
A survival horror game. (Flash required.)
Ultra slow ultra runner; Election loser; Eating contest winner; Doting father; Sometime: Podcaster; Filmmaker; Biz starter.

A survival horror game. (Flash required.)

As we’ve already established thanks to our mates at the NZ Herald, journalism in this country is populated – certainly at the bottom end – by the barely literate. It’s possible that it was an honest typo, but my heart-wrenching fear is that the staffer had to resort to spelling Monet phonetically.
The third option is that our beloved copywriter has delivered a particularly on-the-nose jab at the big-money nature of The Art Industry. I’ll leave it to you, gentle reader, to decide how much credence I give this possibility.

Why she was inside I don’t know, she seemed to be enjoying flying highspeed orbits around the light in the living room, but as fun as it might have been for a little while, I can’t imagine it would stay amusing.

Yeah, ok, I’ll be back in a couple of hours to see your precious post-roll advertisement. I mean, I’m sure it was going to be a highlight of my afternoon, right?

But what kind of flower is it?

I usually expect museums to be full of dead things and dry things and dead dry things, so to stumble on a pair of happy little lizards basking in their carefully groomed bush, was a happy little discovery.

He might look like a stencil, but he’s actually a pasteup – which he makes up for by being really huge, maybe 150cm high. Lives at the corner of Park & Carlton Gore Rds, on a boarded over window of an old closed down service station.

I met a lovely girl in a bar last night.
She was a fun old day on the mountain — it’s not really a mountain, but then it’s not called “forestry land trail biking”, now is it? — so of course I had to add to my tally of (minor) bike related injuries. It’s all making me feel like a 12 year old. I mean, who has gravel rash on their knees at this age?
AWESOME PEOPLE!
That’s who.

I know this looks silly, but we have such a good goddamn time when we go mountain biking (out at Woodhill), that I tolerate the ridiculousness of strapping bikes to my tiny car. (Shot taken when we took a quick stop for frozen yoghurt. SO GOOD.)