Issuing supreme power to you...one moment.

My self-summary Propose an edit

I am from a variety of places in Europe and Australia, and have somehow ended up in Adelaide, festival city of churches, and home to the Bloody Abortion (a kebab that looks less pleasant than you'd imagine).
I want to know what love is, I want you to show me...but failing that, I'll settle for a photo of your boobs. Or anyone's boobs. Excluding manboobs.
I don't really want to know what love is, and it isn't a requirement that you show me what love is, "I want to know what love is, I want you to show me...", are lyrics from a song that topped the charts in the 1980's. I think the group that recorded it went by the name, Foreigner, and it very well could've been called, "I want to know what love is".
I'm not saying that I am adverse to increasing my, "love knowledge", but I feel that I do have a basic grasp of what love is already, and can inform Foreigner, that although love has its good points, it can cause indigestion, so always have a packet of Settlers handy when on love discovery manoeuvres.

Update: I am in Melbourne now, city of trams, my birth, and Chopper Reid, who became a celebrity in Australia by killing people and cutting his own earlobes off with razor blades.

Update: Am in the UK now. Well, Wales.

What I'm doing with my life Propose an edit

Is something that I do ponder, in brief moments of clarity, before passing out. Again.

I'm really good at Propose an edit

Drinking coffee, whilst still being able to sleep straight afterwards, smoking cigarettes, and making up convoluted nonsense on the spot, without even being asked.

Update 25/05/2008: Been on THE PATCH for a month now, though my last ciggy passed 'tween my lips a week ago.
I used to be smoke, now I am absence of smoke (I could reduce the whole page to that sentence), and last night I dreamt that I was dead and Helena Bonham Carter filled me in on the fact that I had 15 days until my self went one way or the other, or just went.
Which nearly beats the dream I had where I cooked Public Enemy a roast pork lunch that was so bad, they left my place in disgust. I had that one about 16 years ago, and look at what has happened to the world in the meantime. Yes, uncanny, is it not...I can speak like Yoda, spooky...Helena Bonham Carter, annoying, she is...hmmm...sometimes I fall into bizarre non-relationships with women of Germanic heritage, and I don't know how, or why, and please stop, let it...easy reggae sunshine hits of the 90's, Mysterious Girl, that's what life should be like, or like Bananas & Blow, by the popular music troupe, Ween...dream, we can, and in a royal tense, nice...I bet Robert Palmer was never addicted to commas, and look at him now, he's dead, ouch.

The first thing(s) people usually notice about me Propose an edit

An underlying note of exaggerated hysteria, offsetting an otherwise easygoing nature that borders on a coma.

My favorite books, movies, music, and food Propose an edit

I won't do a massive list right now, anyway:

(A) Some good music be Ian Dury & The Blockheads, Wolfmother, Pixies, Smog, Nick Cave, Charles Mingus, The Libertines, ABC, Leonard Cohen, Bowie, Air, Roots Manuva, Machine Gun Fellatio, The Associates, Blondie, MF Doom, Queens Of The Stone Age, Weezer, Muse, Pulp, Roxy Music, Flaming Lips, Prince, Daft Punk, Spiderbait, Vampire Weekend, Jurassic 5, Tilly & The Wall, Scritti Politti, Kasabian, Hot Chip.

(B) A few good books would be Life Of Pi, Catcher In The Rye, Slaughterhouse Five, Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil, The Wasp Factory, The Amazing Adventures Of Kavalier & Clay, Quite Days In Clichy, Dune, The Hobbit, If On A Winters Night A Traveller..., Carter Beats The Devil, Papillon.

(C) A nifty movie, or four, would be Withnail & I, Fight Club, Hear My Song, Miller's Crossing, Secretary, Sexy Beast, Star Wars, Rushmore, Midnight Cowboy, For A Few Dollars More, The Crying Game, Battle Royale, A Company Of Wolves, Brazil, Bladerunner, Donnie Darko, Naked(Mike Leigh), The Elephant Man, Fast Times At Ridgemont High, Azumi.

(D) All food is good, apart from instant mash potato, which drives me insane.

The six things I could never do without Propose an edit

I shan't say here, for I resent them.

I spend a lot of time thinking about Propose an edit

Who'd win in a fight between Toto and Foreigner? How could Al Jarreau influence the outcome?

http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=180W3_cJIXY

On a typical Friday night I am Propose an edit

Typical Friday night!? Me? Fume and rage! On a Friday night I could very well decide to jump on a leper to Paris so as to piss on the corpse of Picasso! How dare you suggest there be anything typical about my Friday nights, do you know who I am? I am Mr Fuck The Outrageous and I just redefined the concept of Friday night for the 31st century!
Having said that, fuck all, usually, you desperate muppets.

The most private thing I'm willing to admit here Propose an edit

I paid good money for some freak to shove a piece of metal through my trouser snake.

Update: Which has since migrated. Rejected by metal. Harsh statement.

I am slowly hunting down all people who write, 'That'd be saying', etc, as the most private thing I'm willing to admit here does not mean having to mention the time you loved a dog too much on video for crack money, or implying that you may have, though you haven't really, because you aren't interesting.
Life's great secret is that knowing the love of a dog doesn't automatically make you interesting. Though it would be a momentarily entertaining source of gossip, certainly, and I guess there are levels of acceptability, like a collie I could understand, but a poodle, fuck off.
Anyway, I have a rhino toe, and I like the music of Abba sometimes, neither of which involves my penis, for example.
Though they could, grrr.
It doesn't really bother me what people say here, just like I answer questions and do tests to kill time, and thus have made people talking to inanimate objects an important question, it isn't an important question. I am INFP/INTP, and that is not an important definition, and I am 14% my own enemy, which is a gross underestimation on the part of OK Cupid, but this is a page on the internet, and The Matrix trilogy, whilst stylish for 5 seconds, was a crustysock drawerful of interminable wank.

You should message me if Propose an edit

If you are not some dirty, perverse, eighteen year-old girl, with golden-tressled curls, flowing down to your pert derriere (with a webcam), just looking for a seedy cyber sesh. I am worth more than that.

Update: Yes, I know, I look like Dr Evil, presume I've heard that before, and that I am raising my wee finger to the corner of my mouth right now.
Its the danger that comes with being bald, just like you have hair, so therefore, you look like a c***.
Which isn't necessarily true, in which case, you could say I look like a shaven c***, which would be a bit rude of you.
You may call me The Brazilian if you like, that sounds a bit more Bondian proper, 'Yes, Mr Bond, I use only the finest quality beans for my coffee, but before you can uncover the secret of my Peruvian Blue aromatic roast, you shall be put to your doom within the inescapable maw of an angry vagina!'

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