WARNING: The University of Melbourne breadth requirements have made this blog unsuitable for children and anybody offended by gangsta rap
God I hate Muzak. Out of the various crimes against music that can be perpetrated, it’s up there with Top 40 and Christian death metal. It’s a great start to my mornings, the powers that be at Watsonia station deciding that piping Muzak through the PA is the way to go. The only thing worse than Muzak is Muzak versions of songs you know and love. I was treated to a particularly horrible rendition of Day Tripper today. Actually, the only kind of music that loses nothing by being Muzakified is U2, for obvious reasons.
After exercising/reading about neo-liberalism at the gym, I had lunch with Miko and her friend Holly. Well, by lunch I mean that I ate a delicious chicken and avacado panini, Miko had a free hot chocolate (get your 7th drink free!!) and Holly brought a pack of Shapes. And by that I mean that I ate most of the Shapes. For some reason, Miko and I were making piles of them at some point. I put them all in a pile and claimed that they represented a stratified capitalist society. She lined them all up in order. I do Arts, she does Engineering. Figures.
I then went to what I kept referring to as my “Hip Hop tute”. You can’t actually take Hip Hop as a subject, but you can study it in Popular Music. It’s a good thing. We listened to an 80s gangsta rap entitled Fuck The Police by a pleasant group of young gentlemen who go by the name of Niggaz [sic] With Attitude. Structurally, it consisted of a single bar repeated ad infinitum over which various attitude-possessing African-Americans expressed their anger at the police department. Well, apart from the chorus, in which the music changed and they just shouted “Fuck the police” over and over. We also watched the work of DJ Fly, who is the current world champion turntablist. He was pretty impressive. Like, wow (even if I couldn’t listen to it for more than a few minutes).
Before we went out for dinner, we noticed a butcher bird who kept sitting on our windowsills and looking in, examining the inside of our house with as much concentration as I think birds can muster. I called him Real Estate Bird because it seemed as if he would start talking at any time and ask us if we were interested in selling. (And here’s Real Estate Bird having a good swing on some of our creepers).
We went to Denn (where else?). Because I don’t think we’ve been to Denn since I started this blog, I should probably mention that it is the restaurant that my family goes out to 90% of the time. It’s on High St, near the Westgarth cinema, and is pretty nice. I had spring rolls… yum!
Of course, dinner wasn’t the end of it. Will you be having dessert? Of course not! We have plenty at home! (So back home we went). Plenty meant a plethora of icecream (not pictured), a lemon cake and a berry one. Today’s photo is Lena’s impression of Munch’s The Scream, just because it was the most amusing photo I took today (apart from ones of my grandmother that would result in my death should I upload them).