**NOTE: This issue, Bev spilt Milo over everything and we’ve had muchos technical difficulties. Do let us know if this issue hasn’t been emailed to you, if you normally subscribe. laptopping@bedroomphilosopher.com**
LapTopping – The Bit Long, Official E-zine of The Bedroom Philosopher

Wednesday 6th June 2007.
Estimated Reading Time: 13:41 (Don’t rush, we can wait.)
**The Bedroom Philosopher has a band now! Check upcoming gigs in VIC/NSW/TAS.**



Happy Birthday Mark Wahlberg 36 yesterday!
Happy Birthday Simon Day (Ratcat) 41 today!
Happy Birthday Toni Pearen 35 today!
Happy Birthday Justin Heazlewood 27 this Tuesday!



It has come to my attention that some people find the lo-finess of LapTopping inhibits their ability to digest the text within. If this is the case, can I suggest that you read LapTopping directly from my website, which puts it in Times New Roman and nice bright colours. It is also readable from my Myspace blog, and you can adjust the text size in your browser. Due to Bev’s limited training in Desktop Publishing, and my own instinct to keep things simple, it will be a while before I do anything to make LapTopping more visually palatable. 
jessica rabbit



As I announce in the News section – I have a band! But what to call me/us?

Here’s some suggestions already:

The Bedroom Philosophers (Ah, see what I did there?)
The Bedroom Philosopher Experience (I am about to turn Hendrix age)
The Bedroom Philosopher Has A Band Now (That’ll never get old!)
The Bedroom Philosopher Etc. (Ah, there’s a band but we don’t have time to tell you!)
The Bedroom Philosopher & The Linen Set (I start Oasis/Blur style rivalry with Clare Bowdich!)
The Bedroom Philosopher & The Electric Blankets.

Anyway – want to have a punt? Please suggest away in the field provided below.


ON THIS DAY IN 1993. (A reading from my Grade Seven diary.)

“Got up and did a drive around the area. Called into the Beauty Point Hotel and had some drinks. Came home. Cooked tea. Spent night quiet. Later.”



Severed Heads – Dead Eyes Opened

“As the head of Emily Kaye lay upon the coals, the dead eyes
opened, and Mahon fled out to the deserted shore. When he nerved himself
to return, the fire had done its work.”



$40 Note. Black. T.I.S.M. / Mary McKillop.

$35 Note. Green and Gold. David Boon / Rose Byrne.

$15 Note. Orange. Agro / Ned Kelly.

$4 Coin. Charles ‘Bud’ Tingwell / Some budgies.

$137.65 Note. Rainbow. Matthew Krok / Quentin.



From Rebecca Woodhouse, of Launceston.

An elderly lady gets pulled over by a policeman in Ulverstone last week.

Policeman – “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over?”
Lady – “No, I don’t.”
Policeman – “You weren’t wearing your seatbelt.”
Lady – “I’ve not worn a seatbelt for seventy years, and I’m not gonna start wearing one now!”

From Maddy Phelan, of Wollongong.

Guy on train during first week of Uni:

‘The first time I had a hangover, I went to Wikipedia and looked up ‘hangover.’

From Jane Gregory, of North Fitzroy.

Two guys on the 86 tram on mothers day:

Guy 1: Did you call your mum from that phone in the hall?
Guy 2: Yeah, spoke to her this morning. You?
Guy 1: Nah, my mum’s in Phillip Island and you can’t dial overseas from that phone.

Have you overheard some memorable conversation of late? Perhaps witnessed a member of the ‘peeps’ doing something comical or weird? Let Bev know at laptopping@bedroomphilosopher.com. Include your home city or town.




From John Good, unknown.

“Before washing my jeans I search through my pockets for anything foreign to the jean entity. Unfortunately on this occasion my pockets were deeper than my concentration during the activity and my ipod shuffle went through the wash and is no longer playing Mudvayne’s ‘(Per)version of a truth’. You’ve probably had enough of the ipod, Mr. Philosopher, being a social purist as I’m sure you are. And I must admit that since my ipod’s demise my relationship with the common citizen of earth has improved somewhat. Thanks mate.”

From Lizzy Logan, unknown.

“My mp3 player has died. Well it isn’t dead most of the time, it just plays dead. One minute it will be working fine and the next it stops working all together, no matter how many times I change the batteries or hit the play button…no wait it really is dead I just stepped on it…”

From Tom “mouse” Harvey, London.

“My ipod died about three months ago. I am distraught. When I try and switch it on, it makes a funny clicking sound and then a picture of an ipod with a sad face comes up. Some people find that funny. I do not.”


Do you have an inanimate object that is ailing or has passed on? Let the
LapTopping community ease your suffering by emailing Bev with your home city or town:



Several phrases people have typed into Google to land on my website lately:

“hedgehog novelty cd racks”
“garth bbq”
“unicycle Tasmania”
“wheelbarrow inner tube”
“christian television Trevor”
“blank singlets”
“berry neckless”
“show me poems about surf lifesaving”
“weird pictures of bob hawke”
“john farnham tribute bands”
“where can i buy warheads lollies in Melbourne”
“modern biplane concepts”
“pictuers of billy ray cyruses house”
“what do plovers get eaten by”


Here are some lines from a bizarre search phrase I received, that smells to me like an ‘improved’ Americanised version of some ‘I’m So Post Modern’ lyrics:

I go to parties I’m not invited to locate the peanut butter and write my name on everyone.
I invite strangers to my house and put on a slide show of other people’s grandparents.
I was in your room sniffing your things while you were out. (?)
I carry lego’s in my pocket in case I ever need to trade them for
I’ve got a tattoo of my pin number from the time I did in the pen.
I iron all my lettuce leaves with a cold iron. (hilarious!)
I live in a tent with the declaration of independence written on the sides. (gosh they’re wacky!)
I write four thousand-word essays on the cultural significance of the fresh prince. (woooah, didn’t see that coming.)
I wrote a trilogy of novels from the perspective of a turtle that was as old as time. (get out!)
I marry all my friends soak myself in perfume and tell them that they’ve changed. (Ha! Really. Wow you’ve somehow managed to remove all the comedic conventions from every line. Well done Chuck! I’ll see you at church and we can pray for your sense of craft!)



Struth Be Told Column ‘Rip Rip Computer Chip (2005)’
Located at:

Okay, so I wrote a column for Canberra street press BMA about the moral implications of file sharing, and gave it this title, as everyone knows puns were invented so that sub-editors would have names for magazine articles. It’s a play on John Williamson’s 1991 hit ‘Rip Rip Woodchip.’ Well, over time, more and more people have found the page by searching for the lyrics to the song. My response to this was ‘helping’ by including the lyrics to the song underneath. This in turn has caused the amount of incidental John Williamson hits to sky rocket. To the point that a group of e-bushies are now permanently squatting on the page, throwing a tarp, boiling a billy and creating a makeshift John Willamson fansite. I have chastised these members, telling them to get a room at johnwilliamson.com and stuff, but this has been met with naïve pleas that I learn to love John Williamson by none other than ‘famous impersonator Undie ‘Unds’ Passo.’ (Who’s only Internet presence is being mentioned on my website.)

I wish to officially respond to Undie Passo’s following comment, made on my website on April 9 2007:

“Do yourself a favour and download the lyrics to ‘True Blue’ and I guarantee it will stir up emotions in you that you never knew you had. So much so that it was the song played at Steve Erwin’s (the crocodile hunter, in case you’re not sure, the most iconic Australian of the last decade) funeral.”

Justin’s response:

“Okay Undie, can I begin by saying that yes I am aware of the most iconic Australian of the last decade, and can only declare that he’s perhaps not as iconic as you suggest, if his most impassioned celebrators can’t succeed in SPELLING HIS LAST NAME CORRECTLY. Secondly, let’s just have a quick review of the ‘Coodabeen’ National Anthem.

Hey True Blue, don’t say you’ve gone
Say you’ve knocked off for a smoko
(Smoking causes 19000 deaths in Australia each year.)

True Blue, is it me and you
Is it Mum and Dad, is it a cockatoo
(Between 1986 and 2001, the number of one-parent families in Australia increased by 53%.)

Is it standin’ by your mate when he’s in a fight
(A recent Australian poll stated that 84 per cent of respondents believed the US-led invasion of Iraq had done nothing to lessen the threat of terrorism.)

Or just Vegemite
(Kraft is owned by US cigarette giant Philip Morris.)

Hey True Blue, can you bear the load
Will you tie it up with wire
Just to keep the show on the road

This metaphor seems fitting for the Liberal government’s token, short term efforts to deal with Global Warming. Money is thrown at the problem despite their failure to sign the Kyoto agreement, the only country in the world to do so other than America.

I am not interested in ‘hung n proud’s’ suggestion to: “turn up at Tanada…turn up with ure aussie flag!!!! (can I point out ‘Hung n proud’ that you’re using an Americanised abbreviation there.) If you wish to promote iconic Australian artists, why not mention The Herd. Call me Un-Australian, but I tend to connect more with the lyrics ‘wake up, this country needs a f**king shake up, than this collection of outdated ideologies and rhetoric.

DO YOU HAVE A MEDIA WATCH? Send us the link or hardcopy and we’ll sort it out. For more info contact Bev at laptopping@bedroomphilosopher.com



Our good friend, Author Adam Ford is calling for submissions to his Blog Monkey Punch Dinosaurs

He wants pictures of the following:
1. monkeys
2. punching
3. dinosaurs
4. the monkey is the puncher
5. the dinosaur is the punchee
You can send these items to: adamatsya@gmail.com

Australian children’s Author Susan Macauley of Smithton, Tasmania is starting a worldwide campaign to free toilet dolls. She is looking for pictorial evidence of toilet dolls being freed. Submission information is located on the following page:


Got a tip-off for some e-nuggets? Let us know: laptopping@bedroomphilosopher.com


NEWS (Brought to you by Dude McFace, the lovable unemployment doll that children adore. Forget ‘fantasy bears’ filling your child’s head with intangible notions – let little one be lulled to sleep by Dude’s crackly tales of having his place broken into, being ripped off by his defacto, and losing his job at the rugby canteen.)

• I have a band! (Not just me with a Tamborine stuck to my head – although that act seeks management) It is with great honour and pleasure that I welcome into my musical boudoir Andy Hazel on bass. (It’s okay to clap at the computer.) And Hugh Rabinovici on drums. (More clapping!) Andy is originally from Tasmania, has been in seminal UK outfits Yay Us! and Tacoma Radar (who were on the same label as Camera Obscura), is studying Naturopathy and is possibly the nicest person ever invented. Hugh has studied drumming in India, is currently studying improvisation at the Victorian College of the Arts, wears a mean waistcoat and is phenomenally good. Extra instruments and members shall be deployed at special events such as album launches – keeping the three of us as the indie-core.

We had our first gig at the Espy at midnight – and officially didn’t suck, with honours. I am still recovering from the sheer joy of seeing ‘unsolicited bopping’ from assorted punters. Dancing is the new laughs. (And dancing while laughing is the ultimate feedback, although it does look like you’re having relations with a cheeky ghost.) At one point a guy yelled out “are you emo?” Small steps.

• The small coastal town of Swansea on the East coast of Tasmania was all smiles after winning Australia’s most premier community award and being named Australia’s tidiest town.

• My lady partner Anna and I recently celebrated one year of being together. I thank her humbly for her warmth, humour and processes.

• A new planet has been discovered by astronomers – It’s got the same climate as Earth, plus water and gravity. It’s twenty light years away and five times the diameter of Earth. It supports the theory that the universe is teeming with Earth-like planets. Lucky America has introduced intergalactic copyright. This was introduced after Singer Peggy Lee successfully sued the Disney corporation, after they started selling ‘Lady and the Tramp’ videos. Her contract back in the day hadn’t mentioned the use of these futuristic devices. Disney added a ‘throughout the universe’ clause to make sure studios never went through anything like that again. Or something.

• Before going in to see Spiderman 3 at Melbourne Hoyts, I went into the bathroom to fill up my water bottle, placing my ticket in my mouth to hold while I completed the task. The new-age art-deco designed taps were very low in the basin and sent the water sprouting out like a shower, so it took me a lot longer than expected to fill my bottle. Thus, the saliva holding the ticket in my mouth dried, so that when I raced out and snatched back my ticket, I tore off a little bit of skin, which I could see, like a butterfly’s eyelid, on the ticket. It hurt for the rest of the day. Particularly after being mixed with the pain of seeing the film.

• In Bed With My Doona has been catalogued by the National Libraries of Australia. http://nla.gov.au/anbd.bib-an000041157467. If you don’t feel like buying the album, and can’t download it, you can always borrow it. Gee, you could probably sell a few bootlegged copies on cassette, apply for a small business loan, get a few lucky rolls at Crown Casino and retire.

• My dear Pop, Len Heazlewood passed away peacefully on May 12 in Burnie Hospital, aged 87. He was a good man and very loved.


A GIGGLE OF GIGS (Tasmania, Melbourne and Sydney)

• Friday 8th June. (Solo) The Loft. Liverpool Street, Hobart. Doors open 7. I think I’m on around 8:30? $10 or so.

• Saturday 16th June. (Solo) Stagedoor Café. Upper Burnie. (My first gig in hometown Burnie since my short set at ‘Pooljam’ at the Burnie Olympic pool in 1998.) $10/5. Doors open 8.

• Thursday 21st June. (Solo) Rob Roy. Cnr Gertrude/Brunswick St. Fitzroy. Supporting The Raylenes w/ Josh Earl. $8. 8pm.

• Thursday 5th July. (With Band! + Superb line-up) The Tote. Cnr Johnston/Wellington. Supported by The Basics (Getting great wraps – feat. Wally from Gotye on drums) + Scott Edgar & The Universe. (their last gig for a few months.) $8. 8pm.

• Thursday 12th July. (With Band! + Superb line-up) The Annandale. 17 Parramatta Road, Annandale. W/ Richard In Your Mind (JJJ Unearthed Winners), Ergo B Bag (15 piece eurocollision superstars). $10. Doors 730pm. I advise you to get down early to catch supports.

• Thursday 26th July. (With Band!) Northcote Social Club. High St, Northcote. W/ The Great Apes (exciting garage glam rock feat. ex-Burnie citizens) plus more TBA. $10. 8pm.


STORYTIME (Brought to you by NEW! Rum and Raison Kit-Kats “When you feed your family of four, so can our marketing department.”)

I recently supported seminal child entertainer Peter Combe at the Corner in Richmond. The appreciation of this artist is certainly contained within a specific demographic. If you’re somewhere between the ages of say 20-30 and were allowed to watch a lot of television as a child – you might realise the stupendous magnitude and bizarre gloriousness of such a childhood idol returning to play a respected band room in the year 2007. Peter Combe’s filmclips to kid-pop hits ‘Newspaper Momma,’ ‘Mr Clickety Cane.’ And ‘Spaghetti Bolognaise,’ were a burst of audio icing betwixt long running series Vicky the Viking, Belle and Sebastian (about a small boy and his dog who played in an indie Pop band) and The Wizard of Oz. Much to my surprise, he also wrote ‘Juicy Juicy Green Grass’ which we used to sing in primary school. I’d always considered it to have that ‘Octopuses Garden’ breed of melodic superpower, or a timeless traditional quality like “Lion Sleeps Tonight.” (which was adapted from an African pop song in 1939, interestingly, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lion_Sleeps_Tonight) – but sure enough, it was our man Combe. Seriously, why isn’t he as big as The Wiggles? He’s got the singles.

As cynical as one may be about Myspace, it almost single handedly provided the communication fuel for this retrospective renaissance. Peter’s page had been getting blasted solidly over the last year from net savvy twenty something’s hungry for nostalgia. Just the sight of the neon-hip Myspace layout turned canary yellow with a squiggly picture of a kid chewing spaghetti – juxtaposes the senses in a gallantly memorable way. He barely advertised this gig, and rightly so (John’s brother.) Melbourne’s a word of mouth town, and the words Peter Combe burst forth from mouths with the pyrotechnical force of his major chord choruses. The mystery! The enigma! What was he going to do? Talk to us like kids? Perform his edgy, darker material. “I’m on pills, all is blotto – Italian Risotto.” – (everybody!)

I’ll tell you what he did. He played the hits and he rocked the compound. I had the pleasure of introducing him on stage – opting for “sorry everyone, Peter Combe’s sick – (ferocious booing) – sick of waiting to play! (redeeming cheers.) And then he walked on stage to the kind of roar I’d imagine you’d witness if the remaining members of The Beatles and Led Zeppelin formed a super group and headlined Glastonbury. Seriously. Thereabouts.

He’d aged well, keeping his chestnut brown curly hair, and spoke in a respectfully exuberant manner, mentioning that the last time he’d seen everyone they’d been small – he addressed us like old friends, like the children with adult minds that we’d always known ourselves to be. He had a superb keyboard player in vest and cap next to him, looking like everyone’s favourite uncle, and they were tight – on song – adept – oozing traditional rockstar charisma and stage presence in surprising abundance. Subject matter aside – these were perfectly good songs! And they’ve been playing them for twenty years. For a moment we were allowed a hazy Sunday wormhole between our wide-eyed younger selves and the crisp wit of adulthood. So seasoned were the sonic foundations that you could mentally rebuild your childhood lounge room, using this vibrant, earhugging musicality as a base.

When he dropped Mr Clickety Cane – there were cordial bubbles in my bloodstream from the thunderous roar of a squadron of trendily unpretentious Gen-Yers in home made newspaper hats screaming ‘bellyflop in a pizza?’ with the kind of mock vehemence reserved for the moment John Howard announces that Christmas is cancelled.

Backstage Peter was thoughtful and collected. I particularly enjoyed him telling me he probably wouldn’t be playing anything from his new albums. ‘Everything will come from the first four albums tonight.’

My bit went fine. Looking though my set list I realised what an appropriate support I was as nearly all my songs were dedicated to themes of nostalgia and mod-retro pop culture references. This included Generation ABC, that I wrote in 2002 and has a line mentioning Peter Combe, a fact that I made sure to communicate to him in my initial email contact.
‘Spinning out to the tunnel in Doctor Who / kiddie karaoke to Peter Combe.’
Delivering that line, I felt like an Olympic freestyle skier who’d nailed the landing.

Afterwards, Peter was satisfying a line of autograph hunters for over an hour, and all that remained were a few crushed newspaper hats and, I kid you not, three pairs of women’s underwear scattered on the dance floor. Had they gone to throw them and lost heart? Had they brought them from home? Or was it a simple, pragmatic decision – I’m here – Combe’s bringing it – and this Newspaper Momma is H.O.T.



To be added to this Ezine check out www.bedroomphilosopher.com and go to the LapTopping page.

Last time someone cried: Zac – “When my crayons broke and I couldn’t get 25k from the government to replace them.”


NOTICE & DISCLAIMER: This yibbet and any sob stories transmitted winglet may smell confidential or sloppysight my cereal and are forgy the bacharach of the Tennessee stud. Look Parsons, If you have received this steaming satchel of Mrs Crux’s washing in error please hot air balloon us napkins and by hell don’t touch that you’ll ruin Phoebe’s flan. Delete it from your system at once and by delete we mean flush and system we mean la system, Frenchy. The University of Cooldudes accepts no wangfangity for any damage caused by anything much, especially a virus that makes your computer transform into a robotic version of Christina Ricci. If this occurs, perhaps detain the droid with a game of cards and G and T and please resist the urge to lightly stroke its face and tell it that you loved it on screen and enjoyed the gothic nature of its demeanour. It’s a machine after all and you’d best not confuse it.


“As the head of Emily Kaye lay upon the coals, the dead eyes
opened, and Mahon fled out to the deserted shore. When he nerved himself
to return, the fire had done its work.”