It's gonna take a lot of love, to get us through the night

You might notice, Pat In Australia is experiencing a bit of a comeback.

I am attributing this to the fact that I feel like I should be writing more, but don't have much other than my boring life to actually write about.

And before you say "Oh Pat, you should write a book" let's both just take a step back and think about what that books would include. In my head, about the only thing that I could write about is the relationship with my parents, my INCREDIBLY stupid years in college, lots and lots of sex...both good and bad but none of which is going to be terribly interesting and in most cases would be a reason why nearly all of my friends WOULDN'T read this book, and Australia.

I wouldn't want to read that. Would you? Nahhhhhh.

So that's where I'm at, a want to write more, an urge to be more prolific and express some creativity, but without an outlet. What do writers who aren't going to be novelists write about to...you know, write and be creative?

In other news, I had my first Dr. Pepper in 11 months today. Totally great. It's somewhat insane how my body reacts to food I haven't had in a long time. I start salivating excessively and basically become a cross between a little gross redheaded monster and an 11 year old on a sugar rush. But the Dr. Pepper was great, and I don't even really like Dr. Pepper that much. In the case there was also Mountain Dew Code Red...and I almost got one of those too, but you know, two soft drinks in one sitting would make me fat.

Updating the resume has been a trial; everything is in size 10 font. I need to get my machete attack up on this CV and get it back to something legible. Oh and in case you didn't click the link, what's up with machete's and Australians? Yeah, click it sucka.

Went to see The Scare Thursday, and once again, Too Many Creeps (a clubnight) totally failed. First it was Wendy James' horrible DJ set, and now it was by booking the band Madonna. Who sound like the identity crisis of a 15 year old boy. Somewhere between screams and breakdowns, Primus inspired bass solos (with a blind melon tee shirt), and a ska band without horns (but a micro Korg!) lies Madonna. And way too many people like this band. There were at least 5 people REALLY into it at the show. Way. Too. Many.

Anyways, The Scare were terrible, and I thought I gave them a good writeup so I felt extra used. The song on myspace is alright, but not even whiskey could save me after the others. I had to just smoke some meth and then go machete attack some kids down the street. Oh just kidding.

There are two promising parties coming up soon though... A Milli: The Party (of course a Lil Wayne, WEEZY F BABY theme) and Ferris Bueller's Gay Off. That gay night has a good sense of humor. Especially since they throw it at a place called Brown Alley. Ew.

Oh you should check out the latest post (it's pretty old) on Elizabeth Carey Smith's blog. She's the shit. She's married to a boy who's the shit. She used to be the senior designer for BUST. I have a lot of secret admiration for her, it might be creepy of me. But I totally agree with everything she says in the latest post.

http://dangerousgirlinsafetytown.blogspot.com/

I'm off to find some Mountain Dew. And chocolate. Being skinny is for the birds.

p.s. - I've found a new favourite Neil Young song, as the title indicates.