Fatlo.af

You heard me, I mean it too. I think we all need to get punked, wear torn clothes, colour our hair and wear black nailpolish. After all, thats what I did and look at me, I’m just fine.

There’s something in that for all of us.

There was a reason for all this though, I didn’t just suddenly feel like Ramoning up my weekend or going a bit Billy Idol. My good friend Miles had his 30th birthday last week and decided that since 1976 was the unofficial birth of punk, he’d have a punk party.

With stipulations on having punk-like attire “or else” being emblazened on the invites, it was imperative that I look the part. So I did what any hetereosexual male would do, I put on black nailpolish, black eyeliner and coloured my hair purple. It seemed like the right thing to do to me.

What was cool about the party was the fact that everyone put in effort into their costumes. Megan, the wife of another friend Greg, put in a stellar effort with her hair. Admittedly she looked like an oversized cockatoo but the effect was brilliant none-the-less. I’ve got some photo’s to put up, but in the mean time, check out miles’ photo’s instead.

By the end of the evening I was covered in fake tattoo’s, had writing on my knuckles and the eyeliner was starting to run. It was worse for Miles though, he got thrown in the pool. It was a bit cold.

I headed down to the Bay after that to meet up with Spence and Jeff, they were being bikers that night and had decided that the foot traffic down at the Bay deserved a stop, sit and a bit of a watch.

In my punk regale, quite a few people didn’t want to look at me, it was quite amusing. I could snarl at people and they wouldn’t think anything of it. Spence laughed and Jeff wasn’t quite sure what was going on until it was explained that I don’t get about like it all the time.

We all parted ways a couple hours later, Spence and I went the same way home with me trying to keep up with him popping the front wheel up on his GSXR whenever possible. He was complaining that he couldn’t get it right that night. Pansy.

It was a bit of fun though, I would drop it down a couple of cogs, stomp on the loud pedal and a few seconds later Spence would be several hundred metre’s in front of me. Stupid sports bikes. We did get up to some speed on the way home, I was too busy watching the road to take notice of exactly how fast though.

After doing quite a bit of sport last week, volleyball a couple of times, a soccer/touch football hybrid on Friday, running 2km on Thursday, my lower back and groin were telling me to stop and have a bit of a rest. Sunday is where I did that, sort of.

I did lay about a bit on Sunday, first on the futon then on the bed upstairs. All that resting left me exhausted though so I took the rest of the day off. Mum and Dad got back from Cairns later in the evening so I had to be refreshed to have conversations about going to a place I’d love to be at and wasn’t while they were.

I did get a cool new necklace though, Mum know’s I have a reasonable amount of jewellery so its a lovely addition.

As of last night, the Eeyore Beach Volleyball team is in existence and is set to launch itself into competition with furious power and misguided attention. I’m sure we’ll be fine. The lineup is currently myself, Rohan, my sister Nicole, Spence, a good friend of mine George and his son Jokam. The Eeyore soccer guys know Jokam, Kieran titled him “the little black feller” when we played the RM Allstars. A fairly good lineup I’m sure. I’m trying to get a couple of others to play as well just to make sure we’ve got a good choice if a couple can’t make it.

Anyway, my time here is done. Good day for now.