LapTopping – 36 – “Hope Marbles”
This issue of LapTopping is humbly dedicated to those suffering from the
LapTopping Issue 36
Tuesday January 4th 2005
** You can vote for ‘I’m So Post Modern’ in Triple J’s Hottest 100**
**Deadline January 21st! Read! Vote! Love!**
Estimated Reading Time: 7:24 (We appreciate that your eyes are itchy)
Happy Birthday Malcolm Young (AC/DC) 52 Thursday!
Happy Brithday Rachel Friend (something) 35 Saturday!
ON THIS DAY IN GRADE SEVEN (A reading from my Grade seven diary)
Publisher’s Note: We regret to inform that Justin’s 1993 diary entries are
currently offline as he didn’t write anything in his diary until school
started. We apologise for any convenience.
BELATED CHRISTMAS BLESSING’S FROM BEV:
‘Hello sweeties! Well it’s all over now. I cooked for 14 people and hated every
minute of it! Oh I don’t mean that, but I’m glad it’s over. From the look of
the photos my bleary, sun bleached face had enough festivity to power a small
school. Take care everyone and please stay positive, or I’ll smack!’
NEW YEAR’S GREETINGS FROM KERRY THE METAPHYSICAL DRUMMER
away on my Uncle Ken’s farm trying to write a full-length theatre script – a
comedy about the Australian music industry for my uni major writing project. I
remember sitting on the couch listening to radio reports feeling as down to
earth as a team of ‘Macguyver like’ miniature monkeys that had built a space
rocket out of a toilet roll and a coat hanger, miraculously achieving lift-off
only to be collected by a kid falling off his trampoline.
My fizzed up brain pavilion, having been solely dedicated to creating realistic
characters and weighty plot twists, felt the smack of concrete. How
insignigicant my characters were. How irrelevant my deadline was. How little
was me. And alive. And worried about diddly pooksbury. Me and my minature
monkey team could always build another miraculous toilet roll rocket, but this
kid had really, really, hurt himself.
I feel ths same now.
And somewhere, in my head, this play is taking place
Humourless hippy me: ‘who gives a sh*t about voting for your song in the
hottest 100 when 5 million people are displaced and homeless, not to mention
Earnest arty me: Hey, I gave $10 to the red cross and I’ve been sitting all
numb-like infront of the T.V. I care. I love. I hurt. You’re just an
amalgamation of all my silly fears about what people think about me.
Humourless hippy me: Yeah maybe. Then why have you made me a girl? You
masoganist self centred…
Earest arty me: I don’t know. That is so not the point right now. I’m just
saying, that I’m trying my very best to be myself, recognise this tragedy, and
continue the brazen self-promotion of my own career that I’ve done for about 1
½ years now and not alienate anyone, especially not myself.
Annoying Sarcastic me: Yeah, well good luck with THAT.
Humourless hippy me/chilled out arty me: p*ss off!
Whimsical optimistic me: Look, before this gets out of hand…I just wanted to
say that I think now is as important-a time as ever to be high spirited and not
lose your hope marbles! Every single person on this earth is just as valid and
important as the next.
Passionate arty me: Well said.
Whimsical optimistic me: You are all infinitely beautiful. We are all doing our
Assorted me’s: awwww.
Bewildered pessimistic me: You are such an idiot.
Passionate arty me: you love it knobwand
LAPTOPPING IN-ANIMATE OBJECT BEREAVEMENTS NOTICES
Tori Hodgman, Hobart.
It is with much sadness that I report the tragic, and premature death, of my
favourite pair of chocolate brown thongs (flip flops for those of you with
dirty minds who smirk at the word “thongs” or jandals for those of you from NZ
or fans of Greg Fleet).
It was a brilliant sunny Spring Hobart morning when I went to the dog beach
opposite my house with two mugs of green tea for a friend who had visited with
his incredibly large, and clumsy as it turns out, Weimorana “Fritz”. Little
did I know I wouldn’t leave the park with my trusty double plug summer
reliables. Could I have stopped the tragedy that ensued? I doubt it. Not a
drop of green tea was spilled when Fritz bowled me over but said footwear ended
up rammed up my clacker (where the other thong usually resides) and after some
extraction and screaming the said footpiece was declared dead at the scene.
Beyond repair. D-E-D Ded!
** **** *** ***** ********** *************
WE PRAY FOR THEIR RECALIBRATION
** **** *** ***** ********** *************
Do you have an inanimate object that is ailing or has passed on? Let the
LapTopping community ease your suffering by emailing Bev: email@example.com
(said quickly – high affectation on last ‘happy’)
In this age of treason we get by with a little yelp from our friends.
From the cosmic whale-riding Caitlin Darroch, of Melbourne.
1. Getting the target word in The Age puzzle section
2. Watching Black Books repeats.
3. When theres smoked salmon in the fridge
4. A clean fish tank for my siamese fighting fish, miriam. If the finned one is
happy, i am happy.
5. Eating nutella on its own, (tastes just like the inside of a ferrero rocher).
LapTopping accepts little responsibility for any nonplussment, disappointment,
alienation or apathy experienced during a HAP-HAP-HAP-HAP-HAP-HAP-HAPPY!(TM)
endorsed activity. Submit your 5-point plan to the chortle portal.
(email Bev at firstname.lastname@example.org with 5 things that make you happy, or just a
top 5 of any kind! And where you live. They will be published in an order
determined by Bev’s powerball numbers.)
A GIGGLE OF GIGS
* Hobart Comedy Festival. 5-22nd January. The Venue, Salamanca Place
Hobart. 8:30pm each night, not Sundays I think. $20ish (some nights are me, some nights it’s renegades of folk) Saturday14th is the big finale at the Casino. Saturday 22nd is my own solo show ‘In Bed With My Doona’ at 10:15pm. $20 as well. (There’ll be a package deal)
* Renegades of Folk. Monday 24th January. The Local, St Kilda. $5.
* The Jangle Gym (ASA’s songwriter’s showcase) Australia Day. Bar Open,
Brunswick st. Fitzroy. 8pm onwards. I’m MCing, Gorgeous headlining and Scod
from Tripod playing! $5
HOW YOU CAN VOTE FOR ‘I’m So Post Modern’ In Triple J’s Hottest 100.
or SMS 191 555
Step 1 – Have a think about things
Step 2 – Take a deep breath.
Step 3 – Breathe out slowly through your bum.
Step 4 – Repent.
Option A – Vote Online in a fairly complicated manner.
Option B – Vote via SMS in an easy but slightly pricey manner.
Option C – Allow Justin to vote online for you in a slightly illegal and
Option D – Blow the whole thing and go down to the shops.
Option A –
Step 1 – Go to this website:
You have to register this year to vote. If you have already registered and can
remember your ABC login name and stuff, then great. If not, you can be reminded
by the powers that be.
Step 2 – You can vote for up to 10 different songs. But that’s it. You can’t
vote for my song more than once. You can probably ONLY vote for my song and no
other ones, but I’m sure some others would like to win too, give them a go.
Step 1 – Same rules apply. But you write the SONG TITLE ONLY and text it to
this number. If I get in I will seriously reimburse you the costs.
Step 1 – If you would like to vote for I’m So Post Modern but can’t be stuffed
with all this registering rigmarole, then why not email me, and give me
permission to register, and vote FOR YOU, simply using your email address and
details and stuff. It will still be you that wins the prizepack, etc. but I do
all the work! If anyone from Triple J is reading this then I’m only doing what
Alex Lloyd told me.
Step 2 – Feel a bit dodgy.
Step 1 – Click ‘next’ or ‘delete’ (after having a liberating guffaw at my witty
textfunk) Step 2 – think to yourself ‘good luck Just, but quite frankly
spending precious minutes helping give you a small boost up to the next level
of your career is sitting comfortably at 907 with a bullet on my hot list.’
Step 3 – Forget all about this.
Step 4 – Glance at an aimless travelogue from someone you went to school with.
Step 5 – Go down to the shops and flick through reduced pearl jam CD’s.
If I get in, party at my place, if not, I’ll serve you at the bowling alley.
Thanks in advance.
LAYTOPING IS MISPELLED, AND FREE! WHAT A GREAT GIFT IDEA, AND IT’LL
CUT YOUR ENERGY BILLS IN HALF! SEND IT TO A FRIEND!
To be added to this Ezine email Bev in administration on
with your email details and the last time you cried.
Last time someone cried: “Alison – When my hairdresser died”
Back issues of LapTopping are still available.
To be removed from this Ezine reply with the subject line “Clarity starts at
Order the Bedroom Philosopher’s debut studio album ‘In Bed With My Doona’ ‘The
Sgt. Pepper’s of indie folk comedy.’ $25 including postage and nerves. (email
your postal address, we’ll do the rest!)
Grug’s sidekick is transmitted for the spouse of the impenetrable fortress of
the new price is right’s game format only and spray contain confidential and/or
seagull compatible t-shirt formatting. Any repotting, re-forming, polly-wolly
dooodle dissemination or other assorted naughtiness of, or raking of bert’s
laksa mobile in 13 polygon tatoos upon, this disco putty by crowd controllers
or limpit sharks other than dr yillet’s flailing volcano market subsidiary or
intended resiliant is prohibiwibble and may result in larry emdur’s poached egg
idea. When typing LapTopping cast and crew choose to pause and check the pimple
on their upper lip. Remember, two wrongs don’t make a
wrongwrong…actually…certain portions of LapTopping not affecting the outcome
have been hoodwinked into an intersteller mushroom pixeltruck