Hey people of many nations,
Welcome to my fine emporium of words...
Please sit down,
Relax,
Take a load off...
You know it did occur to me today that no-one is really paying attention to my blog at all so I've decided to just start making stuff up, maybe if I created a big enough tissue of lies then someone will blow their nose in it (wow that was a metaphor that made no sense).
Without further ado (why not, I like ado),
I give you:
FAKE STORIES ABOUT DOC'S TRIP
The other day I visited a place called "Zimzan", the king of Zimzan is this little berber man with white hair and a wooden leg (he painted it gold to fool tourists). Anyhow the king would put on a giant festival in your honor if you could guess what his name was. Intrigued I set about finding a way to learn the king's name, he was berber so logic dictated (bad logic, very bad!) that I should learn his name from a berber. So there I was, the middle of the desert, not a drop of water in sight... I was doomed, I resigned myself to a twisted fate when all of a sudden a jeep pulled up with three berber men inside. They remarked something in french or berber (I couldn't really tell, I dont speak either french or berber), to which I replied "Sorry but I dont speak either french or berber". "Englishman!" they cheered, I followed up with "Australian, but close enough". "What the f**k are you doing in the middle of the f**king desert" one of them questioned me. "I'm trying to find out the king of Zimzan's name" I answered him. "That's easy, his name is Jeff. Want a ride back to town?". "Shit yeah!" I jumped in the jeep. "Where you guys going to?" I asked of the man beside me as the jeep took off. "We're just getting some supplies for the party" he smiled back at me. "Cool, is this some sort of traditional berber thing?". "Nah, its a desert rave... this man up front is a DJ... DJ Yssup". "Nice!" I replied. We pulled up at the grocer (which from the amount of dialog that has just passed would have been about 300 meters away from where they picked me up), and the men got out and bought their party supplies- bottles of water, strobe lights, whistles etc, etc...
After that I ended up going to the desert rave, and king Jeff bitter at having his name discovered by a tourist abdicated his throne to me. So thats the story about how I went to see DJ Yssup play a set and was made king of a small but flourishing berber kingdom.
I hope you all enjoyed this completely fictional tale about my journey, see you next time on:
FAKE STORIES ABOUT DOC'S TRIP
doc.
PS- "Yssup" spells "pussy" backwards, just thought I would throw that one in for you.
Welcome to my fine emporium of words...
Please sit down,
Relax,
Take a load off...
You know it did occur to me today that no-one is really paying attention to my blog at all so I've decided to just start making stuff up, maybe if I created a big enough tissue of lies then someone will blow their nose in it (wow that was a metaphor that made no sense).
Without further ado (why not, I like ado),
I give you:
FAKE STORIES ABOUT DOC'S TRIP
The other day I visited a place called "Zimzan", the king of Zimzan is this little berber man with white hair and a wooden leg (he painted it gold to fool tourists). Anyhow the king would put on a giant festival in your honor if you could guess what his name was. Intrigued I set about finding a way to learn the king's name, he was berber so logic dictated (bad logic, very bad!) that I should learn his name from a berber. So there I was, the middle of the desert, not a drop of water in sight... I was doomed, I resigned myself to a twisted fate when all of a sudden a jeep pulled up with three berber men inside. They remarked something in french or berber (I couldn't really tell, I dont speak either french or berber), to which I replied "Sorry but I dont speak either french or berber". "Englishman!" they cheered, I followed up with "Australian, but close enough". "What the f**k are you doing in the middle of the f**king desert" one of them questioned me. "I'm trying to find out the king of Zimzan's name" I answered him. "That's easy, his name is Jeff. Want a ride back to town?". "Shit yeah!" I jumped in the jeep. "Where you guys going to?" I asked of the man beside me as the jeep took off. "We're just getting some supplies for the party" he smiled back at me. "Cool, is this some sort of traditional berber thing?". "Nah, its a desert rave... this man up front is a DJ... DJ Yssup". "Nice!" I replied. We pulled up at the grocer (which from the amount of dialog that has just passed would have been about 300 meters away from where they picked me up), and the men got out and bought their party supplies- bottles of water, strobe lights, whistles etc, etc...
After that I ended up going to the desert rave, and king Jeff bitter at having his name discovered by a tourist abdicated his throne to me. So thats the story about how I went to see DJ Yssup play a set and was made king of a small but flourishing berber kingdom.
I hope you all enjoyed this completely fictional tale about my journey, see you next time on:
FAKE STORIES ABOUT DOC'S TRIP
doc.
PS- "Yssup" spells "pussy" backwards, just thought I would throw that one in for you.
posted by celticdiardan at 4:24 AM
4 Comments:
Fine, have a winge mr wingy pants! Not that I'm reading your blog, nooo. Alright, I'm done :)
So, been travelling in the desert huh? Funk. I am still struggling to get music software, ordered some on e-bay which never arrived (F**KIN) still tracking down a pro audio store here in town, stay tuned. And yes, I'm still expecting you here whether I'm engaged, married, famous or in a gutter, me casse su casse (F**KIN you know how to spell it). SYU!
yeah, well that blows! dont worry about the software, i'll get all that shit up and running in feb when I arrive, probably on the 10th...
you just find us a bass player now, or someone with keyboard experience (I have some really good ideas for this, trust me)... and when I arrive i'll give you the details,
and who knows maybe you'll be famous and married, but i'll always be in the gutter (its not so bad there!)...
doc.
Aw, I don't wanna wait til february!! Well, I might have to anyway. Still looking for that pro audio shop.
Whats your return to Oz date again?
my infamous return to aus is on the 8th of january... it will be about one month of TCB (taking care of business) before I head your way... I'm renting a van for the move and I'm hoping your place is within a walk to a main bus-stop...
oh and try and find a bass player or keyboardist before I move, I want to get started producing live music ASAP (a single acre of pears) in brisbane...
and I forgot to add its- mi casa, su casa... sorry but I dont wont the italians to be confused with your spelling...
doc.
PS- Look it up in the yellow pages under "pro audio", come on! do you want me to do it from austria???
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