Saturday, October 24, 2009

On a couch

It's Saturday night. 
People are out. 
All over Australia they're out. 
People are meeting, forming friendships, relationships. 
People are fighting. People are dancing.
Drinking, drug taking, mistake making. 
They are the youth and they are alive. 

While his peers are out creating memories and reminding themselves that they are young and beautiful and alive, Alvin lies on a couch. Bad Saturday night television throws a lonely blue glow over his lounge room. 

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

100% Alvin

Alvin tried coke for the first time on Saturday night. He wasn't sure what to expect. He was told he would feel '100% Alvin'.

He says he felt nothing.

He claimed, 'The world isn't ready for 100% Alvin.'

He called me at 8AM, from what he thought was going to be a house-party, to tell me this story.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Alvin and Eric Bana

I was chatting to Alvin yesterday. Then for no real reason he brought up Eric Bana.

He said, 'How's Eric Bana?'

'What about him?' I replied.

He answered, 'He used to play like weird Australian characters ... and now he's super famous.'

Thought provoking stuff.

A Guy Called Who?

Alvin, that's who. His name is Alvin! 

Try and figure that one out, Allan's family. Go on, I dare youse.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Southern Cross Station

I just got off the phone to Alvin. He's at Southern Cross Station. Last time I saw him was at around 8.30 this morning. He was at a party dancing. Dancing his little life away.

He asked me if I could give him a lift back to the suburbs. He has a basketball game in an hour. This basketball game is a big deal apparently and he is in lots of trouble if he misses it.

I asked him what happened. "Oh man, I fell asleep on a couch and woke up at 3.30," he responds. "I am in so much trouble!"

I didn't want to give him a lift, I'm hungover too. Luckily for me I'm out of petrol and neither of us can afford any."Maybe I could get a cab home and get Mum to pay for it when I get there," he ponders. "Fuck!"

It's raining now. 

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Talking Black

I chatted to Alvin over facebook chat today. I asked him how he was going with the fairer sex up on the Gold Coast. 

He replied: Bitches be hatin' 

Then he revealed: I talk like I'm black now btw

I said: sweet

He said: Fo sho

I said: k I'm bailing

He said: peace out niggaz

This is how most of our facebook chats tend to go. We live pretty exciting lives.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

All Tough n Shit

I got a text message from Alvin the other night. It said, "Just got in a fight, tough man Alvin is out being all tough n shit." I can't remember if that's actually what it said, but it was something like that. 

Alvin isn't an aggressive guy, definitely not the fighting type at all but he is pretty large and sometimes you can see he has a bit of 'angry man' pent up in him. It was a surprise to read such a message so I called him and got the full story.

Alvin was in the Gold Coast - or on the Gold Coast, I'm not sure which, but he was one of them - for the uni games. He's a bench player for his uni's basketball team. His role in the team is to come off the bench and play aggressive defense, gettin all up in niggah's grills n shit. Other teams don't like it.

While everyone is meant to be there to seriously compete in sports and such, the real reason people go is to get drunk for five nights of the week. Alvin was out with his teammates enjoying the true purpose of the uni games when he was approached by an opponent from the morning's match. The guy was from a team of "douche-bags" as he put it but this guy was being nice, conversing like a nice guy would. After a while though Alvin realised that the guy wasn't being nice at all, he was pretending to be nice so as to perform an act of smart artistry. It is a classic maneuver in the smart arse's arsenal. Alvin, a keen smart arse himself, knows it well.

When Alvin became aware of it he walked away. The guy followed him. Alvin asked him to leave him alone. Instead of leaving him alone the guy complimented his haircut and put his hand on Alvin's head.

Alvin went upstairs. So did the guy. The guy complimented his hair again and touched it again.

Alvin told him that if he did it again, there would be trouble. Alvin wasn't referring to hair trouble either. 

The guy put his hand through Alvin's hair again. With a swing of the arm Alvin's fist cracked the guy's chin. The guy took a swing and cracked Alvin back. The bouncer took the other guy away.

Alvin sent a text message, answered a phone-call from me, then partied on.