Ode to my moon boot

My moon boot joined my life
After skating went a strife
It was not a joy to see it come
Since then I have been crawling on my bum
The crutches can be classed as foe
As in the wet they really blow
I cannot wait to see you go
Oh moon boot I hate you it is so
I must confess you have one plus
That is that you have sweet velcroness

Yea Boy

Macaframa once again....

Hater Love

Having not written on my blog for quite sometime now, I unfortunately find myself in a downward spiral of effortless hate, where this first post after a long dry spell is all about the hate.

At present I am caught in a situation wherein I am doing all the work for something that will place great benefit on the other parties involved. It's like an expedition to the North Pole for the first time yet the rest of the trekkers are in my backpack and when I reach the final destination, they're all going to jump out and congratulate each other on a job well done. Well I got two words and one finger for these folk today, if they think they're going to attempt to keep riding this wave of effortless joy.

Don't you find that there are always these people in life who will always attempt to squeeze as much out of you as possible while keeping the exertion factor in their lives to the minimum. I just want to stand up, rip the teet from their mouths and just do all sorts of nasty things to them.
Why do I feel compelled to do this? Because I work damn hard when I want something and when I get it I know that I have achieved something. But these little bastards don't get any satisfaction out of the situation. And you feel like knocking them in the head and just plainly saying; "It's because I did all the work you wanker!"

Well I guess there are workers in this world and then there are the people that play piggy back. I just hope I never become one of those people that leach on situations and suck people dry till they can't give no more and then move onto the next little juicy worker bee.

Leaving "The Twig" Again

Lady and The Tramp 'Liquorish Styles' in Venice

So from my previous post you know I'm off to Milan again. Hip Hip Hooray. The only thing that really sucks about going so far away, is missing the girl. For you who know Twiggy, she is small enough to fit in my suitcase and I am sitting here wishing that I could squish the little critter in a big bag and bring her along. This is sadly not the case and she will be staying behind pursuing her career in the big wide world that is Sydney.

Galleria Vittorio Emanuele

Even in this world of virtual sex, yoga and walking robots, you still cant pack hugs, kisses or cuddles. Now I aint no poof, but a guy needs a nice big hug from his women at least once a day to keep him going and I'm going to miss them for four weeks. Man that's like 30 something hugs give or take the extra hug thrown in there for good effort days :), far out!

Bed Dancing

So this blog post is dedicated to the little lady in my life that I'm going to miss too too too much. I'm probably going to get skinned alive for putting these pics up, but you know what I've always been a causeless rebel so here goes. These few shots are from when Liv came to Milan last July.

Twig in the Road

Ti amo tesoro....

Milano Milan Here I Come...

So at the end of the week I'm heading back to Milan for a wee visit. Yeehaa!
Milan is a beautiful city in its own right but what really gets me about the city is the fact that you can escape to the most beautiful, life-changing areas in Italy on the weekends. Just great.
My favourite place to disappear to is Piedacavallo, in Biella. The times that I have spent in Piedacavallo have changed my life.

The serenity is amazing. You are able to really sit back and think about who you are to yourself. Forget about all the worlds problems and just focus on nothing for a change. The view from my window is unbelievable. I look out on a bell tower that I kid you not rings every 15 minutes.

This makes sure that all the little Catholics can't say they didn't know what the time was, and are always on time. The surrounding Swiss Alps provide scenery that could put your gran into cardiac arrest. The waterfall below is a 2o minute walk from where I stay and all the Italians are too lazy to ever walk there, so I am normally the only one taking the plunge. And fark the water is freezing. Click the picture below to truly gauge the size of this here monster.


Overall this is my favorite place on planet earth at present.

Mr Fire Hydrant Man

A boring day.

A fire hydrant thingy-majig

Some old paint


A bottle of red


Mr Fire Hydrant Man is born

Make or break

Have you ever felt like your living in a pseudo world full of fake mother fuckers, who are on a unassociated sabbatical of incoherent bullshit. These people find you threatening as you have what is known to the human species as a brain. And this brain has a mind of its own and it has an opinion and it loves to believe that by fighting the good fight its opinion does really matter. Well wake the fuck up buddy. Your opinion don't count shit in this place we call home. It don't matter how many prezzies you give or how much you contribute you are still a threat and a threat is a threat is a threat. The people that seem to make it in this world are the passive aggressive types that don't seem to contribute much but at the same time get their own way no matter what. What the fucks up with that! Anywho who am I to judge I'm a piece of shit locked into a spiral of fags and narcissists all on a mission to contribute their 2 cents to this human existence. Then again life ain't sunshine and roses its hard work and it don't come easy.

Stay sharp and keep your chin up champ.... do this and you'll make it.

Monologue

Rome is burning he said as he poured himself another drink, yet here I am knee deep in a river of pussy. Here it comes she thought another self indulgent whiskey soaked diatribe about how fucking great everything was in the past and how all us pour souls born to late to see the stones at wherever, or snort the good coke like they had at studio 54 well we'd all just missed out on practically everything worth living for, and the worst part was she agreed with him. Here we are she thought, at the edge of the world, the very edge of western civilization and all of us are so desperate to feel something, anything that we keep falling into each other and fucking our way towards the end of days.

~ californication

Millie Oh Deary Me

So you have been introduced to our one cat confit who is pure genius, but have not yet had the pleasure of meeting the house spinster, which is Millie.


The ferrel beast will not talk to you unless she wants to be fed. If you are daring to go within a few feet of her she will screech, hiss and attempt to claw at you. I have spent my last 4 weeks attempting to be super nice to her by, trying to brush her and pat her and praise her and feed her and just give her some much needed TLC. What do I get in return? I'll tell you. A screech, hiss and claw. Luckily she isn't the smartest kitty on the block and most times she fails at any attempt at intimidation.

Holga Holga Holga ~ Hoot Hoot

Have any of you heard of the photographer Lucia Fischer? I know I certainly haven't. But who cares, that's not the point.
The point is that she is exhibiting some work this Friday at China Heights and it's all Holga photographs. Yummy! Here's a few sneak preview shots and the flyer.

You should definitely try make it.

And for you philistines out there that don't know what a Holga camera is, shame on you get culturalised and google stuff. ha!

thanks to Luciddreams.com for the pics. chur

Pigeon Hating (yoll)

I have been dating a girl for the last two and a bit years and if you ever get the chance to meet her you will honestly believe in your heart of hearts that she couldn't harm a fly. After knowing her for a little while though, I discovered the fun fact that the girl loathes pigeons. "They are filthy and just plane disgusting."

The girl attempts to kick them wherever she goes and will squeal if one gets within 10 meters or so from her. Too classic in my mind. Is there a fear of pigeons? You know like arachnophobia for spiders except what would it be called for pigeons? Flyingrataphobia, foulaphobia? Anyway.

Her latest 'worst case scenario' happened in New York, when a pigeon attempted to mug her of her 5 dollar Magnolia bakery cupcake. Unacceptable! This impolite gesture from Mr pigeon was met with a swinging handbag and some naughty words that I've never heard her use before. Ultimately she is not fond of the cities flying rats but approves of doves as they are "pretty". Gosh!

New York New York

I'm having one of those dumb, reminisce, the-grass-is-always-greener-somewhere-else days. As you now know I have modeled in a few countries and am in Sydney at present. I haven't got anything against the Aussie city, it's just that it's missing that flair that most European and some American cities seem to have on offer. Today I am missing the charm of NYC. I don't know whether its actually charm or attitude, but man that city can even make a philistine pray.

Looking North from the Rockefeller Center

I think what appealed to me the most was the fact that I could go out any night of the week and there would be a mass selection of things to do. I mean not just three or four happenings, I'm talking 20 nutty, louse events, that you will not remember the next day. And that's just in my old hood of the LES (Lower East Side). This has it's ups and downs but it's not just any old city, that has this trait.

Most cities are variably all the same thing during the day. I like to think of them as a collective of people self indulging in their own sorry state of affairs, wondering where their next lay will come from. But at night they can take on a whole different demeanor.

Looking South from the Rockefeller Centre

NYC is a perfect example of this. During the day he is Jake from accounts at Harold and sons on west 33rd, just punching numbers through his day, but at night he is Jacqueline the transvestite burlesque star working the floor at Motor City. It's definitely the small things that count. As Mr Wolfe says "You are a character, but that doesn't mean you have character."

Mid-Winter Rooftop Cinematic Experience

For the past week and a bit my flatties and I have been contemplating the idea of a mid winter rooftop movie night extravaganza. The idea has mostly been discussed over too much red wine and seems to get nowhere, due to costs and effort. I am now in full swing of too much time on my hands and am keen to make this happen. As from my previous post (click here) the view from our rooftop haven is stellar.

This is part of the roofs view

What I need from you guys is, if your in the Sydney area and would be keen to watch a movie on a roof, ($10) send me ideas of what cinematic exploration you would like to experience. We are keen to get it up and running but we need to know if anyone would be as excited as us.

More roof including our other cat Milly (shes a grumpy old bitch)

So peeps what do you reckon send your ideas to everydaysameday@gmail.com or just leave a comment! Chur.

Lyle Roblin

The man himself (for you dummies the picture above is of Lyle Roblin)

There are moments in life where you meet someone who truly makes an impression on your verve. For me this came in the form of a 40-something-year-old "dude", Lyle Roblin. Now that might sound super weird to most, but I met Lyle when I was at a low point in life. Living in Milan, unable to speak Italian and waiting for a paycheck. We were introduced and from that day forth have been friends on a different level. We are both a bit nutty and sure enough we act like 10-year-olds when we are out and about. The ex-Calvin Klein model and I get along like a bowl of rice in China.

Lyle has a family which he would defend to the end. Two beautiful daughters and a model turned university professor wife - what more could a guy ask for? Enough about all that jazz; what Lyle does, in a world of point-and-shoot wannabees, is take amazing, first-click, resonating photographs. The man has feeling behind the lens and the photos that he produces are, for lack of a better word, superlative. Take a look for yourself.

Photos courtesy of Lyle Roblin

He is a firm believer in karma and it is hitting him hard lately, being invited to show his work all over the world including; Milano, Singapore and New York.
Check him out on his site here.

Fuck Zee Man

I was skating home from a peck of lunch with the Mrs about an hour ago, when I stumbled upon this young Fräulein. She had a mop of hair that had been somehow clipped and sprayed and pulled to form what was one of the coolest quiffs I have ever seen. The rest of her outfit was slouchy comfort yet cool. All of a sudden my mouth became unwired from my brain and in a rude, relapsed state of tourettes I blurted; "what were you thinking when you got dressed this morning?" Without even an ounce of hesitation, she replied in a thick European(I think German or Danish) accent, "fuck barbie and fuck zee man!"


The world needs more women like this. Girls who honestly look like they could kick your ass but at the same time are sweeter than a cherry pie, that your Gran (with no taste buds left) used to bake. Need I say more?

Narcissistic Vibrations

This post is to purely serve as a touch of insight into who's blog you are actually reading. So if you don't know me, for the past year and a bit, I have been referred to as a male model. In all honesty the words male model almost want to make me spew! As soon as I ever mention that to anyone I meet, you can see that I have been summed up, placed in my little box, taped up, stamped and sent to the land of the fairies for all they're concerned. This is all good with me as, during the course of the last year I have been fortunate enough to travel and work in Milan, New York, London, Australia and New Zealand, which has been no less than freaking fantastic.


I have worked for fashion houses like Gucci, Roberto Cavalli, Etro, Diesel, Valentino, Replay, 55DSL, Levi's and many more. I have shot a whole bunch of editorial and am always looking to do more. I recently shot the 55DSL campaign (Diesel's son) and hopefully a few more are in the pipeline.
It has been a roller-coaster ride with thrills and spills but I have had a bloody blast all along the way. The little montage above is of a few of my favourite shows I have done this year. Yeeehhaaa!

Sunday Shooting

Here are a couple of shots I took today of a 6ft gorgeous girl Greta, at Chadwick models, who's been working up a storm in Sydney lately.


All the styling was done by the amazing Miss Olivia Fleming. Big big big ups to you for putting up with all my shite during the course of the couple of hours I got cranky. Woot woot.

All images are copyright of the photographer.

My Crazy Pussy

So one of the two cats that lives in our humble abode is named Confit (~con fee~).


dictionary.com's definition for confit is:
– noun French Cookery.
Duck or goose cooked in its own fat and preserved.


This might seem super weird to most but the lass behind the name is an amazing chef who works at the fooking fantastic, fabulous French restaurant Onde in Darlinghurst (the most amazing T-bone steak in Sydney and you have to try the beef cheaks. Heaven).


Now back on to the little slice of terror.

This wee pussy can keep me entertained for hours on end. We are absolutely sure that he is a wee bit retarded and thinks he is a dog, but here are a few phots I've taken over the last while that show this misfit in all his glory.

Enjoy.

Mr Cockatoo

I am presently living with two other couples, a goldfish, two cats and a motherless cockatoo that visits my balcony at 5 in the morning. The lungs on this little bugger could make a grape wet its pants and shrivel up into a raisin. Why is it that such a gnarly little creature, with wings I might add, has to land on my damned balcony and nowhere else.

I'll tell you why! I fed the little bastard and now he wants more.


All the annoyances aside, the present bane of my life is actually quite cool. Lately I've been searching for the positives in every situation that crosses my path and this is what I mustered up for this present annoyance.


10 positives an arse of a cockatoo brought to my life:

1. I wake up early without having to set an alarm
2. I sleep less
3. I drink more coffee
4. The increased coffee intake has a natural laxative effect
5. I have time to do things like blog
6. I have discovered that my fish doesn't sleep much and is always on the move. cool.
7. I have found that my girlfriend definitely needs her 8 hours
8. The sun is amazing in the morning especially going into winter where it has a charming warming effect at 5am
9. The city is a lot more docile and actually seems like a pleasant place until 5.30am
10. Living in a house with 5 other people gives me first dibs on all that glorious hot water in our 1 and only bathroom.


I now also appreciate and get to watch an aw inspiring sunrise most mornings, which if you haven't done in awhile I truly suggest you wake your lazy asses up early, make yourself a coffee and watch the damn thing that keeps this world spinning.



Thanks Mr Cockatoo.