill those people.”

So here’s a link to the trailer for Ong Bak.

This movie is rated “Ooo” for bare sweaty muscled chests, remarkable crotch flexiblity and flaming flying feet of fury.

Weekend up the mountain

So yeah, loads a snow, headed up the mountain, got to Whakapapa, put board down, went for a slash before long hard day boarding. Got back to board. No board.

Great big fat wobbly floppy donkey’s nob.

And someone else’s board had been nicked in the same minute.

And they’d run out of hire boards, so I just hitched back to Ohakune and sulked.

And got caught in a two hour jam to get to Turoa on sunday.

An expensive and tedious weekend. Not a happy Jez here.

But hey, I’d really gone off the colour of the board anyway.

Where would we be without prawn?

Can there be such a thing as too much prawn? Well, yes, apparently the UK is swamped with nearly 500,000 tons of waste prawn each year. So they have to find something to do with all their prawn:

Prawn helps you with gaping holes:

Prawn and artificial skin:

Prawn helps with itchy red rash:

Whereas in NZ, kiwi ingenuity results in geo-thermal prawn:

There’s so much prawn on the interweb.

Facehugger/scorpion monsters

So I was having nice dreams when the facehugger/scorpion things turned up. They are scary.

But bollocks, I thought, this is my dream, so I get to have a Sony Killstick, with unlimited ammo, the autoaiming module and Kill-chan clip-on mascot. And we’re in a big wide open place and the facehuggers have to start one hundred metres away.

It was brief.

And then I went to the Land of Fluffyness, where everything is made of kitten fur, including water, air and outer space.

So I have flu

and the modem cable doesn’t quite reach to the bed, but I’ll post this later. Yay for laptops and duvets.

Anyway, here’s some random ranting about books worth your time. Read them. READ THEM ALL!!! /zim

“A Canticle for Leibowitz” by Walter M. Miller
In the beginning, the Lord made the earth, and it was good. But Man grew wicked so the Lord sent the Flood to wash away the sins of Man. But Man grew wicked again in his power, so the Lord sent the Fire Flood to wash away the sins of Man, and allowed the Demon Fallout to walk the land, stealing the children of Man. And Man burned his wicked books, and anyone who knew how to read.

This may have happened more than once.

And in the middle of some god-awful desert, where no man would want to go, live a bunch of monks. They have a bunch of books written on goatskin, which lasts about a thousand year, but the inks they use only last a few hundred. So they spend their days copying the fading books longhand.

And that’s just the backstory. Its not a cheerful book, but it is important.

“Red shift” by Alan Garner
Words like flame, words like thunder. The repeating tiny catastrophes of English culture. Far too close to the bone for me to enjoy.

“Strandloper” by Alan Garner
A Cheshire brickie gets deported for learning to read, ends up an Aboriginal spiritual leader. And its a true story, or as true as you’re going to get.

“Thursbitch” by Alan Garner
You’re all going to die. And that’s just how it is.

Just anything by Alan Garner, ok? Unflinching, honest, the finest cants and breath-taking craftsmanship. We forget how important it is, to be so skilled that what you’re doing looks like nothing at all.

“Vurt” by Jeff Noon
Garner writes about what it is to be human, i.e. what it is to be divine. Noon writes about what it is to be utterly mashed up, staggering around cities in the dead of the night. Virtual drugs in a virtual Manchester, virtually the end of the world as we know it, but the rain is real.

“Perdito Street Station” by China Mieville
Neil Gaiman and his twee little tales can go suck a fat one. London eats its young, and spits them out rather mangled and pissed off. With the scariest monsters ever, and worse allies. When the Lords of Hell are afraid of the Weaver, you’re going to ask him for help?

(“Iron Dragon’s Daughter” by Michael Swanwick too, gasoline-power dragons with stealth skin. And rough fairy nookie too.)

“Stone baby” by Joolz Denby
You know that taste in your mouth after you’ve just been punched in the face? The taste of your head ringing? For those fed up of the romanticism of crime and violence. Gamy.

And now for more vitamin C.


I get all competitive around boys. Sadly when we’re up the mountain for my first day of the season, and the boy in question is a professional ski guide on Mt Cook and has worked a season as a field guide in Antarctica, i.e. probably the best skier that I’ve ever met, then this is a bad idea.

Didn’t do too bad for myself, but well, legs like noodles now too.

I have Rick-Mouthitis

I can’t believe I said half the things that I said last night, but had Rick been there, he’d have said them instead, so its all his fault.

Anyway, good party, managed to get off train at Pukerua Bay, fell over on stairs in our bungalow, crashed out, to be ready for skate hockey game in Palmie this lunchtime.

So Andrea woke me up at some god-awful time, bouncing about the snow report, blue skies, a foot of powder at Turoa. And I think my mouth was still in Rick mode, coz I said “hey, I’ll drive as far as Palmie to stop you getting utterly shattered by driving to Ruapehu and back all by yourself”. What a gallant chap I am. So Andrea bounced further and said “right, get up then coz we’re going now”.

Hang on, brain awakens, assesses the situation, namely, I’m hungover, I’ve had minimal sleep, I’ve already arranged a lift to Palmie at a far more reasonable later time and I want nothing more than to stay in bed.

So had breakfast at the Arena in Palmie, surrounded by Levin fans, screaming “Kill! Kill! Kill!”, at their under-20s team, who, strangely, were playing like a bunch of thugs. Wonder where they get it from?

And we had no substitutes, so played a full 40 minutes, as opposed to the expected 20 minutes in 60 second chunks. Whimper. And I missed a powder day at Turoa. Arse.

But my Rick-Mouthitis is cured, possibly because I’m now too tired to do much more than drool. Oh, hang on, maybe that’s just the terminal phase of Rick-Mouthitis.

Paul’s CDs

And that’s what three hundred CDs looks like. Includes much Orb and reminded me how good Utah Saints were.

That near-solid lump of plastic weights 5 kg. The rippage almost compensated for the postage.

Yes, I’ve updated twice in less than 24 hours. The world could well be ending.

My name is]: Jez
[in the morning i am]: Dragoniacous
[love is]: Rare
[i dream about]: Waking up. Repeatedly. Grr…

-W I T H .T H E. O P P O S I T E. S E X-
[what do you notice first?]: Biking ability.
[last person you slow danced with]: My soulmate

-W H O-
[do you have a crush on?]: I keep wearing his shirts
[easiest to talk to]: Joy. But then, she’s a dog

-H A V E .Y O U .E V E R-
[fallen for your best friend]: Yes, frequently, to the point of not comprehending how anyone cannot

-W H O .W A S .T H E .L A S T. P E R S O N-
[you talked to on the phone]: They wanted the person who used to have my desk. Sigh.
[hugged]: Does throwing people on the floor at aikido count?
[you instant messaged]: A
[you laughed with]: A

-D O .Y O U / / A R E .Y O U-

[could you live without the computer]: Only if I can swap it for a huge laser, 4 kW diode-pumped Nd:YAG, please
what’s your favorite food?]: Mmmm…. Pipasha’s jalfrezi…. Alex’s Machli Bhuna

[whats your favorite fruit?]: Apples, preferably Chivers Delight or Jonagold
[what hurts the most?] Broken bones are bad. Emotional pain is not good, but its never caused me to black out.

-N U M B E R-
[of times i have had my heart broken? ]: Nope.
[of hearts i have broken?] : Hopefully none.
[of boys i have kissed?] : Umm… some
[of girls i have kissed?] : Less than the above
[of drugs taken illegally?] : Threeish
[of tight friends?] : I do go around measuring my friends, although I know of several ways to measure stiffness with quite some degree of accuracy
[of cd’s that i own?] : 400 or so
[of scars on my body?] : Way too many to count, scars on scars on scars.
[of things in my past that i regret?] : There’s a few people that I owe that I haven’t paid back.

[i know]: a lot about aluminium
[i want]: for little
[i have]: health
[i wish]: I wasn’t allergic to most mammals
[i hate]: stupidity
[i miss]: a lurcher
[i fear]: for us
[i hear]: choons
[i search]: but I get bored when I find
[i love]: her
[i ache]: before thunderstorms

[i care]: and sometimes, this is a real pain
[i always]: have too much to do
[i dance]: craptaculously
[i cry]: over dogs
[i do not always]: expose myself
[i write]: about everything but myself
[i confuse]: most people
[i can usually be found]: in motion
[i need]: to move back into town
[have you ever played a game that required removal of clothing]: and addition of beer? Yes.
[if so, when and with who]: You don’t know them
[favorite place to be kissed?]: Nape
[have you ever been caught “doing something”]: Yes, but I had a good lawyer

[wuss]: I learned not to be
[druggie]: Endorphins man… yeah…
[gang member]: Royal Society reprazenting!
[daydreamer]: Uh, what?
[alcoholic]: I tried, but my brain could still connect effect with cause, so I stoped
[freak]: Only to grandparents
[brat]: Only when I deploy the dipples of cuteness! Fear the dipples!
[goody-goody]: I drove into town three and a half times this weekend
[angel]: To some
[devil]: To others. But they’re wrong and stupid
[friend]: Working on it.
[shy]: Only when it comes to important things
[talkative]: On caffine
[adventurous]: On snow and rubber
[intelligent]: I can do certain kinds of thinking to an outstanding level. And it gets in the way of the rest of my personality.

[impacted you the most spiritually]: YDKThem
[wish you saw more often]: Everyone in town
[wish you could meet]: YDKHim
[most sarcastic]: Rhiannon tops my list too
[wish you knew better]: Chris
[knows you best]: A
[best outlook on life]: Paul
[most paranoid]: YDKHer either
[sweetest]: The candy-coated ponies


[a smell that makes you smile]: Weston’s cider
[a country you’d like to visit]: Norway
[a drink you order most often]: Tea, silly
[delicious desert]: Suraya’s adultery cake
[a book you highly recommend]: Thursbitch, or Red Shift
[the music you prefer while alone]: Swans
[your favorite band]: Aphex Twin, New Model Army, Nick Cave, Orbital, PJH, Sharkboy, Sisters, Throwing Muses and pretty much all the rest
[a film you could watch over and over]: Film? You mean sit in one place for more than two hours?
[a TV show you watch regularly]: TV broke a while ago, haven’t missed it.
[you live in a(n)]: village up the coast. Far, far up the coast.
[your transportation]: GT STS with Pace bouncy bits, Dale V900 with many, many miles on it, carbon fibre unicycle, three pairs of skates, snowboard, kites, and the ultimate SUV – a Honda Civic
[cologne or perfume]: fresh sweat
[under your bed or in your closet you hide]: monsters of the id
[something important on your night table]: Rhi’s copy of Fight Club

Flying monkeys at that

What kind of disease are you?


happyinmotion is caused by monkeys.

A case of happyinmotion complex is characterized by a constant impersonation of Hitler.
To cure happyinmotion, relay all conversation through Mr. Winkels, a stuffed animal made from your own belly button lint.


Anyway, I’m just off to pick a fight with the Soviet Union. I may be some time.