Encouraged by Enny last time I did it, I've decided it's time for some more dot points.
-- Bumblebee rang me today. Did I mention he's in Perth? He's attending a surprise 59th birthday party for my uncle, who refused to have a big 60th party. We couldn't all go because of work commitments, so we sent the Party Boys -- Bumblebee and my father, Colonel Duck. Apparently Bumblebee is having a dreadful time. They rang today from Fremantle wharf, where B was scoffing a huge plate of king prawns and a chocolate milkshake. Sigh. They fly back tomorrow, and I can just imagine the dark circles under that child's eyes. Still, he's having a ball with our very high-spirited west-coast family.
-- I've been reading some predictions for the future over at The Art Life. Some are hilariously tongue-in-cheek, and others ...
12. By the end of the decade, all DVDs currently being produced and sold by artists will be obsolete, unable to be played on any domestic machine and all the current work will be consigned to libraries, museums and other such institutions with specialist playback facilities.
... very close to the bone. I like the idea of drawing becoming the new video. I'd pay to see that.
-- While in WA, Colonel Duck has lent me his Little Red Ute to drive. This is the same ute that rattled down to Melbourne in April to meet the House at Sills Bend and pick up a trayload of type and cabinets. There's something about having access to a ute that makes me get all practical and efficient. I spent yesterday afternoon cleaning out my garage and dumping all the rubbish in the back of the ute to take to the dump. When I'd finished the garage was a lot cleaner (I can see my tarp-wrapped press again!) and the ute tray was full, but not as full as I'd expected. When I took the load to the dump this afternoon, I was charged a hefty tip fee, and realised that if I'd squeezed it all into the stationwagon I would have saved $5, since utes are classed as commercial vehicles. But it's more fun to be hooning along in a ute with my sunnies on, the window rolled down and the radio blaring. Stationwagons, even painted ones, just don't feel right for these occasions.
-- BB and I are going to the movies tonight to enjoy our last childfree night for a month, and we're still dithering between Fast Food Nation or Wordplay. We have free tickets to see Boytown, but I don't think even that can get me there. The more I hear of it the less I want to see it, even for free. Which reminds me...
-- Best Beloved came home from his whirlwind tour of Far North Queensland clutching his brand new copy of Jonestown, bought at Brisbane airport, which was the furthest north he could find it. He hasn't stopped reading since. I haven't seen him so engrossed in one book since the last Harry Potter release. And every night while he's reading it, I get the same idea. So here it is. I haven't checked to see if anyone else has done it; I wouldn't be surprised, since it's such a great convergence:
-- and last, a video (sorry, modem-kids). Padge getting high on whatever good shit my shoe smells like. The sound effects are Best Beloved; he often talks for the cats in very strange voices. One day I'll catch him in an unguarded moment and you can have a kitty version of Punch and Judy.
OH! AND YAY FOR CLAIRE BOWDITCH getting the best female performer ARIA!!! I'm glad I'm not alone in thinking her latest album was teh bomb. I just can't stop playing it, it's been months and months now.