More from me earlier

Alright...so I just got home from a rad roadtrip and I will add an update later re: it but first off...I have to discuss with yall some things that I have noticed lately.

Some of you may or may not know this but I love cowboy shirts. You know...the kind that have the embroidered bits on the breasts...that Roy Rogers used to wear. Anyway...I love them. I have been looking for a brand new second hand C&W shirt for a while now and they are pretty hard to come by here in NZ. However, while in Auckland, I found a store that had a bunch; not a bunch in Kensington Market standards but more than I had seen anywhere else in NZ. But (the catch) they were all expensive as - the cheapest being about $45NZD (again...not even close to the $15CND standard set by Kensington Market.) Anyway, I was browsing through the rack of shirts and came upon "THE BEST SHIRT EVER." It didn't say that or anything. That is what I named it. It was red with white shoulders and over each breast was a royal flush (Ace, King, Queen, Jack, 10.) On the upper back was a Riverboat/Gambling scene but in the foreground there was a sign that said "No Gambling." It was exquisite (and I don't think I have ever used that adjective before.) But...alas...I couldn't part with $120NZD for it. That's my story. I just wanted to share.

Everyday I walk home I walk down a walkway next to some train tracks and everyday it seems there is more and more terrible graffiti. I strongly feel that uncreative and untalented graffiti artists are the bane of the world right now. I really wouldn't mind if the tags were creative and appealing to the eye. But they're not. Like one...in pink paint (what kind of tough tagger paints only in pink?!?) says "We take drugs" and has a picture of a pig next to it. Now...I get the police reference but...wtf? Crap...utter crap.

I went to the airport the other day to meet my girlfriend upon her arrival home from Napier. I went straight from a party and all I had with me was a daypack filled with a half empty 12 pack of Carling beer. (Is a daypack still a daypack at night time?) As I was wandering through the airport I got thinking...how great would it be to just show up at an airport with only a box of beer as a carry-on then just fly somewhere. Radical.

Hives. Never had em but boy do I like them. I have been stealing a lot of music lately and one of the newest thefts was the Hives discography. I really really really like these guys - tight, fun punk music the way your parents used to listen to. Check this band out if you haven't already.

Finally, a few weeks ago I went to see the John Butler Trio here in ChCh. John Butler is originally from California but hails from Austrailia now where he started as a busker many years back. He's kinda like Ben Harper and John Mayer rolled into a dread-locked, slide-guitar- playing, white boy. I'm not really sold on all his material but it had been a while since I had been to a concert. Anyway, the show was pretty good - the band was musically excellent and the crowd was really into it. What ruined it for me was the high number of dudes at the show. I don't know where these guys get off thinking they belong anywhere where I'm at. (A dude here is defined a basically your run-of-the-mill yuppie; leather jacket, trendy jeans, shiny leather shoes, usually discussing stocks and/or bonds.) Anyway...I just get uncomfortable when I'm surrounded by these people. There was one guy (an aformentioned dude,) who at a break in the concert, expelled some sort of sound that could only be described as a meow. It was really weird - especially because it was no louder than a whisper. I think that only my mate and I heard it. We both chalked this up to him being high on something. This was further proven by his and his girlfriend's terrible dancing. Dudes and their significant crow-eyed others need to stay home in their trendy townhouse, listening to U2 and discussing their new BMW or said stocks and/or bonds.

It feels good to get these things off my chest