This is the beginning of somthing new.
Skooter (SF4LNZ) told you I would be back……
test one-TEW!
SF4L
M
7
x
-Letter to Jacobi.
Suckin’ on my jaw
Pullin’ on decay
It didnt work last night
and its not gonna work today.
-New song on next album.
My last attempt at this was pathetic.Usually its that I write here and neglect my journal or visa versa. I just havent been writing at all outside a few well constructed emails.
And here I am on the road,in a band and even if I told you what I had been up to its not all that different from anything you got from me the last time.
We play our last show tonight and go back to Germany.I dont mind all the crap that comes with this job its just not playing that kills me.I get foggy on why the hell I am here.Playing in a band finds me doing what I want to do [ie;sing] less than anything else. Ha!
God hates me.
We ended up sitting around waiting to play. thats about it.
Me and Ross went to dinner with the owner of our record company.Thomas Jenson.It was really cool. Ah me! My life! One second I am in a marble clad silk swathed bar,complete with tinkly piano music .. drinking virgin bloody marys and seeing myself flash up on a lap top screen in Rose tattoos new filmclip and the next back in a squat in the same outfit I have lived in for the last 4 months being a Myspace whore and trying to push the band out there.
This is why I laugh till I weep.Its fucking insane.
Going through the whole “Flight or Fight” thing again at the moment.Oh Love! You dont like me much do ya? Ya let me think that I can do it,that this time I can make it happen…
Shit.
I think that my stomach is eating itself.I dont sleep right.I get letters and everyones life is a friday nite up in lights shit fight.Saint Tina says “We always say that things will get better next year and they never do….” The good vibe is worn down by mid january.
Gotta do the horror trip home now.back to Hamburg for a night and then being as brain dead as I can get on the trip home.I am hating it all but most of all I am hating myself.
Again.
Its hitting a peak.
I know that in reality nothing would have changed when I get back but it all does.I drop in and out like a holiday uncle.When people ask how it was I edit and tap dance to distract them from the fact that I am not really saying all that much.
Surrounded by all these happy motivated people makes me feel like even more of a stain.
Just get me out of here.get me away from my band so that I can miss them again.Remove me from the “holier than thou”.
If Ross dont have the keys to the studio we are fucked.I dare not go and wake him up to ask him as its only 10 in the morning and we are all aware that this is the last solid sleep that we are all really gonna get till we get home.
Metz writes me and asks me if I am happy or excited yet.If I knew that i wasnt walking into an utter shitfight I would be.And here was me thinking that I was doing so fucking good and all.
Its the getting there that kills me.I hate travel.I need to get some balance into my life cause every sinew and fibre of my being is says..
“Pst! …HEY! Lard ass! You dont need to go home and work! what are you???NUTS??? Drop out dude! Go to the shack and re insert your head up your butt,I mean,who cares right…..”
And this goes on for hours and keeps me awake.
I wonder why I dont drop out all the time.Its mighty hard to get back up again once you do.So many people to see when I get back home and although I know that it will be a long line of grand tea soaked reunions I am numb and I want to crawl under a rock and fucking die.
again
This is my curse.my duality.Want to be up in lights dont want anyone to be near me ever.
The Squat that has put up with me and ross has been amazing.Phil,one of the dudes that lives here is an old spewtown warrior from way back.I have watched every dvd that the man has.The food and company has been brillant.Alas,I have not been running as shooting is the new black this season in Brixton and that I fell into my addled brain again.
Having arguments via email with this time delay is trying and sad.Quel sigh.
Thanks to all who have gone out of their way to be amazing on this run and to all who got the new album.
Get me to a gym and a good shower! that way I will be ready to rock shit with y’all at 77 on the 23rd.
Im gonna try and take a break so I will have somthing to give you.
SF4L
Michele
Nov 20th 06’Ahhhh.
Addled and a bit crusty.I am plugged in down in the living room kinda watching ‘Monster ‘ with a gaggle of french punx while Slayer play down the road at the Brixton academy.I told ross while we were walking home form the bookshop on Electric ave today “I cant pinpoint what makes me tick today”
That scares me.
Sad to say that there is really not that much to report.The tequila just come out…
We pulled out of the Paris show.Sad but in the long run it was not worth it this run but we are gonna head back next summer.
Looks like we are gonna do the home show on Dec 23rd at my most beloved Club 77.
Ash is going home for a few months and I think that Ross would be happy if he never saw me again and Mikey? I dunno what he is up to….
here it is…
Play at the mean fiddler on friday the 24th of november-get on plane -go to hamburg-watch band get drunk and buy slutty boots that i have had my eye on for months- get on plane-fuck around in taipei for 16 hours-get on another plane-Sydney.
Thank you and good night.
I might try this again later.
SF4L
Michele
I’m tired and I wanna go to bed
I had a little drink about and hour ago and its gone right to my head.
-Trad.
I use my mistakes against you.
-Tool.
If they fell into a barrel of tits they would suck their thumbs.
-Jasco SF.
Before I really get into it?
Fuck you.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Isn’t that better?
You try it. Say it like you mean it and say it to the one that you know deserves it’ cause really?
Who cares?
Do you?
If you do it will pass…. you can push it as well…. feel free to liberate yourself With every breath.
Caring, especially when indescrimatly and unwisely will cost you. Trust me. The interest rates are a cunt and the bills keep on a-coming.
I can’t be bothered. Why harbour almost rans and mediocrity? The lame, the ones that are not going to come good. Do I look like Mother Theresa?
Inhale and on the exhale?
Fuuuuuuuuuuuck you.
It’s all about balance and how dramatically it can veer within ones self if you let it. I find myself muttering the serenity prayer like the old addict that I am and trying not to completely lose my mind. I was addicted to trying to find the right ones to have around me. It was a need. The need of need, the worst drug of all.
I died and was resurrected time and time again. A Las Vegas Jesus 3 shows daily watch me roll away my rock and get fucked by my 12…. free popcorn. And voucher parking.
Fuck you.
I go to bed dizzy. Every muscle in my corpse hating me, burning.
Hating me as much as I hate it. Knowing that I will be pulling my stinking running gear back on in 7 hours to stumble over the frost crusted earth. I don’t wake up till 20 minutes in. Everything killing me and I fucking love it.
I love it like I would love a whore; like I would love all the ones that don’t love me…they will never love you back. They don’t even know that you exist unless it serves them. I am bowed beneath a hateful thing a pain divine and I can’t get enough.
I am blown away by how little gets done in the music industry. I laugh now. It’s a cruel sound; one that I wish didn’t emanate from me but what the fuck am I ment to do? I am yuckkin it up cunts.
There is nothing ever set in stone. Goddamn nothing ever set at all and I am down to a fine art here.
Zen for the terminal and trust free.
Hateful fucking creatures that we must deal with….all of us.
I am set in good ways here so its not fucking with me too much but my anger is being kept on a steady and productive boil. People never fucking cease to amaze me. People who I thought were more stand up and are so patiently fucking not. Talk shit to me about some one and then go out to dinner with them where you are more than likely talking shit about me.
See this? No, beyond the middle finger that I am holding steady about an inch from you nose you dumb fuck…this! This is me giving up on fucking all of you. You lying traitorous bastards and I feel all the better for it as y’all suit each other into the fucking ground.
How is Germany?
I don’t know…. I could be anywhere really and I think that is a redeeming feature of my somewhat meagre coping mechanisms. I have my thing and I stick to it. Run morning and night the wind so biting that my fingertips and nose are numb by the time I get to the back of the Reperbahn. I have lost alot of weight and am 11kgs off my fighting weight now.
I feel like I want to kill everything that gets in my way but for the 1st time it is quiet. It’s not flying a flag. It sees annilation as a task on its path to somewhere else. I think this is good. Its not making me happy per say but it does feel correct and in this shit storm that is going down smooth with me.
Why do I bother? No one wants to be fixed…they just want you to listen agree and make sympathetic noises in all the right places.they go back to the bottle, return to the one that beat them, that hurt them all while you were there for them trying to help.
Fuck help and fuck you.
If you cant help yourself fuck you.
I will be over here watching if I can think of nothing better to do
I hate all my own weaknesses so what makes me think that i am going to be privy to yours.
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
I would rather be alone. The days that I want to name names? Oh darling…. so many of them
Don’t you DARE get up in my grill and look at me like I am the little man while you pontificate half pissed again. Too fucked up your whole life to even try and see what you would be like with out all the shit that you hide behind. I fucking hate you.
I have track 7 on Doom Saloon and more balls than you will ever fucking have. Cross me…go on…see who walks away. Vestiges being stripped. I don’t fucking care. I watch the world roll by out the window of a rented van with nothing but rock and roll on my side.
Fuck you.
You have to decide if you are going to be the fucker or the fuck-ee so to speak. I know where I stand. I just broke the earth for my empire.
Fuck you.
SF4L
Michele
To know is not to prove, nor to explain. It is to accede to vision.
-Saint exupery [1942]
Its not the tragedies that kill us it’s the messes.
-Dorothy parker.
A critic is a man who knows the way but cant drive the car.
-Kenneth Tynan.
You must be as clear sighted when you are loved as when you are hated. This love is only an advance payment for what they expect of you.
-Yevgeny Yevtushenko.
Think that I am going to get a tattoo of St Jude Thaddueus.Look it up sports fans. I think that it’s rather apt.
I want a bowler hat and some tights so I don’t freeze my ass off. And a pair of white converse. The shoes are an experiment; want to see how long its takes for me to get them totally trashed. Never said that it was an EXCITING life I got going on out here.
Nice to be home though. Not fucking around. It’s such an insane way to live that falling on my stained mattress in the junk room was a relief.
Found the photo of me anorexic in my mother’s garden today. Bloody hell! What is going to take to get back to that? Smoking made it all so much easier. I was missing it today and then I heard number one sons wet old man cough down at the end of the hall.
Erm, no thanks.
This is so fucked. Conked out all day and now up all nite grotty and quite inarticulate. I think that I should just give you huge wacks out of my journal but its all a bit to close to the bone in there right now so I think that I will stick with this, for what its worth. The sexy snort highlights…. I just drooled on myself…bloody hell.
Got all my papers and pics out tonite as I am alone at the table and kinda sad but maybe just a little blue if y’all know what I mean. I eyes are sore but I feel compelled to tap away as I have been in bed most of the day sick as a pig. Blah
Got a cool letter today that set loose a flood of memories, as cool and uncool letters are prone to do for that matter.
When I was but a tiny thing my Ma and I were in the front yard of our house. Saint Tina spied a woman in the yard across the road from us with a small child of her own.’ You want to go say hi?” she asked me…. hell, why not?
That day was the start of a life long friendship between both of our familles. Jen, the woman, saved me from myself when I was in the grip of some big nasty drugs and her son Ben that I met that day was the one who taught me how to play guitar.
All these years on from Campbell st in Richmond and my filthy junkiedom Ben now has his own record label and is a DJ doing his thing and I am unwashed in Europe covered in tattoos yelling at people.
“Who would have thought it?” he wrote me and I could hear the smile in is words.
Me on the edge of his bed fumbling around with his fire engine red gretch style axe under a poster of the Rolling Stones.
Amen friend.
Thank fuck for you and you family.
I have been laid low since the horror trip back from the UK.I feel totally brain damaged at all times. So fucked up that I just roll with whatever every day. I think that we all pretty much slept around the clock. I know that I did.
And it does change by the hour.The plan man…..
Our Album comes out this week. How cool is that??? A real live platter on a label!!! feel like it has been a million years in the making and Wacken was so long ago.
Tony (SF4L) went and saw Rose Tattoo the other night and he was talking to Angry about us and he,Angry,said that I am beautiful.Swoon.When your heroes see you back…he also said that he didn’t know what we are doing but that we were great at it…. [hehehe!] It’s going to be soooo good to catch up with those guys when we get home.
The letters that I get asking us to come home, and not just from the original tribe but the new ones as well just melt me. I have never felt worth as much as I am to this thing that we are..
I don’t think that I am going to get any ink while I am here even though I ask for it in every interview. I have drawn up my neckpiece though. Very Paul booth. Saint Tina is going to belt me.
I sang War Pigs under my breath as we approached Birmingham.
Think that we are going to be playing some gigs in Ireland next month as well. It’s so cool. Blackie writes me of a shitty amp and a show in NYC.They have one more week out and then home. Has it really been two months already? I am going to go look at the moon for a second…
Fucking awesome. I thoroughly recommend living in a roof top studio in Hamburg .the banana lounges are the cream on top lemme tell you.
Miss terror wants me home so that she can feed me. I have not lost that much fuckin weight! I wish! Miss Ellie had this fuckin classic poster of a very gaunt Patti smith in her stairwell that I aspire to greatly. If we move back to London I am minding her room for 3 weeks while she is in Italy with her boyfriend enzo who looks so much like Bon Scott that it’s eerie.
All I have to do is take care of her 3 gold fish and deal with shootings at the Brixton mc Donald’s and cold showers…its all do able I believe.
I am down to my last 2 batteries for my Walkman. Jesus wept.This band would have been over years ago if I didn’t listen to this thing almost every waking hour. Think that I am going to have to invest in an I pod sooner or later.
I tried to find a winter jacket today and that put me in a horrific mood.Mikey just got pissy at me, as I have not downloaded the pictures that he wants from Berlin. I just laughed at him.
The thumbprint on Ashley’s forehead is glowing. Have not seen him since we got back. The rhythm section kicked it while I lay in bed cramped and sweaty.
Have not really been writing much on the music front and I know that once Ashley has had enough of getting fucked (quel shudder) he will be back to annoying the crap out of me.
I guess that we will end up in LA doing the do sometime next year. No one I really want to see there .Be nice if Miss Anna lee was still in scum city. Sin is now living in Florida and madly in love. Good for her. It all seems so long ago. I have not really had a life to myself since I left the shed late in 03′ to really throw my lot in with the band and this life.
No wonder we all drive each other mad. But I know that it has been worth it, coming out here and showing that we are in it for the long haul. Next summer is going to be a fucking blast in Europe. You can play 2 festivals a week out here and we have finally made contact with the right crew in the UK.
We are heading back to play mid November if what I am hearing is right. Clubs that are Mecca to my fan ass.that I have been reading about in NME since I was a kid. The Mean fiddler, The Underworld…. And I know that we are going to kill it at all of them.
Bloodstock….
Now here is a fable and a fucking half for you.
We had the honour of being the 1st Australian band to ever play it so I was wrapped.
We did a small warm up show a few days before where Ashley wrote himself off, played like a bag of shit and then abused everyone.
How much he HATES London blah blah blah…
Yet another classic night. He stormed off in the rain….what ever.
The dude just can’t drink. The thing that sticks with me the most is me telling him that he broke a promise and that I cant trust him and that he had the nerve to get angry at me when he is in the wrong.
I am trying to set aside the anger and support him but it gets real fuckin hard. I am no bed of roses either but to loose it on stage is unforgivable in my eyes.
So there we are a few days later all very quite in ellies shit van trying to get out of London…. we know that we are late and its stress city.Mikey lost it…total classic melt down, stomped his sunglasses outside a servo where we stopped to get directions. Carl wrangled it that we went on at 4 30 in the other room and we still packed it out so I was happy.
Ended up in a bar with Thomas Jenson and I was so happy when ash ordered a virgin mary that I had one too.
We sold almost all our merch and I scared a little Finnish boy who was in another band. Met the Guys from terroriser.
The good mood lasted about 48 hours and then back into then mire.
Miss Ellie Skipped a heap of really cool clothes so now I have this classic black woollen punk sweater that I have already destroyed and patched. Not letting the cold piss me off is going to be a real challenge.
Don’t know if I am really up for it to tell you the truth. I imagine playing shows all sweaty in the summer back home and smirk. I am on the other side of the world. Again.
Ross gave us all 20 quid. Have you ever done London on 20 quid for 2 weeks? Thank fuck max is the squatter supreme. I ate better there than I do when I have money. No shit.
I need to be playing all the time…. it does get better with every run we do I am aware of that. You go back to a place and there are 100 heads there instead of the 20 you played to a month before. I love it. Its perfect to me.
I have been slack and not doing my press so tomorrow I will be a good dog and sit at the kogge all day and get it done. Kinda surprised how many journalists are getting into the site and asking intelligent questions. It makes it so much easier.
As Ross has updated uprooted I guess that he may update Whitetrash.
God only knows I got enough of it.
Later
SF4L
Michele.
[Ellonie Felonies squat…]Sternly, remorselessly, fate guides each of us; only at the beginning, when we’re absorbed in details, in all sorts of nonsence, in ourselves, are we unaware of its harsh hand.
-Ivan Turgenev.
Now she gets her kicks in Stepney not in Knightsbridge any more.
– The Rolling Stones.
To me, Max is already the automatic hero of this adventure as he got me my own room. My envy of him and Ross is boundless by sketchy definition. As we pulled up to the lights and they jumped out to get cheese at tescos, I watched the cross the road so in love so happy.
I told them that they need to bottle this, as it is a fine vintage.
Ross went thru me for being sad at the airport, asked me why I couldn’t just be happy to be playing in England, which by he way I am. It didn’t occur to him to ask me what was wrong.
Men can be so fucking thick like that.
I wouldn’t have told him anyway. He thinks that he is sick of us?Fuck!
At least he can get to the one that makes him happy.
I adore Max.he is fucking brilliant. Wants to get me a job putting up hookers cards in phone boxes. Tells me that it’s wicked money and a laugh. Both of which I am up for right now.
Ellie just walked in and said that it’s good to see me. No one thinks that it’s fuckin good to see me so that will keep me purring for a few days.
There is some hassle with living in Germany and I cant say that I really give a fuck right now. I guess that we will move to London then. Hell, at least I can do shit here. Got off the bus today and dove into a bin at the terminal to rescue reading matter. A copy of FHM and a paper. I have been fed well and reading since we got here.
Got a show tomorrow night then Bloodstock then another week of being here with no money. I went to exchange my last 20 bucks that I had from home and the wanted to give me 5 quid. I told em not to bother. We skip for food and wing it. Ellie has adopted me if we move back which suits me just fine. Ross and max have got a new gaff across town, Mikey is re connecting with the jazz crew and I couldn’t give a blue baboons ass where Ashley winds up as long as it is as far away from me as possible.
I ignore him and he snipes at me like the bitch that he is. I don’t care. I am in it for the band not the I used to trust him like a brother but 5 years of steady lies and dripping poison into any bond we may have shared can ruffle your tail feathers some.
How can you trust someone who doesn’t even tell you that they have moved house? I sat on his front step for an hour.
I don’t pity him, as that is just a polite form of contempt.
Manners are not my strong point at the moment.
All are downstairs watching Easy Rider but I don’t even want to be in the same room. Ross thinks that I am being rude, which is a bit of a pot vs. kettle situation but I think that we should all avoid each other as much as we can. I think that its self-preservation. I know that it’s smart.
Wow, I don’t want to spend another 12 hours of my life in a pot smoke filled room with a bunch of drunken wankers and Ashley re writing history to impress his new best mates of the night. I know what I don’t want and that is what I am going to stick to.
I have never been homesick like this before. Not that I would really be going back to much, I mean this band is it for me. They are great players a fuckin machine but as ellie showed me her room under Nick Caves black and white stare I felt my chest hitch and wanted more.
There is one set of arms that I would run to. He gives the hello kitty in my scared up corpse a girl boner. I miss him so much.
I just can’t see it today…
Tomorrow I plot out where I am going to run. Jogging in Brixton.Guess I will be doing that in daylight.
My eyes are killing me and I hate everyone.
Tell you more soon.
SF4L
Michele
-The Rolling Stones
Love that’s love not fade away.
-Buddy holly and the crickets.
Are there not little chapters in everybody’s life that seem to be nothing, and yet affect the rest of history?
-W.M Thackery.
I stay outside but live within.
-The Rollins band.
Was I better off loving people who had no idea that I was doing so?
It could last for however long I wanted.
It could be eternal if I allowed it. [I did and I still do…]
No one ever got hurt, it just drifted in its intensity, it did me a great service in longing and great prolonged bouts of sighing.
“Cheese, boredom and masturbation” as the Great Toddski would say.
That’s pretty much all you need. Amen.
So my question at large tonight is…
Is there a pre-emptive strike when it comes to getting your heart broken?
If it’s always been broken does that mean you just get another bruise?
I tell people that nothing can be taken with out your permission. Maybe I say it because I need to hear it, need to believe it.
The heart can move from the sanctity of a saviour’s hand to under the heel of their shoe with alarming speed.
Who is holding yours right now?
Makes ya feel kinda queasy huh?
I am going to go and hang with the sunset for a second.this, trying to unravel this is causing my eyes to water.
Well that didn’t help, I want to swan dive off the 9th floor more and more as time ticks on.
I feel like I am leaking here, just dripping away.
Tell you what was funny. I am overlooked all the time as in day to day life I tend to be the most socially retarded and quiet member of this band. If you have met me away from playing you know that I am telling the truth.
So, here I am living on the axis of Saint Pauli, the highest density of rock stars per capita outside of the Sunset Strip.
They walk and talk it every hour of every day, the haircuts the clothes the drinking…name it they have it down while I skulk around the perimeter in the same clothes I wore on the plane.
Behold with shock and awe.
What I am trying to say is it was great to see their jaws drop when they came to the show.
Guess that was the most that they have ever heard me talk….
Nothing like getting 200 Germans to yell “Cheers cunt!” after every song.
But back in my fucked up cranium,
Raquel calls me a misery guts and I spent 18 euros to get yelled at today trans Atlantic style.
I wonder what the hell I think I am doing trying to sustain a relationship through the folly that is my volume driven circus of a life.
This is nothing that I didn’t know all along but that little drunk sprite by the name of Hope turned up at the valentines party of my soul and danced drunk on the table, treading in the heart shaped cake, twirling her knickers around her little finger crooning “This time is different….” over and over again in my arms as I carried her to the purple limo idling in the cold, light in my arms.
Her icing coated shoe fell off in the snow.
And as she was chauffeured away I stood there under the streetlight, my breath smoking out like a drunk dragon and I foolishly threw my hat back into the ring as one does after Hope has departed and whimsy arrives by the way of natty lighting and misplaced desire.
I am going to be a teenaged cock head for the rest of my life aren’t I?
I don’t think that glamour is at a premium dating me. I can’t not do my life and I always end up loosing something. People are under the illusion that it’s not as hard to be separated if you are the one who is on the road. Which is utter shit if you are interested by the way.
Now all I do in small moonlit vans crisscrossing the continent is panic.
A right fuckin conundrum.
I nicked a packet of razors today. I have to feel something sooner or later. I met a really cool tattooist in Berlin and she is going to do the bullet hole under my chin and my neckpiece for me.
Not soon enough or enough. It never will be.
Berlin was awesome. I drove by Zoo station with my beloved Bowie crooning in my ears of being like dolphins and heroes.
Christine F man…gob smacked I was.
Miss Billie was the only feature missing for me as she carves a hot and heavy emerald path through Melbourne.
We are off to London in 2 days and then waiting to see if we have a support for 13 days in a row through the rest of Europe.
So this adds up to 10 days in England, pull an all nighter to get a plane at 6 in the morning to get back to Hamburg, swap some luggage and get on a night liner bus drive and play the 1st show that night.
Kind of craving it. Stress and all cause then I will know that I am doing something. The something that I came here to do.
Saw the final artwork today for the album, to tell the truth I had forgotten what it looked like. Seems like a million years since me and Steve sat down to nut it all out. The little girl on the back cover is my most beloved Saint Tina with her baby sister Wendy, sadly deceased. It’s a photo that I have carried around for years, I’m not even sure that she knows that I have it.
Its perfect. They look perfect to me.
Bits of my treasures all over it. Crap that I find on the ground or get given. I am glad that I got to have such a strong hand in doing this and that I got away with it. Its kind of voodoo inspired. No full sets of lyrics just bits and pieces. All the thank you lists and fleur-de-lis through the border in homage to my ink and my drowned city.
That and the autopsy cover. My favourite picture is behind the Cd.
My head is so clogged up. I am writing this at the table. At the other end Peter of Finland and Quiggs of no fixed address are doing a German lesson in fair trade of a drumming lesson. Ashley is home so I have my headphones on and cranked to the top notch to drown out his voice.
The Lemitz show was a fuckin blinder. As there is no stage I ended up bare foot on the crappy red Formica bar in a puddle of tequila with some drunk woman cooing to my foot and ruffling my leg hairs between petting the wart on my toe.
What can I say to that?
As I had a cordless mike I ran out and sang my guts out in the middle of the street. I was wearing the same rags that I had been wearing for the last 3 days and as many shows. There is a stunning point that one reaches when you know that you cant reach or drop any lower as it stands. You want to see how little you can care.
Upon walking home I passed the shop with the giant cock cake in the window. Pirates abound, as do rude Turkish men who have stopped spitting at me everytime I pass the station since I started growling at them.
I offered Ashley to people all weekend as a gift. No takers.
Over hearing nothing but German. It’s starting to make me crazy. Rest assured that I can always tell when people are giving me shit no matter what language its in.
And to all those who asked my birthday sucked fetid ass as usual.
I really can’t be fucked with this tonite. Going to run now. Sooner I get back the sooner I can have sharp things and wet white tiles. A fine reward for a not so fine person.
SF4L
Michele.
-Cold Chisel
Hurry up and wait.
-Blondie.
Some band is recording their drum tracks in the studio today. I am almost done packing up my meagre possessions. Mikey is sitting across from me sewing a patch on his shirt, deluxe is out and I still keep laughing when I think of how ash had a go at me today to impress Pete the Scottish Fin.
“All lead singers are cunts and blah blah blah….”
Do you think that he thinks that he may have had a point? It was like watching a kid having a tantrum. Pathetic and boring. I care less everyday what he thinks.
Play your fucking guitar and leave me alone.
We are on the main stage at Bloodstock round midday on sat, which I think, is pretty fucking rad. Looks like we are going to be in England for about 10 days. I am going to pack my running gear lest I go completely mad with boredom. I am covered in cuts and bruises. I do not play well with others. I stole a packet of blades. Go fuck yourselves.
I saw god in the hallway, I fucked the Holy Spirit with my sweat. Wanted to run the razor blade between all my teeth.
Got fuckin happy.
For a change..
I exist on peppermint tea and these killer yoghurt rice cakes from Denmark. Seems to keep me running. Got one more interview to do in yet another smoky phone booth today, can’t remember where it is. The dude behind the counter is fed up with writing me receipts and his wife just doesn’t like me. I pull faces at his daughters to make them laugh.
Ross has just walked in saying that it looks like our residency is a bit wobbly fuckin knew it. It’s a fuckin insane way to lead a life; they are telling us that we need health insurance and jobs. I don’t even have that in Australia. It’s always something to fuck with me. Bless Ryan air though…I don’t see how the hell we would be able to get anywhere otherwise.
I am up and down all the time. We are staying we going we are staying blah blah blah…I just want to go fishing to tell you the truth.
That and get laid.
Get my neck tattoo done.
Go to my house on the coast, not wear shoes for a month
Italy, that’s who I am calling tonight,
You do what you do…
SF4L
Michele.
-Pod People.
With all the drugs in the world.
-Courtney Love.
Misery lo!
But don’t fret too much; it’s all internal and driven by the month of September.
The weather has been stunning and I have been sunning myself on the tar roof like a big fat beached something-or-rather high above the Altona market place.
Amazing having an ozone layer for a change. It’s all so genteel.
I miss the violence of the weather at home though.
Aching for it to tell you the truth.
As I write this I can see a poster of myself, which is always a disturbing way to start the day. It’s for a show that we have on the 23rd here in Hamburg. Me in full flight.
I look at it and think, “Who is that animal?”
Ever useless on the computer and I have to send off a spate of interviews that I did till 4 in the morning and I felt like I was bleeding from the ears. They keep asking the same questions so I have resorted to lying to amuse myself.
My bank will not let me access any funds after I got into a tussle on the Reeperbahn with an unhelpful atm machine. I now think that it spewed all my money out when I walked away. Not getting completely stressed out over this is taking an iron will that I thought I had misplaced many moons ago.
It is doing wonders for my diet though.
Ash is shagging his way through the boredom barrier from what I can ascertain, mike is happy, and Ross is in Spain engaging in all mannor of lewd behavior I am so sure.
Woke up at 7 this morning and here I am. Again.
I go to the kogge to check m emails and what not. I paid Pete in 5 cent coins yesterday he raised an eyebrow at me and intoned ‘You must be kidding?”
Was I smiling?
No I was not.
Then I am not kidding.
Pete is a cack. From Finland, as pale as buttermilk. I look like a Moorish witch seated next to him by comparison. He has a Scottish brogue so it’s like Sean Connery by way of a gnome incrusted depressed herring driven ice flow. So strange but endearing at the same time.
He has been promised the job of official grape peeler and fan waver.
Still cant be as social as my brothers. I am running and paying for it. Huge lumbering beast that I am. I don’t think about why I am doing it I just do it because I have to.
Dry retching by the glass candle display in the churchyard at 10 last night as a choir followed the didget driven ministrations of a thin young man standing on a pulpit behind the rectory window. I stood there painting and gaping like a sweaty pervert. I could not hear them through the double-glazing but my heart hitched none the less.
There is so much going on here and the more vital I find it, the more removed I become. Deviant? More than likely.
I was asked about White trash in an interview this week which was a shock because as I said they tend to all ask nothing but stock questions. He said it ” is honest.”
Interesting
I think its me beating myself up in public.
I don’t really know what the fuck it is.
He asked me if I am Whitetrash.First time I had smiled all day
Gotta chat to Paris this afternoon. Phone throughs. If I told you how much I hate the sound of my own voice at this point you would never believe me.
Blackie writes me from the states and is happy with the selection of vegan fair and chocolate soy ice cream that is wildly available. Playing and tweaking quad boxes. I miss him
Did a new song with ash yesterday. I have one more to do today and then I am dry again. I am not coming up with the goods right now…it’s like a blocked oil filter; it comes in fits and starts.
I am going to wait for the sum to hit our rooftop then I am going to throw myself at its mercies. I can do email shite later. Ment to be shopping for tee shirts to print on before Ross gets back. I told number one son last night that I would love it here if I were here without me.
I’d be having a fuckin ball.
I can’t seem to write fast enough and every thing I do right Ash looks at me like I am something distasteful that he just trod in. He is pissed at me for not bring my lyrics, for not having them in my computer.
You got it; I can’t get it fucking right.
Shoulda woulda coulda didn’t…my fuck up.
I didn’t think that this was going to be such a full on writing jag. I can’t believe that we get the music that we do to tell you the truth because I can’t imagine feeling much worse about myself as I do when we are recording. I fucking hate it and if it had a say I’m sure it would feel the same about me
When he corners me I tent to retard and automatically write the same track over and over.
Just so he doesn’t go through me.
I really have no idea how I am going to bridge this.
And I have another 10 weeks minium.
I really think that my life wants me dead sometimes, well, more than sometimes, I’d say a good 89-90%
The odds are not real spanky are they?
We don’t see eye to eye on anything. If I wasn’t cringing so much it would be funny he’s not talking to me now. Tell me? You want to be in a band huh?
I spent just as much time not talking to him as well.
Look, I’m sure that people have a lot better time of it than I do.(” I seen the making of the black album doco sonny”…. ok…. maybe not).
The more he stays at his girlfriends house the more time it buys me so I have my fingers crossed on that front.
I am topic free at the moment. Let me explain. When I say that, what it means is shit is not jelling in my head, its more feelings that I find hard to articulate.
Knowing me now that I have said that I will write 10 tn a row I can only hope this is the case.
If I ruled the world (working on it….) I would ban September outright. Just cancel the fuckin thing.
Ross just got home from Spain fit and well.
What am i doing?
Hmmmmmm
They were filming a movie in and around us yesterday…. so there I am, in a bikini on our roof listening to the stones quite happy on diet pills and my yammering internal life, peppermint tea and a bottle of water when all the sudden like a fuckin dinosaur, a cherry picker swims into view with 2 smiling dudes and a rack of lights in it.
I almost crapped myself.
When I had recovered a little decorum, not that I had much to begin with if the previous paragraph is anything to go by, I went and watched the scene that they had been setting up for all day much to the detriment of my hectic tanning schedule.
A dude jumped out of a six-story window.
The sound of a human hitting 10 feet of cardboard boxes is not very pleasing to the ear.
Mike just said something about tee shirt printing tonite; Sir pointy pussy whipped is at a meeting to see if he can get some work here. Good luck says moi.
Deluxe is off somewhere and my significant other is rolling drunk in Sydney town
Hateful fucking day of birth looming like some kind of unavoidable natural disaster. Significant other got a tattoo for me. Lily-white tiger is going to take a picture of it and send it to me. What a cool gift. I still have to get hooked up on the ink front here.
I don’t socialize at home and nor do I on the road. I have been told to get a network happening.Friends.Good lord!?Um…. no?
Eh…. Fuck off perhaps…
Just do my thing and train.Meh.I wont be happy till I am thin again. I will have a party when my hateful thighs no longer touch.
So all in all I guess to quote QOTSA I have to just go with the flow.
Wrote a song called “Warranty” Today. I am holding my own hand and bribing myself into this shit. I keep abandoning this one song about necrophilia but it’s coming back around.
“What a life!” As Miss Amphlett would say.
SF4L
Michele.
The NetherlandsYour perfect ,yes its true
-FNM.
I keep the bible in a pool of blood so that none of its lies can affect me.
-Slayer
It’s a dream house. I can imagine in my worst times that my imagination would up and provide something this beautiful to run too.
Overdrive bookings are a family business with open arms. Years ago when I Had the ranch a beautiful dread locked girl was blown through the red front door and now years later I am typing this in her warm living room waiting to go and play again tonite.
The boys have gone on a cigarette run and I am blissed out with a sore neck. It was so quite here that it almost kept me awake.
The world is a headfuck that’s for sure, the more that I see the more aware of what I want and am to become.
I ended up in a coffee shop before the show with Solange and David. Them spliffed up and drawing me blanketed in a shroud of dope smoke.
Solange is a sikfuk that I had met on my space and then when I walked out of the bar to write there she was. An astounding thing. It was like meeting Erik in Brisvegas.It makes the planet less foreboding.
She showed me her jacket after the show while I was standing barefoot on cobblestones outside the bar.
“It got rained on but still…” She smiled
And there it was,
SF4L.
Been thinking about Ash cocks heaps, I know that somewhere somehow he is seeing all of this and I cant believe that 3 years have gone so fast.
I talk to him in my head.
[Mate I am in Germany I think, I speak to your wife whom I love all the time. So angry that you didn’t stick around but you know that I understand]
There was no fold back at all so I pulled into my head and cut it loose. Every time I moved I nearly collided with a headstock. The mike lead was so short that I felt like a dog on a short leash. A cute Slayer fan told me that she loved “Seasoned in destruction” all the while grinning wildly. There were a couple of jocks calling me a faggot, which I guess, means that I look like a pretty boy at least.
Even after I fronted on them they backed down and I ended up just laughing in their faces. Never doubt that ignorance is universal kids.
Every show we paly I know that I have a really long way to go. I don’t think that’s a bad thing but it makes me aware that I do have my work cut out for me.
I am doing a phone through interview in the car going to the show tonite shake my head with amazement at this dream life that is coming true. I dreamt that was hanging out at a Buddhist shrine with D.Boon from the minutemen last nite and I choose to take that as a good omen.
Woke up under low wooden gables and open the red curtains to vegetation like you would not believe stay in bed for hours almost paralysed with a peace that has only ever come to me a few times. So relaxed that my eyes began to water. Astounding.
Thank you Holland.
SF4L
Michele.
