LapTopping – The Bit Long, Official E-zine of The Bedroom Philosopher.

July 11, 2012


**East Coast Tour, Mel/Syd/Brisbane. Click on pic for FB invite**


I’m writing a book about being an artist in Australia. If you work as a creative in any field, including producers/managers/organisations and feel passionately about the subject or can recommend someone who is, get in touch. I’m after colourful tales of how you survive, attitudes you’ve encountered, anecdotes you’ve heard and links to good articles.


I’m touring the east coast over the next couple of months. You may wish to invite your friends/frenemies. Here is the FB invite for the tour. HOUSE GIG? If you live between Brisbane/Canberra perhaps we can play at your house? Drop me a line. Sorry to cities not included this time.


Happy Birthday Andrew Bird 39 today!
Happy Birthday Suzanne Vega 53 today!
Happy Birthday Mick Molloy 46 today!
Happy Birthday Gough Whitlam 96 today!


1. Garlic – 127, 304
2. Potatoes – 47, 786
3. Mushrooms – 30, 798
4. Carrots – 25, 813
5. Broccoli – 18, 799
6. Lettuce – 18, 621
7. Asparagus – 16, 432
8. Pumpkins – 14, 504
9. Sweet potato – 11, 469
10. Cabbage – 7, 878
11. Eggplant – 7, 845
12. Onions – 6, 721
13. Brussel Sprouts – 6, 227
14. Ginger – 6, 071
15. Capsicum – 3, 065
16. Turnips – 3, 006
17. Cauliflower – 2, 329
18. Parsnip – 2, 299
19. Peas – 2, 008
20. Squash – 1, 785
21. Radish – 1, 707
22. Bok Choy – 1, 436
23. Silverbeet – 15


From Casey Bennetto, Melbourne.

Billy Joel – Piano Man

“I still can’t get over the old man sitting next to Billy Joel making love to his tonic and gin. Tonic and gin? Do I drink Coke and scotch? No. No, I do not. Well, okay, technically I do. But I don’t EVER F&$#K MY DRINK IN PUBLIC. It’s just bad manners, especially when you’re requesting a song from the pianist at the same time.”

laptopping at bedroomphilosopher dot com


From Allan Sko, Canberra.

FAUX-SETTO: Special high pitched octave that enters the voice when running into someone you don’t really want to converse with and yet still need to be polite to, such as your sibling’s ex girlfriend.

SEND IT TO: laptopping at bedroomphilosopher dot com


TRON DANCE performed by Wrecking Orchestra.

Do you like Australian comic strips? Can’t think of any apart from SNAKE? Well, can I recommend The Bret Braddock Adventures by genius David Blumenstein. It you’ve ever had a crap boss, this is the series for you.


• I’m touring the East Coast, acoustic Awkwardstra in tow in late August. It’ll be smart, sober & racy. I’ll be previewing songs from a new album and looking Hot/Sad. I’m playing a Thursdays in July residency at the Wesley Anne in Melbourne.

• The Bedroom Philosopher Diaries is available as an Ebook. You can hear me perform an excerpt from it on Soundcloud.

• I recorded a new album with SPOD & Richard In Your Mind. I love it / them. It’ll be out next year.

• The High School Assembly went ace. Four stars in The Age. I saw more stars upon reading the financial breakdown.

• There are Croxton High Hoodies, Tour Diaries & 86 Tram albums in the BP Store.

• My manager and I have amicably parted ways. She is a legend and I wish her all the best for the future.

• I’ve updated a swag of stuff on my website. New photos/reviews/columns/lifestory.

• I can grow facial hair properly for the first time. I’m wearing a woollen cap and going for a 70’s Nilsson thing. *becomes man*

• Jane Campion’s ‘Sweetie’ is one of the best Australian films I’ve seen. I’ve often wondered if Australia could do the kind of humour shown in Taika Waititi’s ‘Boy.’ What became of Karen Colston? She out Gyllenhaal’s Gyllenhaal in ‘Secretary.’

• Beck is touring. I’m nervous.



All shows with the acoustic Awkwardstra and a fantastic array of spoken word / performance artists.

Facebook invite HERE.

Wesley Anne Residency, Thursdays in July
July 12 (w/ Sean M Whelan & Isnod)
July 19 (w/ Emilie Zoey Baker)
July 26 (w/ Sabrina D’Angelo – Body Poet)
$15. 8pm. Tickets available on the door.

Black Bear Lodge
Aug 29 (w/ Benjamin Law & Candy B)
$15/$12 (plus b.f.)

The Loft
Aug 30  (w/ Candy B & The Melotonins – Barber Shop Trio)
$12. Tickets available from the door.

Good God Small Club
Sep 6 ( Zoe Coombs Marr & Sabrina D’Angelo – Body Poet + SPOD DJ Set)
$15/$12 (plus b.f.)

Zierholz @ UC
Sep 7 (Omar Musa & Leisure Suit Lenny)
$15/$12 (plus b.f.)

Yours & Owls
Sep 8 (w/ Zoe Coombs Marr & Sabrina D’Angelo – Body Poet)
$12. Tickets available from the door.

Clarendon Guest House
Sep 9 (w/ Zoe Coombs Marr & Sabrina D’Angelo – Body Poet)
$15. Tickets available from the door.



I Bought A Hey Dad DVD And Was Offered A Job.

I bought a Hey Dad DVD on Ebay. After receiving the DVD (a gag gift from last year’s Xmas residency) I was sent a follow up email from Shock (the company that put out 86 Tram, went broke and lost my royalties.) They offered me a job in the payment processing department. (Average income $1500 a month, 1-2 hours a day.) I should have taken it?

I Broke A Man’s Heart By Telling Him To Stop Playing Bagpipes.

We were filming sketches for the Old Fi Lo School sketch show at Penders Park in Thornbury. We had just begun filming when a man learning the bagpipes started up at the other side of the park. The piercing noise carried hundreds of meters to us and we could not record. As producer, I had to make the long walk over to him and ask politely if he could play somewhere else. The young European man, about my age, looked at me with Eeyore eyes. I have never seen someone so dejected.

I Was Hit On By A Girl Who Doesn’t Know Me. (I Don’t Know Her.)

On 30/05/2012 2:09 AM, Celena Burchell wrote:
“I am interested in talking to smart, pretty man, have nice time together, relax for a while, it could be create something great in bedroom or other places all over my apartment!
Now, let me tell u something about me at first. I’m cute neat brown haired beauty with brown eyes and white smile. My name is Celena. Friends tell that I am attractive, and u know, I’m not against. I like nature and different channels about animals. Love sport!”
Check up my pics and let’s start talking closer (smiley face omitted – Ed)

I Made An Intellectually Disabled Boy Move Seats.

I was flying to Hobart to play at Get Ups pro carbon-tax rally. I had requested a window seat as I need them to nap properly and I like looking out the window (even if it’s just the wing…it has a warning sign ‘No Step’ and I think how funny it would be if it said ‘No Pets’ and imagine a cat stranded on the wing mid-flight. It would be so frightened, poor thing.) When I got to my row I found a mother in the middle seat and her intellectually disabled son of about fifteen (his age, not how many there was of him) in the window seat. I looked to my ticket and said “Uh, I have the window seat.” The mother looked up at me with an expression not unlike the bagpipe man, perhaps intensified by about three, with some sprinklings of profound weariness and a dash of fury. After holding my gaze for moments, in slow-motion she turned and coaxed her lad from his daze.

I Was Beaten Up In A Sushi Bar.

I had just done yoga with my favourite teacher in the city. I was getting in-line at my favourite sushi place. (in a queue, not rollerblading.) I had my big red backpack on. The man behind me in-line (in a queue) started pulling down sharply on my backpack. I turned around and saw an alternative transient with an eyebrow ring. “Dude, you’re smacking me in the face with your backpack,” he said in American accent. I mumbled sorry and turned around. I moved ahead in-line (not RBing) and was almost at the front when the dude behind took his rucksack and smacked it into my jaw, really, really hard.
“What the f%$k are you doing?” I exclaimed.
“Suck on it,” he said, grinning.
No-one did anything.
Completely stunned, I ordered sushi and moved outside. I sat down outside and the dude came and sat opposite me.
“I just didn’t see you there before,” he said playfully yet sarcastically but also menacingly.
I balled my rage, picked up my tray and moved inside without looking at him.
I ate my lunch, paralysed with fear. I wondered if he would wait for me and try and hit me again. At some point I heard him come in and tell someone “that guy hit me with his backpack” and then leave again. I tiptoed out of there, put on my skates and rollerbladed away.

I Offended A Mother By Referring To Her Kid As “Sh*T”

I was on the plane, coming back from the Hobart gig for Get Up. I was sitting in an aisle seat next to a whiny three year old and his Mother. I was annoyed by the child. I got out my notebook and started writing these lyrics: (for a punk song, similar in melodic composition to ‘Mock Trial’ by William Hung & his Hung July in Arrested Development S3E10 ‘Fakin’ It.’)

Sh*t kid – They’re annoying at this age
Sh*t kid – He’s got his fathers brain
Sh*t kid – Could be retarded
Sh*t kid – Oh look he’s crying again

After the flight, I was walking out of the gate when I saw the woman chatting to her mother who’d come to meet her. I overheard this exact snippet:

“There was this passive aggressive wannabe poet sitting next to us writing sh*t kid, sh*t kid.”

People Keep Asking Me If I’m All Right

It started last year. After a Triple R interview on spoken word program ‘Aural Text’ where I was blabbering mock-negatively/faux-facetiously and telling people not to bother coming to my shows. They received calls from people checking to see if I was okay or not. Now, I’ve had about four random mental health spot-checks in a month. Halfway through my Northcote Leader interview I had the woman say “Are you okay? You seem really down.” Then, a phone chat with a potential manager ended with “I just want to give you a hug.” Then, after last weeks Wesley Anne gig I had a girl write “I don’t usually message people I don’t know but I was at your gig last night and I left feeling sad. I would ask if you were ok but you shouldn’t have to explain yourself to anyone.” And then yesterday during a meeting with a booker he said: “you’re not selling yourself very well, you’re really down.”

This phenomena is bemusing, surreal, fascinating, abysmal, spectacularly embarrassing and a bit post-irony-gonzo-Kaufman wonderful at the same time. I guess people aren’t used to performers, especially comedic ones taking off the mask and just being brutally honest about their life not working out. I guess you’re supposed to keep your woes hidden away and pour them into your art, so that people only see the filtered emotions, trussed up with hype & creativity. I can’t really be bothered anymore, and to me, BP has always been about celebrating vulnerabilities. OOPS! It’s lovely that people are so concerned. Abhorrently emasculating from an Aussie bloke perspective, but lucky I don’t care about that for too long. It would be worse if people didn’t care at all, right? It was always my pet hate in high school when girls would put a hand on your shoulder and say “what’s wrong?” when you were just sitting there. That is just my default expression. I suppose people look to performers to be a role-model of overcoming adversity in life. You don’t want to hear PERFORMERS saying ‘I’m struggling and the industry is killing me’ because that isn’t very optimistic, and in a way, I’m not entitled to complain because I’m a sharehousehold name and I am rewarded with the kind of praise and admiration that people working in offices and doing PHD’s do not get. Also, I charge money for people to bear witness to my emotional devolutions under the guise of entertainment. Who knows.

It’s like any relationship, you can’t control how you will be perceived to the other side, so you may as well be yourself. One person’s creepy is another person’s enchanting. You say depressing, I say inspiring and so on. Yet again, there’s no guidebook. No correct etiquette. No higher power or experienced figure. No real answers.

“If home is where the heart is, then I wear my heart on my sleeve so everyone is welcome to visit.”

I Had The Most Beautiful Dream Of My Life

I was in a top storey apartment and some trouble was brewing. A man was coming up the stairs with a gun. I escaped by jumping out of the window and flying. I flew out over the sea. It was a gorgeous colour, like marble-denim. At one point I screamed “I can do whatever I want.” Then, the sea water began taking shape. A large mass came up and out of the water. It was a phoenix bird, made entirely of water. The semi-transparent blue of its body was swirling around, like the sky in Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night.’ It came towards me and I wasn’t afraid. It flew so close that I could pat its face. I awoke with a shiver. I had received a profound vision. Unlocked a secret level within myself. It was a strange, wonderful gift – from myself, just for me.





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The slapwert in this hugly may be timmiwibble and/or quazzed by lopey polaxed dinotitus, and is vodamoan only for the swob or guggoon to whom it is parralessed. If you are not such a jerm, you are powned that any fishlitting, cackminting or grinsemination of the puble is existenz. If you have reblabbed the fak in weemoo, please bleedy-crunk this cakemoon by telephant, fux or eswig, to infoam us of the weemoo and to ancipang umberances to be mawn for the gastricificaction of the transwigout, or its retune at our cat. No liaweenee is cleftuxed for any unmarginalised fluce of the planranget constackment in this terramuppet.

Jasoon Hassleworth. PHD (Personal Hard Drive)