snakes on a farm

More snakes at work; several weeks ago (around the time I last encountered a snake here at work) an email went out saying the carpet python that lives in the toilets of one of the labs had given birth; a dozen eggs to be exact. Apparently she decided that she'd keep the eggs, and herself, in the bathroom as it's safe and dry, so there's been a few people brining in their own bed-pans to keep under their desk so they don't have to visit the snake every time their bladder gets the better of them.

Not sure when exactly, but the eggs were collected up by one of our many rangers and the carpet python was asked to 'move on'. Nine of the eggs went out to one of the wildlife parks out of town, the other three were kept, they hatched, and now we have three more carpet pythons on the farm. We were asked to come and document their release to various corners of the farm, and Co-worker #1 decided he'd assist by being Mr Big and gently taking the snakes from their box and placing them under a bush, all the while assuring us that carpet pythons are not venomous and the young ones rarely bite ... Co-worker #1 currently has eight (8) small puncture holes in his forearm, though maintains they really are docile animals.

The ugly can go to hell

The ugly can go to hell says Jack Marx ... who's not exactly the prettiest flower of the bunch himself. But he has a point.

the straight gay guy

There's a guy at the gym who annoys me, but not much, mainly because he's not THAT much bigger than me, and is in denial about his homosexuality, so more than anything he makes me laugh.

I've seen this guy around a fair bit; at the shops, in town, at the gym (obviously), this is easy in a small city, and he stands out (to me) as he's relatively good looking, but this is waining. The first time I saw him I immediately thought 'gay' and 'you beauty, he's my type'. This was ground-breaking for two reasons;

1) My gaydar broke two life-times ago (it didn't 'break' as such, more it was beaten out of me; who'd have thought being a gay priest in Chicago in the 1800s would be frowned upon? These days it's the norm I hear).

2) There is an incredible lack of guys around here worthy of my attention.

Now, I've seen this guy at 'The Local Gay Bar' a number of times, and on several occasions he's been doing the dirty on a pole on the dance floor - albeit by himself, but ALWAYS looking around to see who's watching. Gay. Anyway, I know he's seen me watching, but the more I watched, the less I liked. Talk, dark, handsome, muscled (but not too much), but something was missing, so he never got me. Skip forward a few weeks, and there he is, at the gym, and there I am, watching him again, trying to figure out whats lacking, when suddenly his girlfriend walks up and starts talking to him. He's recognised me and saw the look on my face when she started talking to him; nothing exactly wrong with talking to a girl at the gym (sometimes I wish I had someone/anyone to talk to) but from that moment on, he never left her side, and whenever I'd look anywhere near his direction, he'd grab her arm and kiss her. Like, all the time. Eight times in a 25 minute period. In the end I'd look over during one of his sets and catch his eye, just to put him off.

Obviously this guy is;

a) Paranoid that someone saw him at a gay bar
b) Paranoid about being stared at by a gay guy (but he loves dancing at a gay bar???)
c) Is in denial about his sexuality

To be honest I don't care. I'd given up on him well before he decided to no longer be gay. At least now I have a new game; Make The Straight Guy Squirm. I'm pretty good at this one.

He'll probably complain next week and I'll be asked to leave.

I bet she won't wear a strap-on even if/when he begs.

The major issue I have with all this is that it proves my gaydar IS actually broken.

fruit is overrated

Eating fruit is overrated. While shopping last night I made the conscious decision to make Monday (today) an overly smart eating day; I'd plan everything and be sure that all that I eat would be of benefit:

Breakfast: Oats
Morning snack: Fruit
Lunch: Pasta
Afternoon snack: Tuna
Dinner: Chicken breast and rice

So far it's 11am, the oats kick-started the metabolism this morning and the fruit has proven to be a complete waste of time. Sure it tastes nice, but does bugger all for hunger. There are a dozen different varieties of chocolate bars and chips sitting on a table on the other side of the office, and everyone of them has my name on it.

Addendum:
I have discipline in training my body, but convincing myself to eat ONLY GOOD FOOD is somewhat harder. I did, however, offset the chocolate bar with a banana when I got home. This means I'm not completely destined to end up in hell. Oh, forgot, yes I am.

Confucius 4.7 and the perfect front kick

Continuing on with Confucius 4.7;

"Your faults define you. From your very faults one can know your quality"

My linkage to old mate Jeff Dahmer probably wasn't the best, but it smacked of "did Jeff have ANY qualities?" Apparently his brother doesn't think so, he changed his name, but his 'mom and pop' still maintain the Dahmer moniker, as well they should, and say they "still love their son despite his crimes" so this tells me he obviously had SOME qualities. I'm not a philosopher, I really shouldn't be allowing these thoughts to migrate from my head to the keyboard (damn you fingers!) but I figure throwing it out there may get someone else thinking about it, someone smarter than me, and I'd be keen to see their thoughts. Nature vs Nurture, etc, etc, and only a mother could love him all ring true, but there are cases where parents and family have completely disowned someone for lesser crimes than Mr Dahmer, but his stand by him.

So from his faults, can we know Jeffrey's qualities, or is that something that only he can know himself? In his mind, Dahmer may have considered his murders as ultimate acts of fulfillment, and thus, they were his qualities; its just that no one else saw them that way. The way we interpret our qualities is just as personal as our qualities themselves I guess.

The ORIGINAL reason this verse came to stand out was in relation to my training. In the martial arts, you can teach someone (anyone) how to perform a front kick; you can demonstrate it for them, break it down and explain the mechanics, the theory, the reasoning, the application and the variations, but you cannot make them perform the perfect kick; their faults won't allow it.

The art is perfect, humans are not.

As long as we keep this concept in our head when training and instructing, you're sure to get good results from all students. I cannot perform the perfect kick, but I visualise it in my head and continually strive to better my technique. My students do likewise by watching me and imitating what I do (hence why I have to be continually improving myself). The front kick I can perform isn't bad, my right leg is far more powerful than the left, but my left offers greater reach and height; these are my faults, but also my strengths. If I'm breaking wood, I use my right. If I'm demonstrating how to kick for length and height, I use my left. I am able to demonstrate both variations of the same kick, effectively, because I KNOW MY FAULTS and have learned to put them to an advantage. The faults in this instance are numerous; multiple groin injuries and ankle issues on the right side and muscle tissue problems and a knee operation on the left have resulted in me refining the kicks I perform with each leg slightly differently, but that's my quality. Ideally I would like to be able to perform perfect kicks on both legs, but I cannot, and never will due to the injuries, so I maximise what I DO have.

That is my interpretation of the verse, not a scholarly view, but the view of a martial artist looking to improve physical techniques with brains, not brawn.

______________________________________________________________

So that was Sunday; lots of posts, scroll down and see 'em all; there's bound to be something there that'll spark you up for a Monday morning of abusive commenting.

And for the record, The Besnard Lakes sound NOTHING LIKE THE ARCADE FIRE as I had been lead to believe.

The US '0' - Poor Countries '1'

I'm not an environmentalist, even by a long shot, but I laughed out loud tonight when the news came through that the US representatives in Bali had been howled down by members of the poorer nations of the world. They're all together for a general free-for-all bitch session on how they're going to save us from Mother Nature trying to evict us from planet Earth, and the US' Ms Paula Dorbriansky and her cronies remained defiant to the end until my new favourite person, Papua New Guinea's Kevin Conrad broke his silence ...

"When the delegate from Papua New Guinea, Kevin Conrad, asked to speak, opposition to the U.S. had reached a crescendo. "We seek your leadership," he said referring to the U.S. "But if for some reason you are not willing to lead, leave it to the rest of us. Please, get out of the way."

South Africa, Mali, Brazil, Jamaica, Uganda and Tanzania followed with statements supporting India's position or that of developing countries more generally.

None of America's traditional allies came to its defense."

For me, that last line is the clincher; you know you're stuffed when none of the other bullies come to your aid.

smoke that one Mr Andrews

Brand new Prime Minister Kevin Rudd explained today that Australia is moving towards a decidedly nicer place to live for boys like me. And as a result, I have this to say to Federal Member for Menzies, and FORMER Minister for Being a Cock-Head:

Fuck you Kevin Andrews, fuck you.

vindicated

I hate pop culture (truly, I do) but it's great to be vindicated by someone like Robbie Williams on international issues such as facial hair.

tattoo you

The gratuitous use/coverage of tattoos has never appealed to me, but the subtle use of simple images and text on the body as an addition, an accessory or a message, I think, can be, well, down right sexy. I've seen words on forearms a lot lately, but the problem is whose name or what word should you use? When it goes wrong = friends of mine; he got her name on his lower back, and she left him two weeks later.

One of those Star Shots shops in town has a picture of some nob who got a picture taken of him, topless, with his new born daughter. Why is he a nob? Two reasons:

a) He has his daughter's name tattooed on his arm in an Old English-style typeface ... the type that needs good kerning ... his tattoo does not have good kerning ... it looks tacky.

b) He named his daughter Willow.

This man is a tool.

I expect that sometime in the future I'll expand on the existing tattoo I have, but how, I'm not sure. I like the idea of words/text on the inside of my bicep (ala London Preppy) but it'll have to be meaningful, and not just some random 'nice' symbol or shape. Much to consider. And tribal armbands are almost as bad as poorly kerned words.

cricket for boys

Cricket has never really been a sexy sport, and I doubt it's got much of a gay following, but I reckon if Simon Jones can stay fit, and continue to bowl as well as he did in 2005, cricket will continue to be a spectator sport. Brett Lee continue to make it interesting, and the current crop of young Aussies make watching the warm-up sessions just as much fun as the real thing.

hating children

I simply hate hate HATE children on TV. They have no place in ads to be telling me how good the cars their dad sells are, or how much money I could save if I come in and talk to their mum about a home loan. Pure hatred.

Small fluffy animals on TV aren't much better either.

I'm sure the day will come when, as a crusty old man, I'll be sitting in front of the TV, eating a high-protein soylent-green-style processed meal (delivered in a small silver package, like all food will be in 28 years) while watching a muscle-meat-head presenter tell me about the latest events in the Buddhist monk uprising in Croatia (wait for that one, it'll come people, it'll come) when they cut to a commercial break to see three children kitted out in period-dress reminding me of the 'good-ol-days' of the 20th century when people were able to breath the air sans the now standard Inogen Breathing Assister ... and this commercial is brought to us by Trilung, Inogen's newest rival in the assisted-breating industry. Who else? I'm impressed by their product; it is sleek and sexy, as they say, but their sales pitch is fatally flawed as they've gone the emotional route with the children presenting the facts. I'll stick with Inogen thanks.

Confucius 4.7 - Jeffrey Dahmer

Confucius 4.7
"Your faults define you. From your very faults one can know your quality"

Not sure on this one.

from the Hagakure

"Having only wisdom and talent is the lowest tier of usefulness"

Just because you've got sublime features, silky smooth skin, carefree hair, stunning looks, a quick wit and an infectious personality, unless you ditch her and venture to the Pink Side, you're a waste. Totally useless (to me). You know who you are.

Cruel Guards. Cruel world.

The Panics, yesterday, were announced as winners of the 2007 J Award for their album Cruel Guards; the (IMO) biggest and most important Australian music award, as given out by Triple J, and I'll admit to reacting with a few punches in the air and a general lapse of sang-froid. I'm allowed to from time to time. There has been some excellent Australian music in the last three or four years, but for me, The Panics sum up that excellence, and fingers crossed their up-coming world tour will gain them the wider success they deserve. Something that was discussed yesterday during the award was that Cruel Guards is a complete album, and The Panics noted that that was what they'd set out to make, which is refreshing. There are plenty of great songs around at any one time, but how often are great songs backed up by complete albums. Rarely. The Panics said they're not a band who churn out #1 singles, but decided long ago their focus was on the album as a whole, not the album being a collection of stand-alone singles. This is proof for me the art of developing an album has not been lost in the digital download age, where the industry (that, let's be honest, promotes singles over albums) feared that as users are able to select individual songs for download, the overall power of a well structured album would be lost, which I also feel is the catalyst behind the J Award; to encourage and promote the album above the singles. Personally, if Band A put out a great single, I'll go and buy/download the entire album. Sometimes I'm bitterly disappointed, though more and more the hit songs ARE being backed up by good albums, and Cruel Guards is a perfect example of this. Grab Don't Fight It as a taster, then get the full thing. Also, I love selling them to anyone who listens, Triple J should be congratulated, again, for devising this award and tomorrow (Sunday) they'll be playing Cruel Guards in full. How many radio stations do that? Go see them on tour if you can.

As for a cruel world, I'm just back from the gym, where I was again distracted continuously by that same London Preppy look-a-like, and again, the eye-contact continued to do nothing for my composure ... which was completely shot when a gorgeous girl in purple walked out of the pretend-to-learn-self-defence-by-punching-and-kicking-the-air class, over to My Future Boyfriend who promptly grabbed his bag and walked out with her.

Now, not all is lost, as he didn't seem overly pleased to be leaving when they were, and I can only put that down to the fact she had just cramped his style. Why? He is actually gay and they are in fact:
1) Brother and sister?
2) Just good friends?
3) House mates?

Or we can just accept that I am delusional and should really get over myself before I do something dumb. Again. Though that would make for good reading.

Gym bunnies

Another bonus of heading south for a couple of weeks in January is that I'll have plenty of free time to hang out at the gym. Unlike here, I'll have access to a gay (friendly) gym, which will be much more interesting (profitable?) than going to a gym and beating myself up about ogling all the straight boys.

Big Day Out 2008

Tickets have been bought, flights booked and sunscreen at the ready - the 2008 big Day Out is going to be a cracker.

* Rage Against the Machine
* Silverchair
* Hilltop Hoods
* Spoon
* Regurgitator
* Midnight Juggernauts
* Karnivool
* Björk
* Arcade Fire
* Carl Cox
* Augie March
* Dizzee Rascal
* Anti-Flag
* Gyroscope

That's not the complete listing, but you get the idea. It's only one day, so it's not on the level with the big European festivals, but it's the biggest thing we've got, plus it'll be packed with drunk guys in wife-beaters (blue singlets ... see photo) draped in the Australian flag. To be honest, I can't think of anything more scary than those ultra-patriotic guys and their 'beloved' flag. I have as much admiration and passion for the flag as all of these guys combined, but you won't see me stalking non-caucasian patrons demanding they 'kiss the flag or get the fuck out of the country'. At the last Big Day Out, organisers asked that people not bring or wear the Australian flag - I could see their reasoning; they're obviously as scared of these people as I am, but as expected, that simply threw more fuel on the fire. I don't expect it'll be any different this year, but I can tell you know, I won't be kissing no flag that's been draped over some fat chick's ass. As for the boys, well they serve as excellent eye-candy while they sweat it out in the mosh-pit and, although they find reason to fight over almost anything, they inevitably sort it all out and make-up with a hug and proclamations of 'I love you man, you mean more to me than she ever will ...' Gives me a hard-on every time.

And back to the music ... if no one else bar the Arcade Fire were playing, I'd still be there, but with Bjork and RATM it can't be anything but a ... big day out. Although I know I'll loose my voice during the Arcade Fire section, I'm almost looking forward to Spoon even more. Their latest album GaGaGaGaGaGa is easily top three for 2007. I know nothing of their live credentials, but if they can recreate on stage their delicate yet sometimes ferocious sound, my tickets and airfare will have been vindicated.

Soliloquy

so·lil·o·quy
Pronunciation [suh-lil-uh-kwee]
–noun, plural -quies.
1. an utterance or discourse by a person who is talking to himself or herself or is disregardful of or oblivious to any hearers present (often used as a device in drama to disclose a character's innermost thoughts): Hamlet's soliloquy begins with “To be or not to be.”
2. the act of talking while or as if alone.

I started off attempting to prove the above word was incorrect, untrue, made up, etc ... and now it seems like the word was sent from another world specifically for me, for this blog ... hell, even while standing in front of the class demanding better techniques and barking commands 'soliloquy' would be appropriate.

I'm thinking about getting it tattooed across my forehead.

Make someone fat

Go and make a skinny kid fat:
freerice.com

Russian annimation and design

Kol Belov of kollaps.ru is the main reason I'm not a Flash designer. A few years back, just after university, I was sold on the idea of becoming a Flash animator / designer and started spending a great deal of time doing up story boards, learning the concepts behind animation and started developing my own characters ... then I found kollaps.ru and realised I'd be better of somewhere else. I didn't exactly give up, but there was something about watching his animations that made me realise that not only did I not have the ability (which could be developed) but I also really didn't have the passion to be able to create such work, and without that passion, whatever I did develop would be without soul. Kol's work has soul.

I'm not that fussed about not following the Flash path; I'm almost exclusively print based design these days, though I wouldn't rule out returning to my multi media roots later in life ... next week maybe? It's not that I'm fleeting, but if I'm going to do something, I've decided that I can no longer take on projects half-heartedly. I'm always full of (shit) ideas, and I have attempted many of them, without any real success, not only in the design world, but in all aspects of life ... that's not to say I'm a failure (in my mind anyway). Only recently have I started to understand the true meaning of commitment and dedicating yourself totally to one thing, seeing it through, and gaining that sense of achievement / accomplishment, which is why the decisions I need to make in the next 2 months will have a profound affect on not only what I take on next year, but for the next five years, such could be the size of the goals I set for myself. But that's a story for another day. Back to animation, I wouldn't be surprised if I did have another shot at Flash, but I'd have to find a true passion for it, and start stalking Mr Belov to steal his concepts. He'd understand.

A good artist copies. A great artists steals.

What hope has anyone got?

"I meant to spin it one way and the ball went the other way."

If Muralitharan doesn't know which way it's going, what hope do we mere humans have of knowing? And is 1000 Test wickets really possible?

In other Sri Lankan cricket news, while we're on the topic, Jayasuria has announced his retirement. Again.

Dr Nelson I presume

I'm no major fan of the (new) leader of the (new) opposition, Dr Brendan Nelson, but this article discussing his stance on gay rights, etc, is a step in the right direction if he wants my vote in three years' time.

I was secretly hoping Malcolm Turnbull would be chosen as the (new) Liberals leader, but it looks like Dr Nelson could be a handy fall-back. Newly crowned Prime Minister Kevin Rudd has a similar stance on gay rights, but hasn't yet shown his hand as to the path he'll take while in office; granted, he's only officially been Prime Minister since 9am this morning. I expect nothing dramatic to be honest, but as Dr Nelson says, we need to address

"the social and economic injustices affecting homosexuals"

Sounds good to me, now lets see it happen ladies.

Actually, for a couple of old boys, they'd make a cute couple ...

Gym bunnies

I haven't been to a gym almost all year due to my training schedule, though recently bought a 20 pass card from the gym next door ... literally it is ... next door ... I'm looking at it right now from my bedroom window ... anyway, it was bought to force me to get back into gym sessions. That was 2 months ago and I went this morning, the 3rd time since buying it. I'm not too worried; I've started incorporating a lot of body weight drills into my training so I'm getting a good deal of strength training, just no weights. I guess I was inspired by the firemen from last night's show, so I took myself along for a Sunday morning session, knowing full well that I'd be predominantly surrounded by middle aged obese women and crusty old men. And I was. Bar one. After 30 mins into my workout, this guy turns up and holy hell did I find it hard to concentrate for the rest of the session. I was originally planning on only being there for 45 mins, but it ended up being a 2 hour marathon (which isn't exactly bad as I had a lot to do, and look at). Face-wise this boy was hot; creamy white, silky smooth skin and that carefree hair style that shits me so much (because I can't figure out how it works) and as for a physique, I'd put him on par with London Preppy ... even now, hours later, I'm shaking my head in disbelief just knowing this guy is alive, and possibly living somewhere near here. We locked eyes a few times too, which didn't help my heart rate. Daydreaming while doing free weights isn't a smart thing to do.

Why react so? If you knew the city I live in, and the guys that live here, this specimen of a man is rare. My thoughts are that he's a gymnast, or has been in the past; he has that air of physical perfection about him. The best part about this is that I'll (obviously) be going back to the gym, same time, next weekend, and he won't be there, but I'll keep looking at the door, expecting, wanting, hoping, but ultimately disappointed. Fact is, even if he did show up again (as he probably will, as it's most likely his regular weekend session) nothing will ever happen because my beard (if you can call it that) is clearly not giving off the gay vibe as I had (subconsciously) hoped and even if it was, the chances of him being gay are so slim I can honestly tell you I haven't even considered it. Regardless of him being gay, straight, curious or actually one of Santa's Elves doing last minute physical conditioning in preparation for the big event in a few weeks, I'm not going to approach him, slip him a note/number or anything of the sort. Why would I? That would be being proactive, and that (on the matter of love/sex) is against my nature.

Had I been proactive I may have been able to share with you a pic or his name or something interesting about him, but instead I'll add a photo of my tattoo which, I'm sure, is all he was looking at anyway.

What can you get for $15?

Standing in the lineup on the stairs waiting to get into The Only Gay Club In The Village last night I over heard three women got nuts about the $15 cover-charge. For this back water town, that's steep, I agree, and only three weeks ago it was only $10, but this is The Only Gay Club In The Village so you've gotta pay for it, I guess. Plus, it's the only place in town that has a show. Usually the show is a great laugh, full of fat drag queens, tiny twinks and that weird looking chick who gives me the creeps. I was going to be paying my $15 regardless, but the fact the club sponsored a couple of local fire fighters for the latest Fireman's Calendar, and those boys were making their stage debut during this night's show sold it for me. Only $15? Take my money.

Strategically positioning myself directly below the main pole, I had prime viewing once the show began. First off the usual performers doing their trademark stuff; lip-syncing to crap Top 40 music and barely clothed boys writhing about the floor pretending to make out together (I'm sure their girlfriends are either proud of them or are doing likewise with each other in a dark corner somewhere). That's worth 50c of my $15.

Then the firemen arrive to save the day. I recognise The Hot One right away, seeing as he's been on all the promotional material (more on him later). Three of them, fully kitted out in their usual life saving attire. Now, I'm no connoisseur of strip shows, but I thought the idea was to work the crowd and build the anticipation, not walk straight out and drop your pants? Never mind, I was directly under it so happy days. One guy was older, with a well calved body though married, the second guy is obviously less enthusiastic about his appearance and the crowd responded accordingly, then comes The Hot One, mid 20s, rock hard abs, huge arms and great chest but ... he's short. Doesn't matter, I'm sitting down, so it looks good from here. So, with the boys on stage in only their newly printed Fireman's Calendar 2007 underwear I'm thinking my $15 is almost well spent, then I notice it, as does everyone else; The Hot One has a small, but VERY noticeable wet spot on his underwear, right there, right on the end of his bulge; pre cum! HA! He's standing there in all his glory, arms raised, grinning from ear to ear, strutting around for everyone to enjoy, and the only thing anyone has their eyes on is his wet spot that's slowly getting bigger.

I feel ashamed I only paid $15.

Anyway, the best part of all of this is the background story of this guy. I admit I don't know him personally, but he bugs me. There is a copy of the said calendar in our house (not mine) and I was slowly and meticulously browsing it the other day when I realised that The Hot One not only appears on the centrefold, but he's also the person attributed with organising, promoting and distributing the thing. How does that work? Good on him for raising money for whatever charity they're supporting (obviously I paid attention to that part didn't I), but the critic in me tells me this dude is just found the easiest way to get pictures of himself, half naked, on everyone's coffee table, office wall and on stage at the local gay club, all in the name of a good cause. Half his luck I guess. Anyway, like I said, he's short, and I'm Height Arrogant. But insanely jealous.

Edit: Look what I just found!

everyman should grow a beard

My dad had a beard, lots of guys do at some stage in their life. I've been trying to grow one for a few weeks now, without too much luck. After copping plenty of crap from friends about it, yesterday I got my first compliment; personally I'm not convinced. I'll never cut it as a Falcon porn star (and have no interest to) but there is something gay about a well manicured beard, and maybe this is a desperate attempt to plaster GAY across my forehead. It's first trial, last night at The Only Gay Club In Town was a complete failure, and I cannot guarantee it's safety after I wake up tomorrow morning. In it's defence, if it was a subconscious attempt at me making myself gayer, it was probably the safest option; running around with fairy wings, drinking alco-pops and poppers, getting hi-lights or sucking some guys dick in public are other options, but can't be erased with a razor blade. Actually, they can.

JockoHomo has been discussing similar. Beards that is, not me.

(I like to pretend) I'm a critic

Lists are a necessary evil. I hate compiling them, as it means I have to put a value on something, which means analysing, critiquing and passing judgment, but then it's always fun looking back in 12 months time and think 'what was I thinking?'.

But here's one anyway.

Top 10 Albums of 2006

9. WWI ::: White Whale
A sea-shandy sing-a-long group, sort of, not quite in the same vein as The Coral, a bit more meaty.

8. Show Your Bones ::: Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Karen O is a champ. She's got more testosterone than I'll ever have, and although panned by a lot of critics, I say this album lived up to the hype of their singles.

7. The Life Pursuit ::: Belle & Sebastian
The first B&S album I ever bought, and have since started filling in the blanks with their previous work. Fun stuff, crazy whacked-out lyrics.

6. Gravity Won't Get You High ::: The Grates (Aussie band)
Great fun Australian band, can't wait to see them live.

5. Ships ::: Danielson
If anyone else is willing to admit to listening to this diatribe, please contact me, there simply has to be some sort of support group out there for people like us!

4b. Return to Cookie Mountain ::: TV on the Radio
Everyone talks about the 'space' TVOTR create with their music. I'm no critic, so I'll just say it sounds 'nice'.

4a. At War with the Mystics ::: The Flaming Lips
If you could make everybody poor just so you could be rich
Would you do it? (Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya)

3. Boys and Girls in America ::: The Hold Steady
Not on the same pegging as Separation Sunday, but I'll keep these guys in my top 3 to fulfill my 'I like bands you've never heard of quota'. Still a cracker album.

2. Like Drawing Blood ::: Gotye (Aussie bloke)
Belgium born Wouter "Wally" DeBacker is a classy bloke who can stand on stage, alone, and make bigger sounds than The Arcade Fire. Kudos to him.

1. The Crane Wife ::: The Decemberists
Every song on this album could easily be transformed into a short, 5 minute movie, with a meaty plot, intriguing characters and twists and turns a plenty. With a little effort, and a decent budget, most of these songs could become epic, full length motion pictures.

No more lists for me.