Happy Birthday to me. I am nineteen and you probably aren't.

Eighteen was about boys. Allan, Daniel, Peter, Sam, Aaron, Simes, Matt, Steenhofs, Mike, Sim, Matthew, Gianni, Mogli. Nineteen will be about girls. Ingrid, Harriet, Andrea, Jen, Celia, Robyn, Katherine, Carly, Catharine, Nic, Casey, Beth.

Eighteen was about contentment. Nineteen will be about faster fitter stronger browner richer and more generous.

Eighteen was about narrative. Nineteen will be about content.

Eighteen was about riffs. Nineteen will be about rhapsodies.

Eighteen was about me. About me learning about things to make me rich. Computers to make me clever. God to make me confused. Nineteen will be about community. Blogging for community. Texting for community. Keeping in touch. Drinking and cooking and reading out loud for community. Computers to make the artist's co-op workable, developed; sustained and increasing community. God to be outside of my systems, unsubjected.

There may be some overlap.

Friday I built french doors for our hut up in the hills, and had a nice booze-up and camp-fire and double-spoon with Andrea and Sam. I fell out of a tree from about 4 meters and thought I was dead. Now I think I just have a little whiplash.

Saturday I got ripped off by the second hand merchant who told me the lengths of corrugated iron were 6 meters when in fact they were 5.3. Still, we got a wall and a half finished, and Dad's quiet approval. Then we went for a swim at Andrea's and then, spurred by Thursday's success, me and Simes did another roast and merlot evening. This time was at Robyn's house wot she is sitting; I had the forethought to invite Aaron. Goodtimes.

Also Dan made me a hot hot Manfest Documentary video and we are investigating burning it to VCD and sending it worldwide to all my beautiful people.

I miss Allan.

Uhhhhhhhhh. Manfest.

Best 48 hours in long time, oh yes.

Started with a morning's work with the missing-finger kitchen installers Thomas and Anirou. Finished at lunchtime, boss told me to do what I like, so I joined Daniel in editing the Manfest Trifecta video. Having worked 24 of the previous 34 hours, I fell asleep on his couch at about 4.30, and didn't wake til Simes came round with free pizza at 7.30.

Being in only my work gears, I borrowed a lame white shirt off Daniel and a shower-in-a-can and went down to Foodtown with the boys to buy Corona and Guiness in preparation for Jen's my-parents-are-away party (yes, we still have those...).

Present at the shindig were the once-despised Otago sojourners, a welcome sight after a year-long absence. Had a good ole D&M with Bronwyn, which was a suprise. Some of our friends hooked up, hilarity ensues (I think that's enough on that subject). At the party I ticksted the boss: "What are we going to do at work tomorrow? I am at a party, and want to know how hard I should go." I took his reply, "Go for your life" seriously, drinking and dancing and smoking and spooning the night and most of the morning away. I whipped up my beloved bacon mushroom tomato fry-up, that even gorgeously dread-locked vegetarian Jen couldn't resist (it was later revealed devouring large hunks of dripping rare meat is a psuedo-sexual fantasy of said vego hippie).

Four hours after crashing at 4.30, I woke knee-deep in party-debris. Being a suave guy (Jen told us we are suave. That's when I realised she is cool), I cleared up all the mess, shampood the carpet, and did the dishes. We all played Thomas the Tank Engine Racegame and Battleships for a bit, til people had to go to work, and people had to go get stoned elsewhere, leaving Pete, Rob, Jen, and myself. The four of us spent the whole day doing notalot, sitting in the sun, drinking a very little, listening to Jen's library-trained storytelling (Where the Wild Things Are. so hot), taste-testing various flowers in the garden, reading, microwaving CD's, sending frisky ticksts to Robyn O; the usual. When the sun threatened to be replaced by cloud and wind around 4.30, I was faced with the challenge of an indoor activity. None of us having really eaten all day, my mind tunred to food and the three boys walked down to the Waterloo shops, to get a couple lamb chops from the local butcher, and more vegetables than you can shake a stick at. We went back to Jen's and roasted up the potato, kumura, parsnip, tomato, capsicum, corgette, garlic, carrot, and mushrooms and had a proper sitdown dinner with a nice Merlot and candle-light.

I want a nice flat with a breakfast bar and 3 boys and a girl and sun and cooking and reading and wine and nice dinners.

I hear this is Thanksgiving, today. Then we had the best Thanksgiving ever.

The other night for the all blacks vs france game, we headed down to the local.
you could tell it was the local, because i'm sure the bar staff served drinks to people on a first name basis. after having a few bazzas we headed off in our vans and parked up on this winding dirt road around the sea. just as we had parked up 2 pissed old maori men stumbled by and started talking. the less drunk of the 2 (murry I think his name was, very indiginous name I felt) started telling me about the history of the maori on waiheke and how the place names came to be. as he talked his voice was deep and his shadow stretched high on the cliff wall behind him.
the long story short was auckland tribes wanted waiheke kumera, came, raided waiheke, killed off the waiheke tribes and got their kumera. I think the moral of the story was, aucklanders havnt changed in terms of greedyness.

I made $5 yesterday by giving an asian tourist a tour of the island in my van. i charged him$15 and it only cost me $10.
"thankyou fliend, is that how you say? fliend?"

I go party in this beautiful waiheke rain now. makes for quite dangerous driving when your wipers dont work.
there are a supprising amount of wild turkeys on the road too.

I came this close to landing a varial kickflip tonight. I think when I get the grand that is owed me by various sources, I will blow some on a skatiedeck. Also, I am a generous punk, email richarddbartlett at hotmail with your postal address and I will buy you a nice CD or something. excludes Wellingtonians. Sorry shmucks. It is my borthday next week, if you're not running round Lake Taupo or at Sarah's 21st, come round to my place on Friday, beer and bbq and bush baby; stay the night, get a little feral, then join us at the Black Seeds show at Indigo on Saturday night.

I have spent the day making stencils. My favorites so far:

Hi I'm a guy
a guy that's been working in a bookstore where they sorta jerk around his hours but otherwise are cool. This morn I got a call from the cousin, wanting me to come work; finally I am in that position to pit one against the other, to achieve exactly the hours I require For My Purposes. Those hours being everything-and-everything up until Thursday night. Friday being the day we have awaited for so long, Manfest 5 (name TBA), the completion of our illegal backbush hut. This time we are getting walls up and doors on, followed by a BBQ and quite possibility ridiculous quantities of Beer. The festivities continue over night (Sam wants a LAN party. maybe Sam, maybe), and we can spend Saturday building furniture, bunks, buying and installing matresses, cookers, gas et al. If we get time and enough boys around it would be nice to shift some brick up - make a fireplace and eventually a fire-bath.

I have to go now. Three more weeks of work before me and Pete cut loose, to leave our mark (so to speak) on the North Island of this fair land. Meebee I get camera.

Hi, The Internet, how have you been? Sorry I have been away for a bit, there was a question of access for a few days there. I am also sorry that I can now only enjoy your delights via dial-up. I also must apologize for my lack of committment while I consider the possibility of paying for 2Mb/s. Also, to the Microsoft Corporation, it is with deep torment I confess my flirtations with the possibility of getting an iBook. Perhaps you could help me contain this temptation by releasing a notebook that actually looks good.

Truly I have gone astray, I am weak but thou art m1ghty.

Hi I'm a guy
a guy living on waiheke island.
I've spent the last 2 nights in a van, and will probably spend a lot more nights in it.
Still looking for jobs at the moment, but thats cool. its been nice waking up on a new beach both mornings. Ben doesnt touch my bum in the night which is kinda dissapointing. there are a supprising ammount of boy racers on the island and some of them need fighting I feel.
Anygay, this feels more like a letter to mum than anything else, so I might stop, and go for a swim
later babys

So, I havn't written in a while. With good reason mind you, I have not much to say other than "Im getting broadband!" and, "I GET ECKS BOCKS!1". Richard tells me I should write stuff. So heres some stuff. Because as you all know, we like stuff.

I sat my last exam today, I can smell the failure already, but I care not, I am done with that subject and quite possibly done with my current high school. As my brother did, I might move to Auckland (my home actually) to finish schooling, becasue quite frankly where I am now is, the suck. This being my last exam (most peoples first) I now have about 3 months to get fat, become more sedatory than I am now, grow a beard, work out how im going to pay a large debt because of me being an asshole and lose all literary skills because of computer games. Aww yeah!

If you like blogs, and I know you do, thats why you're here, not because Al, Pete, Rich or Myself (hah!) are one of your friends, but because you are some sort of bloggaholic or enjoy the occasional sip of blog. And also, if you like mum's, particularly your own, which I *hope* you all do, you may enjoy this article of a man who is, well, in his words, "so fucked".

And for all you blog writers yourselves who phj34r the r34p3r and think this will happen to yourself, our gracious hosts, Blogger have provided some... Help?

That will be all. Enjoy your time off friends! And if you happen to be in the neighbourhood, please come hit me with a brick or something equally as heavy/painful, because it doesn't seem likely that I am leaving this chair or the fantasy world of Star Wars Galaxies.

Finally, after years of married bliss, Ivan and Cher have the two kids they have been dreaming of since the honeymoon.

I think I am starting a comic.

The first installment:



It is the story of Ivan and Cher, Ivan the clumsy yet good-natured bloke, and Cher the dainty, shapely fiery lass who simply ~loves~ lasagna. The first installment tells of how they met.

I just finished reading the tenth chapter of Nick Hornby's About a Boy. I don't know what it is about me and fiction; I just don't get it. The characters are all completely unconvincing and self-contradicting. No way is Marcus both a nerd and a sod. No way is Will so readily convinced he is uncool after spending so many hours perfecting his cool. When I finish this book, someone can explain to me why it was a bestseller. I mean, yes, it is a page turner, but as the Matrix has shown us, once you come up with a few premises, writing stories is easy. It's the execution and direction that make a good piece.

I am willing to accept that I am just weird and/or hardout and/or gay and should never read books anyway. I'm going to go dig holes and work on a van.

Word on the street: Rich and Pete are cool; so cool in fact, they are approaching Allan's coefficient of cool. Behold:

This month: chop and change between digging stuff at home and stackign stuff at Dymocks in town (thanks Pete's mum). Next month: hitch the hike up to Auckland with Peter. Then ferry across to Waihiki to meet Al and Ben for New Years. Brace yourselves, this is where it gets a little cahrazzy: after the New Years hang has worn off, me and Pete are buying bicycles and riding home. All 6- 7- 800 kilometers from Auckland to Wellingtown. Might detour round Rotorua and Hawke's Bay. Or maybe New Plymouth, go see the Mogli. Days after we get home we will have to make our way back to the Big Day Out to see Muse, Aphex Twin, and Metallica among others. Their website actually says "The Big Day Out is so hot right now." This is getting great!

(This basically means we are all giving up the internet for summer. How cool is that!?)

o8oo my server was deleted for no apparent reason, so don't cry when only half this site, and carly's site and maybe some of dan's site + my brother's school site don't work. gee aye why.

Matrix Revolutions is the Coldplay of movies. Some girls will like it, and think they are pretty cultured and/or deep, that this is a Thing That Matters. And to be fair, I thought it would Matter as well, up until I saw the Asian introduce the Indian kid to the Afro-American. The greatest triumph of the second film barely made a showing. For those of you who haven't yet wasted twelve huck, here is the plot: fight fight fight fight love fight fight peace.

The best bit was when <major character> spent ten minutes dying, and (slightly boozed) Tim, Jono, and I started the dramatic (obnoxious) crying from the fourth row. It wasn't too long before the occaisonal snicker turned into full-blown open-throated guffaws from a goodly portion of the crowd, spoiling the most intense scene the Wackchowxsckshi Brothers could ever hope to create.

Conclusion: it was all yellow.

It seems that Richard manages to always subtly tell my stories before I do, but I'll tell it anyway.


yes summer is here, and that means sun fun and love. And I have followed through my plan. I quit my job, collected my holiday pay and purchased a van. the van wasn't quite up to roadworthy standards but a few days of hard work, bolting on a new door from the wreckers today, and after a good engine fix and tune up she'll be ready to hit the road.

Ben, who is coming with me has already purchased a 12 volt fridge for her and today we shopped for cookers, car seat covers and deck chairs.
We are moving to a remote island off the city of auckland called waiheke island where we will live in our van and work for the summer and hopefully meet many amazing people.

if your thinking "his life is pretty cool" right now, its because you're right, it is.

Me and Al are officially Quite Cool and/or Hardout. We spent the last two days disassembling and cleaning and purging and carburetting and now he has a van that works. W00t! With a new door she will be ready for the WoF (and christening?), then it's into the back with the MDF to kit her out with bench seats + table = double bed.

Last night after the Fworks I went to Ange's 21st at the Bodge and Dave kissed me on the lips. He has softer lips than any girl. We made peacock calls. On the way home we gave a ride to hitch-hiking clown Nigel. He gave Ange a balloon that had another balloon in. Ange is making me a shirt.

Today I am chopping wood and redesigning Carly's blog. Pity she is such a Republican and won't let me go too hardout. Wussface.

I had a dream last night:

I woke up somewhere velvetty with some blonde in my bed. She was little and toit, Scandinavian maybe? Don't know what she was doing there, nor did she. So we are in beed. Hangin, chillin, spoonin. Some days go past. Turns out she is qoit cool. At some point she turns into a piece of firewood. No matter, we still get along fine, the casual conversation, the cas spoon, still in bed. Then she says "Well, we knew this day would come. If our relationship is going to go anywhere, we are going to have to make up a new form of lust." So I tore the bark off of her, and I don't really know how to describe what happened next.

When I was in primary school I was labelled a post-modernist, when I suggested stories would be cooler with sad endings sometimes. I obviously didn't grow out of it, my favorite novel of all time is The Name of a Rose, written by the man who invented the word 'hyper-reality'. Also explains why I want Agent Smith to win.

Stuff is weeod. I have no job, all a'sudden. Had I known this earlier, I could've accompanied Al to Waihiki Island for the epic 3-month adventure, instead of being usurped by Ben. Current options appear to be:

- be an interbum (no significant change to present lifestyle)
- find some labouring job (50 60 70 hours, I'm over it)
- go with Al and Ben up the Island, sleep in a tent and/or backpackers. Get a cafe job or just party til I am broke and hitch all the way back home.

I know where my preference is lying at the mo.

Where has Peter been?
The question on everyones lips for the last few weeks no doubt.
My computer broke. Big time. this is the second time I've used a computer in three-or-so weeks. Bad thing is that the hard drive is fucked. I have been told that everything is lost however our computer guy is looking at it at the moment to confirm it. I'm not happy. It's not the MP3s, it's not the games, it's not even my writing, it's loosing all my photos that craps me off big time.
Now for a brief re-cap.
Holiday in Dunedin. See best friend for the first time in ages. Meet best friends new girlfriend. See Shapeshifter live. Drink beer. Become proper friends with my ex-girlfriend. Get a job at the Syn, the bar I've wanted to work in for ages. Go to the Hell Pizza halloween party up at Syn ($5000 bar tab... yes five grand worth of free booze).
I'm Happy. I hope you all are. I have missed you.

Good to be back.