Halloween or Thanksgiving?

Painting / By

I’m really trying to get into the Thanksgiving spirit this week, even though I live in Australia and we technically don’t have the holiday here. I’ve been trying to make the ultimate pumpkin spice latte, although I’ve never actually gotten to try a real one. I just figured I’d take some pumpkin, coffee beans and some spices and mix them all together. So far my experiments have been complete disasters, but I assume I just don’t have the balance right. I’ll get it eventually.

I know this might be a bit much, but I’m getting a professional painter close to Melbourne to come around so that he can paint my wall bright, pumpkin orange. Pumpkin is still a Thanksgiving thing, right? I have this deep association in my head between pumpkins and Thanksgiving, but I suppose pumpkins are a Halloween thing, aren’t they? I’ve always just assumed that Americans have this big pumpkin season that lasts for October and November, covering both big traditions. Pumpkins are like, the Thanksgiving thing, aren’t they?

Oh wait, I’m thinking of turkeys! Halloween has pumpkins, and Thanksgiving has turkeys. Well, this causes a bit of a problem for me. For starters, I don’t really want bright orange walls now. I’ll have to call the interior house painters and tell them to bring a different paint colour. But which one? And then I’ve got all these pumpkins to deal with. If I can’t think of something to do with them, my family is going to think I’m an idiot. Maybe I can incorporate pumpkin into a turkey dish? I’m not sure where I’m going to find a turkey on such short notice, but hopefully, I’ll manage. Yeah, I’ll just tell my family members that I had lots of pumpkin left over from Halloween. They’re going to believe that, right?

Hopefully, I can make this the best first Thanksgiving ever. It really means a lot to me, because I’ve decided that it does for some reason.

My Solo Project

Renovations / By

Hey all, it’s Robbie R here, back with a blog post for what seems like the first time in ages. I know it feels like forever since Concept Artists released new music which is odd for our fans. Usually, we pump out music like a writer who can write 100,000 words in one month. But we’ve needed some time to reset creatively. Unfortunately, the other band members aren’t quite ready to come off hiatus. That doesn’t mean we don’t have good news, though. In fact, I have something really exciting to announce today.

I’m releasing a solo project. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while, covering a topic that I personally am passionate about. The idea didn’t really capture the others. I think it’s because we previously wrote an album about conveyancing, which is kind of similar since this project involves songs about bathroom designers around Melbourne. It’s another house-related album, so I understand their argument.

‘Dude, Where’s My Bathroom?’ is inspired by a true story of love, heartbreak and betrayal. You will literally be weeping by the second song, and that’s a guarantee from me. How could you not want to rip your own heart out of your chest to stop the swelling pain there as you listen to the dark ballad of a man who trusted his best friend with his bathroom, only to find that it had been redesigned while he was on holiday? A true tragedy.

It gets worse, as Darren, the antagonist, leaves the bathroom renovation cost for Robert to cover. For a bathroom renovation he didn’t even want! From there, the story follows Robert as he tries to track down Darren and make him pay for the bathroom redesign. In Sea of Fire and Ice, Robert must cross the ocean to find his ex-best friend. There they have an epic battle in One for the Ages, which results in the demise of Darren.

That’s when Robert learns he was in Darren’s will, receiving all of his wealth, which he uses to restore his bathroom to its former glory.

You’re going to love it, but maybe don’t read this blog post if you want to avoid spoilers.

Lord Ignored

Careers / By

I don’t really want to be a lord, but everybody in my family expects it of me. Especially my father. He has been a king ever since he turned twenty and took the throne from his father, and he expects that any day now I will try to steal the throne from him. It’s the vicious cycle of our little kingdom but I don’t really want to follow in the footsteps of my ancestors.

Not many people realise that Melbourne still has a kingdom. We are in the north-east of the city, taking up the size of approximately one suburb. Most people here like to pretend that we are still living in the dark ages, but every once in a while somebody with a smartphone and an online blog (like myself) comes along and breaks the immersion. I don’t really understand why anybody would want to pretend they live in the darkest period of the world’s history, though. Father says I will understand when I am older, but I don’t think I will.

Oh, if only I could get career change advice near Melbourne and become something other than a noble, but I’m afraid that doesn’t really count as a career in the first place. Would I even qualify for career counselling? I doubt it.

All I want is to settle down with that peasant girl I’m hopelessly in love with, even though she will always see me as an entitled brat who contributes to the system of oppression she and her father live under (by choice, mind you). If I could just find a career counsellor within Melbourne who was willing to help me change, maybe Alice would notice me. If I could become a simple cobbler, butcher or blacksmith, would we have a chance of being together?

I doubt it. Once, I tried talking to Alice in the street, and she said that she would rather swallow a bucket of lard than hang out with anybody related to King Carrion II. That’s probably not a good sign.

Pieces of Atlantis

Boats / By

I had a strange dream last night. In it, I was standing on the edge of a cliff, an endless ocean before me. Dark clouds hung overhead, lightning cracking like repeated blows that lit the sky in white. My chest swelled at the beauty, gut sunk at the sheer force of the storms. Then I saw a boat crashing through the waves, so powerful it was like a titan had thrown a tantrum in the heart of the sea. The boat continued to fight the waves, pushing forward inch by inch.

Suddenly a bolt of brilliant lightning struck the ship, which was torn asunder by the waves and the wind. Then I was floating over the wreckage, the storm settling. Holy light filtered down from the heavens, over several parts of the boat. Snapper racks. Fishing rod holder. The bow rail. Bait board. Somehow, I knew them to be of great importance. I could feel it in my heart, swelling at the sight.

“Unite them,” called a voice from above. “Unite the lost pieces of the Atlantis. Start with snapper racks. Around Melbourne, you will find them.”

“Why me?” I asked the mysterious voice, still floating over the destroyed boat. “What do you need from me, o mighty voice?”

“You will be my humble servant on this world. I have chosen you to collect the lost pieces of the Atlantis and restore balance to the seas. Serve me, the Heart of the Deep, and you shall be rewarded.”

“I am but a simple tradesman of marine fabrication, mighty one. Why me?”

The voice boomed back, ringing my ears and shaking my bones. Louder than thunder. Louder than something even louder than thunder. Like an earthquake or something. “You appreciate the significance of the sea. You know boats. I had to choose someone. Why not you?”

“Fair point, I suppose.”

I woke up then, drenched in so much sweat that I almost thought I’d drowned in the ocean from my dream. When I looked down, beside my bed, I saw a checklist. Snapper rack. Fishing rod holder. Bow rail. Bait board.

– Gillan Neptune

 

Novel About Heating

Heating / By

I’ve been thinking about posting this for a while now, and I think I’ll finally do it. You see, in my spare time I’ve been writing a novel based on my real-life experience working as an air conditioning service technician. In this post, I’m going to include my query letter to literary agents, and I’d love to know what my loyal readers think. Alright, here it goes.

Jerry Sigman is a master of heating repairs. Canberra residents love him and his hard work, knowing him as the very best the Australian Capital Territory has to offer. His life is a happy one, without any issues, until the Cult of the Heater comes along. They want him to join their ranks, using heating systems to take over Australia, one house at a time. When Jerry refuses, the cult takes his favourite toolbox hostage. Jerry must then go on a quest to stop this nefarious cult from destroying his toolbox, while also stopping their evil plans. On the way, Jerry will fall in love and learn more about himself than he ever knew was possible. And of course, he’ll learn a thing or two about ducted heating services for Canberra homes, as well.

This novel is a true epic, with thirty-seven point of view characters over a hundred and fifty-two chapters. It could be compared to the works of Leon Toys and Steve McQueen, without the horror elements or the Russian settings. If this was to be turned into a film adaptation, I’d have someone named Chris who acted in the Marble Cinematic Universe play the lead role. I don’t mind which Chris it is. There’s a few who would be suitable.

If you’re interested in learning more about this novel, which has a word count of 50,000 words, feel free to get in touch with my people. While I have an extremely busy schedule, I should be able to make time to respond. Thanks for your time, and I look forward to working with you.

– Jack

Bandit and Frankie

Hardware / By

If we were going to stop Evil Space Wizard from taking over Victoria, we would need some supplies. That’s why Ms Frankie and I went on a secret mission to Cheltenham, to get some equipment for our battle against Space Wizard’s darker half. 

Meanwhile, the real Space Wizard and Archerak had some issues to move past. After Archerak liquified Space Wizard, the two have some real tension. I told them to work it out before we returned from our mission. 

Ms Frankie and I found a couple of bikes and began our ride to get building supplies. Near Cheltenham, we’d pick up a big bike basket to put the supplies in, which I found online. 

“How long have you been teaching primary school?” I asked to pass the time. Ms Frankie raised her eyebrows as if my question somehow surprised her. 

“I taught the year sixes for seven years,” she said, “and the year threes for only one semester. I hope we can beat this Evil Space Wizard soon. I’ve had enough of this nonsense and just want to get back to the classroom.”

“Why did you audition for Next Top Office in the first place, if you want to go back to teaching?”

“You ask a lot of questions, Bandit,” she said with a smirk. “I entered the competition so I could prove to my students that anything is possible. If a primary school teacher can design the best office in Victoria, then nothing should be able to hold them back in life. Let me ask you something in return. What are you going to do if the hardware store is closed?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I’m sure there’s a hardware store around Bentleigh we could go to. Why do you ask?”

“I think it’s interesting to see how people react when things don’t go to plan. Improvisation is a skill, you know? So I’m measuring you up. Seeing how important it is for you to stick to a plan. You could have instead told me that the shop was definitely open, so there’s no point in considering it. But you’re flexible. I like that.”

Interesting. What a strange woman.

Not Enjoying Football

Property / By

This season of the Australian Football Tournament (AFT) has been atrocious. First, they brought in all these rule changes, then they decided to take six weeks off “just because”. Is this sport being run by monkeys with hammers? No, sorry, that’s an insult to monkeys and hammers. The quality of the sport has literally never been worse.

I actually think it would be better if they replaced the professional athletes with people trained in providing a conveyancing service. St Kilda would definitely perform better if they got rid of all their players. I genuinely believe a conveyancing lawyer would have more skills than these professionally trained athletes. Even if they didn’t have the skill, I’m sure they’d care more about winning than the St Kilda Angels would. And don’t even get me started on good old the Lime Greens. They’ve been the worst of the bunch. For some reason, the AFT has decided to put their games on every Friday night, but it’s hardly watchable. It’s like they want to throw money away.

If you work in conveyancing for Carlton properties and know how to kick a ball more than ten metres in a straight line, then congratulations, we’ve got a new job opportunity for you! You can’t be worse than the literal potatoes they put on the field every Friday night. Heck, I could do a better job, and I broke my legs in a tragic skydiving accident six years ago.

Maybe I should follow a different sport instead. I hear that competitive sandwich eating is going pretty well at the moment. Underwater volleyball is always fun to watch, too. Then there’s professional submarine racing, which my friend thinks is the new Formula 7. There are a lot of other options, but I think I’ll stick with AFT, even though I kind of hate it. Won’t they just cancel the season already so I don’t have to watch it any more? This season doesn’t count anyway, because my least favourite team is probably going to win the big silver cup.

Double Door Luxury

Windows / By

Growing up, my family and I had very little money. We got by on the bare necessities and fortunately always had food on the table, but we definitely weren’t rich by any stretch of the imagination. This was fine and it was something we lived with, mostly because we didn’t know any different. The concept of disposable income was foreign to us, and when I was young I didn’t even know that people had money intended just for spending. 

I first realised that we were impoverished when I finished university and landed a well paying job. The job I was offered paid more than both my parents’ wages combined, and all of a sudden I had a massive influx of money that I didn’t know what to do with. I was still living frugally, as that was how I was brought up, but all of a sudden I didn’t need to be.

This realisation was fifteen years ago now, and since then my spending habits have changed. I am currently in the process of a new home build, and the window frame installation is happening tomorrow. Back in the day I never would have even dreamed of owning a home, let alone building one. But I’ve been beyond lucky and now I get to enjoy luxuries that I never would have imagined. 

Growing up, I was always told that double doors were a sign of money. I don’t know if that’s actually true, but we had a single, small door, so it’s certainly possible. For this house, I’ve chosen double doors, as a symbol of my wealth and my new life. It is time to call a door replacement service. Melbourne is a fantastic city and I am lucky to have grown up here, regardless of my family’s financial status. The financial status of my future family will be a lot different, but my children will still learn how to live frugal lives, although we will treat them to a few more luxuries than we had.

Broken City

Windows / By

I’ve been playing a video game lately that is highly destructive. It’s called Roads of Rouge, an indie game about a city that has come under the rule of a tyrannical mayor. You play as various anti-heroes, completing missions throughout randomly generated sections of the city and destroying everything in your path. It’s a lot of fun, but it does get me thinking about exactly how much damage is being done.

Sometimes you smash windows or break down doors, destroy fire hydrants for fun and knock over trash cans. It’s real mayhem, true pandamonium. But I do feel for the people of the city, who have to call for quick door replacement over and over again. Some people have steel doors, and they’re the clever ones because you can’t break them down. But it’s all for a good cause. Bringing down the mayor is far more important than in-tact doors and windows. Any city that uses chicken nuggets as a currency is in serious trouble.

It’s crazy how quickly the objects get repaired, though. The people must know where to get the best sash window replacement. Near Melbourne, windows are getting replaced all the time. I don’t know if it’s vandalism or people just getting tired of their old window frames, but it’s starting to freak me out. Still, it’s not anywhere near as bad as the video game, which I’m grateful for.

My favourite class in Roads of Rouge is the doctor, who can knock people out without using violence. It’s the most effective way to get through each level, except when you come across the mafia. They’re a persistent bunch, and chase you if you don’t hand over all your money. It’s hard to get behind and incapacitate them because the rest of their gang notices and starts to attack you. The jock is also fun, because they can run through walls and break them like they’re made of paper. I can’t even imagine the repair costs of that destruction.

Steel Beam Plot

Steel / By

All right, here’s how this post is going to go. Today I’m going to prove to you that a single family in Russia is actually controlling the world. You’ll be sceptical at first, but by the end of this three hundred and fifty-word spiel, I’ll have you convinced. Let’s do this.

Did you even know that Russia had such a family? Well, they do, and they’re running everything from the shadows. I realised it the other day while I was doing some errands for my boss at work. He needed me to go to the best Melbourne business for steel fabrication and grab an order. Obviously I did so, but as I was waiting for the order to be finished, I started reading a newspaper nearby. It said that the family in question was executing order sixty-seven. Now, I wasn’t sure what this ‘order sixty-seven’ was, but I didn’t like the sound of it. So once I had the steel for work, I got back in my truck and went to the office.

When I got there, I immediately wasted company time researching the number sixty-seven. And you know what I learned? I learned that sixty-seven is only one number off sixty-six. This might not seem like a big revelation, but does ‘order sixty-six’ sound familiar to you? It’s the same order number that Dark Palatine gave in the third Space Battles movie. The one that means the metal troopers need to betray their allies.

Now that’s a scary coincidence. Or is it a coincidence? I mean think about it. In that movie, Amikins tries to melt the metal troopers with jet fuel, but it doesn’t work. Do you know what else jet fuel can’t melt? That’s right: steel beams. Melbourne has plenty of steel fabricators, although I doubt they’re involved with this particular family. What I do think, however, is that the family is going to buy all the steel beams in Australia and use them to take over the world. Isn’t that a scary thought?

Okay, maybe this isn’t the most solid theory ever created, but you’ve got to admit, it’s worth thinking about. I’d encourage you to do your own research and come to a conclusion yourself. As long as it’s the same conclusion as mine, otherwise, you’re just a troll.