dysphonia = DOOM

I'm freaking out. I'm really freaking out. What if I have vocal nodules? I'm supposed to be recording in two weeks and I sound like a broken ass! Ohhhhhshit.

I'm not sure how long I have been drunk for. It's been a few days. Two gigs in a row and both days I pretty much shat into the microphone in front of a hundred people. My nurse-friend (she's so, so pretty) thinks it's laryngitis, but I'm inclined to think the absolute worst. On Saturday I played at the Rosemount and a girl whose name I can't pronounce told me that the best cure for a sore throat when you need to sing is black sambucca, not whiskey, so I thought I'd cover all bases and surrounded myself on stage with red wine, jamesons and black sambucca. My only memory is gargling whiskey on stage and the remainder is rather a blur, so to speak. My friend Lake said that I was singing a chorus and when it came to the part where I repeat it, I just said "etcetera, ecetera!". That's kind of funny. I wonder if the audience shared my humour.

So I did some research, and learned that heaps of super-amazing singers have had surgery for nodules. So it doesn't mean I'm a bad singer, it just means that I am loud...a lot. That's comforting but if I take a break everything will turn to rubbish. It's all about momentum!

Ohhh frig I think I have a 90's dance compilation injury. And someone dropped a gin bottle on my foot and now there is a bruise. I'm really interested in the life cycles of bruises. The way they change colour, it's so fascinating. I like the reddish purple of day 2, but am not so fond of the yellowy end. The exception of course, is hickeys, which are abominable.

There was a keg made out of a giant bin. I saw a dude that I had an ENORMOUS crush on a few months ago and I like to think that my behaviour was icy, but mature. Like...something made of ice that isn't freezing your nuts enough to hurt you, just make you aware that the possibility exists so you've gotta rug up.

I'm going to lay down and attempt to refrain from speaking for a whole day. I'm thinking about narwhals again.

nice work if you can get it

I have unrealistic standards. This sometimes proves to be a little overwhelming. 

I'm trying to detox today, but it's such beautiful weather for beer. Meanwhile, I only have red wine and one and a half bottles of whiskey in the house, and beggars can't be choosers eh? I have been recording a demo of a new song, and there are all these birds on Mary Street today which are making beautiful atmospheric background noise for me. Okay, red wine it is then. I can't really drink beer and sing anyway, unless you don't mind me burping mid-note (some people have found it funny in the past).

it's not a tumour

I'm always tired. I've been this way since I was about eleven years old. I've had countless blood tests, naturopathy, chiropractic, accupuncture, thyroid function tests and all that jive but nobody knows what is wrong. I get stupid chest pains and I swear it is cancer.

Deep down, I think I'm just waiting for the right excuse to shave my eyebrows off.

fat is the new skinny

So it turns out that the reason I have put on...I dunno...like....eight kilos in the last five years....is because my liver is made out of crystalised whiskey!

So what to do about this? The following options briefly crossed my mind:

a)  Liver transplant

b)  Open orphanage in Myanmar (if you have good kharma you can balance out your vices)

and then I got distracted so I didn't think of anything else. But cessation of mind-altering substances was most certainly in the back of my mind...

What's a metabolism? How can a potato be bad for me? Didn't GOD make marijuana too? This argument could get deep if I wasn't so wasted from last night's beers, plus just doing 4km on the fucking treadmill.

A guy I know just advertised his membership of a Facebook group called "Join if you have an awesome Asian girlfriend". This made me angry because, besides it being a blatant stereotyping of oriental women (think of movies like The Castle where the crusty old Aussie "bloke" marries a young Chinese lady that is only interested in shoving ping pong balls up her vagina and has that horrible shrill, high-pitched whine), I happen to know his girlfriend and I know that she would be proud of this. Some chicks just need a good slap in the head. Most boys do, too. I suppose this guy thinks all Asian girls have small vaginas and are good cooks.

Can't be bothered continuing this rant. Next time I see this dude I'm gonna slip some ballachaung down his fucking pants and then he can see how hot Eurasian chicks are. I happen to have some fugly female relatives, by the way.

I would like it if it was still fashionable to have a figure like these Renoir ladies:

 

I would also like to add that fashion blogs are the most boring waste of time ever and I would rather spend my time sharpening pencils with my anus, so stop making them. Okay.