The Last Post

Cue the trumpet song that they used to play at school on Anzac Day. And just like when they played the Last Post at school, right now you're probably bored, don't really get what's happening but have an overwhelming sense that something significant is going on.

This is the last post of the Alvin blog.

Boy, it's been some ride huh. I mean, like, 2 and something years of a few posts about pretty much nothing. How will we live without it?

Today a friend came on FB chat and abused me for not updating Alvin's third person diary in three months. So I decided it was time, time to put an end to the misery that is the life of Alvin. Sure, he'll live on, but with his real name. And Alvin will be a thing of the past. Something that we'll look back on with a shrug of the shoulders and no feelings of sentimentality.

Alvin came on FB chat half an hour ago and we did an interview about the life of this thing, like it ever mattered. No editing, just lame FB chat. Enjoy, for the last time. - MJ

ME: Hey

wanna do an interview for Alvin

Alvin: yello

what you mean?

we'll talk on here

and then I'll post it on Alvin

umm

ok

what kind of questions

What are you doing now?

this wont be funny...

i'm sitting in a motel watching inbetweeners and 'chatting' on facebook

motel?

Where are you?

wangaratta

Can you remember when I started the Alvin blog>

hmm

i could probably check the first post and see it's relevance

but you don't remember when I told you I was going to do it?

no not really

Neither do I

You never really seemed to care

like it was no big deal

but it's pretty weird really

people write blogs about me all the time really

i'm used to it

You made me change the name though

this interview is over!

why?

you can't bring up the name change

that's like when people call me alvin, it ruins the point of the name change

I remember we used to go to parties and people would go, "Alvinnnnnnn!!!"

That was the best

exactly

if it becomes a nickname

it's pointless to change it

why'd you want the name to change anyway

for any incrimination from stories both factual and fictional

I think I might make this the last ever Alvin story by the way

fictional?

It was all true

not all of it

what wasn't true

i've never watched offspring, done drugs, played call of duty or slept in mens beds

ha

I never even told the best sleeping in a man's bed story

i don't know what you're talking about

hmm

I got distracted

tlaking to my housemate

and forgot what I was gonna ask

hey, do you think I should reveal who you are

considering this is the last post and all

"And revealing.... BRANDON DAVID"

everyone knows Brand David dreams of a life where he could have one story to tell

there is no way it could be him, not one humerous anecdote or adventure

Are there any stories that are your favourites?

from life or alvin?

one and the same really

i think the drawing of 'there was no girl' sums me up pretty well

it really does

are there any that make you cringe?

nah not really

i can't remember them all

My personal favourite was when you got bullied by your friends

and planned a revenge

but the problem was

you never did the revenge

i did shave my beard and keep the hair

i still have it...

i'm just waiting for the right type of revenge

how long have you had the hair?

has to be 2 years i reckon

it was a warm day when i got ditched

and it doesn't feel like last year

yeah

the blog has been running a long time

but I rarely posted stuff

sometimes I'd get inspired

and think, "Yeah, I'm gonna make Alvin famous... for his mediocrity." BUt then I'd always just forget about it

obviously i'm not busy enough

you don't do much

i do a bit

i just play the cards a bit closer to the vest these days

you could no longer trust me?

just saving them for the auto biography

well the idea was that I'd do this for the rest of your life

and document the whole thing

you'd never need to write an autobiography

it's your fault for moving interstate

are you disappointed it's ending

you could be missing the biggest money making opportunity of your life

why

cos i'm awesome, and the world must know my story.

The Alvin blog was a place for you to be real

none of this fake showyness

it's over now Alvin

bear your soul Alvin

no need to front with the jokes and the fake arrogance

what's behind the laughter Alvin

what exactly are you asking

Who is Alvin?

You know in deep interviews with celebrities they ask that

"Tell me, who is the real Tom Cruise?"

that's what I'm doing

yeh but if i was a celebrity, i'd be like, what a shit question

lazy journalism Negus

go back to looking smug and reporting the news in a 'i can't believe you n00bs don't already know what i'm saying' style

god i hate him

That's one thing I regret

what?

not showing your amazing ability to criticise people and things in an intelligent way

without ever doing anything yourself ever

other than you know, pwning noobs on Call of Duty

that's is what i do, the criticism itself

meh

I'm ending this interview for the same reason I'm ending the blog

I can't be bothered anymore and you're boring me

so... any last words?

you like Negus don't you?

I do

but I don't really know why

I just do

i used to

but i watched 6pm a couple of times

yeah I ain't seen it yet

he's seriously like

ah

you know

what i said before

k

you also hate Leunig

yup, i don't see why anyone would like him

I hate leunig cos his cartoons are meant to be intelligent and deep

but they are doodles with irrelevant words

anyway, last words?

These will be the last ever words on the Alvin blog, pick them wisely

that's too much pressure

Random Alvin Fact #2

Alvin's favourite fast food is Nando's.

We Are Nowhere and It's Now

It was Sunday night last night. All over Australia people in their early 20s were doing the same thing.

"What's that?" You ask.

"Homework?" You ask.

"Drugs and sex, and and and and life and creativity and all the brilliant things born to youth?" You ask.

No. Facebook-chat-in-front-of-bad-Sunday-night-television is what captivated Australia's future last night. Alvin was no exception.

"Four facebook chat windows open." Said Alvin over Facebook chat.

"And every one of them is talking about Offspring."

Offsping is an Australian show where an average white nurse, unlucky in love, looks for love. We watch it in droves and embrace the mediocrity put before us. A generation of this-will-do.

Well, Alvin had had enough.

"I'm going to go play Call of Duty and regain my penis." He said.

God bless Alvin, he may save our generation yet.

The Room Part 3

A beautiful girl was lying on my bed, naked. So awesome. As we lay there, I knew that she was, like, the one.

Eyes locked, her lip quivered, hesitant to break the silence but about to all the same. What was it she was going to say? "Like, I love you." "Like, we're perfect." "Like, you complete me." Definitely one of those. My life was about to change, like, forever.

A trashed Alvin crashed through the door. "Hellooooooo," he said as he fell to the floor.

She shrieked and scrambled to get under the sheets. The moment was gone, forever.

I told Alvin the story as I made dinner the next night. Still half asleep on my couch he replied, "What are you talking about? There was no girl."

Not anymore Alvin, not anymore.

The Room Part 2

Before Alvin moved into my old room, he lived out in the suburbs. In fact, because he is lazy and poor, he spends most of his time in the suburbs still - taking advantage of his parents' food and Playstation. But back when his room was my room, he used to crash at mine whenever we hit the city. Which was a lot.

He got pretty comfortable there. Sometimes he'd get home before me, let himself in through the unlocked window, and tuck himself into my bed. I'd come home at 5am to find him all tuckered out in my sheets with Hungry Jacks wrappers sprawled over his disgusting body.

I would have a decision to make then. A decision a tired, drunk, drug addled and sexually frustrated mind did not want to make. Jump in next to him or go and sleep on the couch.

I didn't always sleep on the couch. Those were some awkward mornings. Alvin never seemed to mind.

Changing Rooms

Remember that show - Changing Rooms - where with the help of a homosexual designer (who'd later go on to host Ready Steady Cook) two friends would redesign each other's rooms? Ya remember that?

Well when I moved to Sydney, I left a room in a crappy sharehouse vacant. Alvin took that room. So Alvin lives in my room. But now that he lives in it, it is no longer mine, no, it's his. Alvin lives in his room... which used to be mine. Umm, anyway...

I recently visited Melbourne for the first time since I moved to Sydney. I went to my old house and visited the room. Still taped to the window (albeit behind the curtain) were the little pictures of my ex girlfriend and me that I'd put up when we were together and never got round to pulling down after it all went to shit. The bed was the same. The curtain I'd made out of an old bedsheet was the same. The little pile of incense ash on the shelf was the same. Even the couch I moved in there for my going away party was still sitting in the corner.

The room hadn't changed at all. His room is not his room, it's my room. But if he's living in it, does that make him... me?

I looked into it further... his friends - all my old friends. His clothes - similar to my own. The places he hangs - my old hangs.

Alvin is living my old life. Even though I have left Melbourne, I still exist in that city. And My name? My name is Alvin.

This leaves one question: If Alvin is me, what has become of Alvin?

Stay tuned...

2 cities - a tale of no tales

I moved to Sydney. Alvin, unfortunately, still remains in Melbourne. This makes it hard for me to update his diary, but I will try anyway.

I just spoke to Alvin over Facebook chat. I had a problem.

"I need to go to the toilet, number twos, but I can't be bothered getting off the couch," I said.

"Is there a bag around?" he replied.

There wasn't, but still, his problem solving genius should be acknowledged. You may be surprised at his genius in this field but I wasn't. I'd seen it before.

Every year we go to the same music festival in the country. He packs a plastic bottle that is ample for urinating in while lying in his sleeping bag. He knows that he will drink enough that he won't be able to make it through a sleep without having to go to the toilet. He also knows that he will be too drunk and tired to get out of his sleeping bag, get into some shoes, unzip his tent, step out into the cold country night air, and find a discreet spot to urinate.

This happens to all of us at these festivals, yet we prepare not. Perhaps this is because we prefer not to sleep next to our own urine or perhaps it's because our meagre intellects are nothing like that of Alvin.

Alvin's foresight is that of a God. A lazy, disgusting God.