The
museum of Dan's natural history
Check out my resume
I don't drive. I was always a little
intimidated by the notion of being in control (or more precisely, not being
in control) of a large, heavy, and above all fast piece of machinary. When
I would walk down the street my thoughts tended to drift to questions like
'What would happen if I just changed direction and walked into that tree,,.....,..'
(a second ticks by) 'Oh that's right. I'd hurt myself'. When you're driving
you simply don't have that second to come to your senses. Plus it's going
to hurt a lot more at that speed. I may drive one day. Perhaps when I can
afford to pay for a car, and maintanence on a car, and fuel for a car,
and replacement of a car when I enevitably write it off, and someone else's
prize Bentley which will assuradly be the object upon which I write my
car off. Until then I'll just ride my scooter about. At least then I won't
do too much damage to the Bentley when I ride under it's front wheel.
OLD STUFF
(in reverse chronological order)
March 98
I have found
my calling. I am now an amateur TheatreSports performer. If you've ever
watched the show "Who's line is it anyway?" then you'll know what I'm on
about. Groups of four are called upon, in front of an audience, to make
up plays and sketches on the spot. Sounds hard? Nah, It's a piece of piss.
This way I don't have to remember lines. Often we'll be given a restriction
in the form of a game. One enjoyable game is poem. Each person says a line
of a poem. Actually the first two people make up a line which flows rhythm-wise
and the second two people rhyme (often badly) with them. The only problem
I have is that often the audience will be asked to provide a location for
the scene to begin and the two that come up most often are (1) the top
of a mountain and (for some inexplicable reason) someone almost always
manages to fall into a crevasse and (2) the Seven-Eleven where there are
two things that can happen. You can stage a robbery or you can have the
slurpee machine go nuts. If you have the chance to choose a location for
me while I'm performing DO NOT CHOOSE THE SEVEN-ELEVEN!!!!! or I will kill
you.
31 August 97
You want to know more stuff
about me? OK. I love the King. (uh huh) No I'm not talking about the Elvis
Priesly who crooned love songs on those daytime movies. No I'm not talking
about the Elvis Priesly whose gyrating hips caused hundreds of women to
swoon at a time. I talking about the big, fat, bacon and peanut butter
eating, uh huh nnnhuinDawg, Shooting TV's, meeting the Beatles, Buying
big arse swimming pools, jump-suit wearing, lyric forgetting, CIA operating,
Seven-Eleven convening, kidnapped by aliens, King of Rock and Roll. Elvis,
it seems, has actually slipped out of popular culture and into modern mythology.
He now sits alongside the other great myths. The Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot
(of course he should be called big feet) and last but not least Michael
Jackson who has baffled experts for years. Just like Bigfoot there is film
footage but there is debate over whether it's just a guy in a suit. I am
also a big fan of the Loch Ness Monster but unlike Elvis I actually enjoy
some of Nessie's earlier songs.
July 97
Strong, muscular, fearless,
charismatic. These are all words used to describe a guy I once saw. But
what about myself? Inventive? Yes. Witty? It depends on who you talk to.
Recollective? (Hang on, I had this written down somewhere) um Yes. Decisive?
Sometimes. I live in Australia and plan to until I die or move. If I die
I won't move but sadly it doesn't work the other way around. Actually I
am fearless but don't spread it around because someone might come around
to test me.
I am good at being out of work.
I'm an out of work web graphics designer. An out of work fine artist. Even
an out of work actor. (Is there any other kind? Well yes, A rich actor.)
Not that I can act but then, neither can Pauly Shore or Daymon Wayans.
I have tried my hand at poetry. (I'm a poet and I didn't ... realize).
Basically I'm just real clever at stuff nobody wants. At the moment I'm
at work on a TOP SECRET project. Lets just say it involves computers and
... games. Hush! I've said too much. To see a bit more check out my GALLERY.
I'm not racist or sexist but I do acknowledge that women are of coarse
worse drivers than men. Yes I know that the statistics say that women have
less accidents than men but do you know why men have so many accidents?
Because women keep CUTTING THEM OFF. Just cruising along applying makeup
up and "Whoops, Missed that red light ho ho silly me." It's probably frugal
of me to link to my E-Mail
address at this point. Just in case one of those politically correct nutbags
come along. Go on! I know you love writing letters.
i.e.
Dear person, ( not Sir/Madam because
that contains the word 'adam'.)
I was disgusted when your foul
web page came up on my womoniter. I shall never look at your http address/adtrousers
again but I add it to the lists of other subversive texts on the internet.
nag nag nag waffle waffle.
What a load of tripe. Anyway
for now I'll leave you with a joke I heard just recently.
Neutron walks into a bar. He sits
and says "I'll have a beer thanks". The barkeep pours his beer and serves
him. Neutron says "Thanks, How much will that cost?" The Barkeep replies
"For you mate? No charge"