Looking like Darwin Deez

Wednesday was a sad day even though Spicks and Specks and At The Movies was on. Wednesday was the day I shaved my moustache.

It was sad because while I had a moustache Alan would tell me I looked like Darwin Deez. I can't sing or dance like Mr. Deez, so looking like him was the next best thing. I liked it when Alan would tell me I look like Darwin Deez. Alan doesn't tell me I look like Darwin Deez anymore.

Now that I'm clean shaven I've gone back to looking like that other pop star people say I look like.... the one with the high pitched voice and questionable sexuality.

Mika.

Looking like Mika is kind of like looking like a sandwich your friend has forgotten about, and then when you remind them that they do know the type of sandwich and have had it before, they just shrug their shoulders and get a tandoori chicken wrap.

I wish I still looked like Darwin Deez. He made having a pedophile's moustache feel lighthearted and fun.

4 stars.

Emily Browning's official website

I dream of a simpler life. A life where I’ll come home from work, read a book, cook dinner and cuddle up with my cute girlfriend. I won’t even think about logging into facebook chat, or watching Jersey Shore or going to the pub to get drunk.

When I dream this, the role of my girlfriend is played by Emily Browning. Have you seen her? She’s that beautiful and wholesome looking pixie girl from the film Lemony Snicket’s and that weird new action film Sucker Punch.

I saw her once at a festival. I didn’t talk to her. I tripped on a stick and made an awkward cough noise. That was my moment. It’s gone forever. Now I just log onto this website, click through pictures of her and daydream of a life I don’t have. Sigh.

5 stars

Writing the word "cheese" 100 times

Cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese...

Writing the word "cheese" 100 times is a pointless and poor excuse for a post. Are you disappointed? Annoyed? Angry? I don't care, I've gone and done it anyway, and I'm gonna give it 5 stars. Take that ya brother kicker!

5 stars.

Head colds

I'd heard people say it before, head cold. "I have a head cold," they'd say. Or, "Sorry, I can't come and play Nintendo with you, I've got a head cold."

My reaction would always be, "What the frik is a head cold?"

Well now I know what a head cold is because right now I have one.

It's kind of like a feeling where you just want to go home and bury your head in the couch cushions and drink tea in a wooly jumper, a wooly jumper that wraps around your head and keeps you warm and safe from the rest of the world. Nothing will penetrate your little woollen head fortress. And until you make your little woollen head fortress underneath the couch cushions you just feel chilly and vulnerable and tired and weak and a bit like a whiney whine annoying guy.

That's what a head cold is. It's also called winter.

2 stars.

Great Moments in History

Osama Bin Laden is dead.

It was announced today. He died like a week ago or something but it was announced today. People rejoiced in America. It was the talk of facebook.

Barack Obama made a speech. We watched it in the office on my laptop. It was an amazing moment, millions upon millions of people all over the world were hearing the same words at the same time, as they were spoken by Obama. This was history.

But a much greater moment in history happened today. It happened on my drive home. I was listening to Triple J and there were experts discussing what all this means. People were calling in, giving opinions on the matter, suggesting that perhaps this will mean more terrorism, that perhaps this event is not so great... And then it happened. A genius and profound thought broadcast for our nation to hear and reflect upon:

"Yeah, I saw Obama's birth certificate and his middle name is Hussein...." said the caller innerer.

"Umm, ok," responded the Triple J presenter after a few seconds of awkward silence. "And what has that got to do with anything?"

The caller innerer had an answer for that. And my lord it was a good one. One that will change the way we view all of this, the events of September 11, the war on terror, the killing of the world's most famous terrorist...

"Obama rhymes with Osama."

5 stars.

Anticlimaxes

I'm back man! Totally. It's the first of May, man. I turn 25 in May. Man, how good is that going to be? This month is gonna be so totally crazy good, man. Starting with getting No Stars back and happening.

I just woke up. When I did I thought to myself, "Hey, it's a new month, I should start the blog again like I've been promising. What's stopping me? Sure I never finished that article for Koops that had been holding me back this whole time, sure one of my best friends deleted me off facebook because of that, sure I've got a whole bunch of other writing I should be doing, sure I kinda need to pee and should get out of bed... but really, what's stopping me?"

So I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. While I was in the bathroom I thought about the triumphant return of No Stars. How great that first post would be. How funny. How heartfelt. How brilliant. It's going to make people feel something. It's going to make people smile. Make their chests warm. Make them think of their own lives. Make them realise that life is profound and wonderful and horrible and all these things. I pictured myself writing the post and then walking down the street for a coffee in slo motion, hi-fiving everyone as I walked past. It would be sunny and I would be really good looking.

I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and jumped back into bed. I grabbed my laptop and clicked around facebook for 24 minutes. Then I logged into No Stars and stared at the new post screen. "Where do I start?" I thought. "Where is the brilliance? Where is the heart, the humour..."

I had nothing... then I wrote this. What a disappointment. Can't believe I turn 25 this May. This is going to be the worst month ever. 1 star.

Breaking Promises

I said I'd write one review everyday.

I missed two when I was drunk on the Gold Coast for work.

I've missed like 5 or something since I got back from that evil place because I'm meant to be finishing a magazine and writing this other thing for this other guy and stuff. He called me today (hi Mark) and I was scared to answer, but he was really nice so that made me smile and I like smiling so that was good.

But yeah, I've fully broken the promise I made to this blog and that is super lame. I'm not going to write on here again until all that is finished either. Mad shame, so much interesting shiz is happening.

Like today I went to court and my lawyer had an unusually red face and the dude on trial before me was a British backpacker who was dressed kinda nice. He'd beaten the shit out of his brother who was also a British backpacker. I sat next to him and thought, "he's dressed nice now, but I bet he wasn't dressed nice when he beat the shit out of his brother."

So much good stuff... but no time. No stars.

Not doing stuff because you're meant to be doing other stuff

I haven't made any pictures for the last few posts. I'm meant to be writing an article for Koops Magazine. It was due so many weeks ago I'm not even sure how many, that's how many. Lots. The article is almost finished but almost isn't not almost.... if ya get me.

The Editor, Mark, is angry. He also looks at this blog. So if I make pictures for the past blogs he'll be even more angry with me. I don't want him to be more angry with me. I like Mark.

Mark is probably reading this right now. Hi Mark.

So that's why there haven't been any of my mediocre pictures in a while. 1 Star

Pointing and laughing at people with down syndrome

I was driving down Ocean Street, Narrabeen. It was Sunday evening and the sun was setting. It was lovely. Lovely for a walk.

I was dropping a friend off. We were talking and stuff. Then I saw a guy with a funny walking style.

"Look at the way that guys walks," I said.

"He waddles," I said.

"Ha," I pointed.

My friend said nothing. We got closer. The silence in the car became more silenty.

"Oh no," I said.

"Oh frik," I said

We got close enough to get a good look at him. He had down syndrome. I had pointed at and made fun of a man with down syndrome.

"Oh you are the worst human ever," said my friend. No stars.

Narrow eyes

My friend draws pictures of people. He can draw girls in this really lovely way. He told me the secret, and it's not just the secret to drawing girls, it's the secret to pretty girls.

I used to think the secret combo was big eyes, small nose but that's wrong. A big nose on a girl can be awesome. No, the secret is wide set eyes.

Man, it's so true. Last night I saw a girl with big wide set eyes and a small nose and I semi fell in love. She was amazing.

The thing about this secret though, is that it comes with knowledge that once known will change your life forever. Ya ready? You sure you wanna hear this? You sure? 'Cause I tells ya, once you realise this thing, it cannot be unrealised.

Ok. Here goes...

While people with wide set eyes are beautiful, people with narrow eyes are fucking weird.

Narrow eyes. My friend told me this, and then all of a sudden I was surrounded by them. Narrow eyes on that guy. Narrow eyes on this guy. Narrow eyes, narrow eyes, narrow eyes. I don't trust em, and for good reason too. Narrow eyes are the trait of swindlers and grifters and other shady types.

Narrow eyes make me uneasy. 1 star.

Coca-Cola from a can

It's totes heaps better than from a bottle. 5 stars.

Not meeting Kelly Slater

Last night the magazine I work for, Surfboard Riding and You, they had a party. I was there.

It was cool. It was at the Snapper Pro. There were coronas and surfers and people who like surfing and lots of people shmoozing and lots of people asking what each other do and lots of people saying that that is awesome.

At one point Kelly Slater came into the room. He walked in and everyone pretended not to stare at him while they stared at him. He hung out for a bit. He drank a wheatgrass juice. He made a speech and gave an award. He talked to the people he knew and the people he knew hugged him and patted him on the back.

The brave, the drunk and the less self conscious went up and introduced themselves and took photos with their iPhones. I just walked sort of near him and stared at him while pretending not to stare. Then he left. Five stars.