b3ta.com user mr locomotivator
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» Tales of the Unexplained

Old Hotel
I used to rent a room high up in an old Hotel, The Majestic, in St.Kilda, Victoria. I bumped into a bloke who was renting the old caretaker's rooms out the back, and being a muso, and him a lightshow fella, we got along famously, and he asked me to move in. The rooms were groovily painted, and the shower was always luke-warm. The cottage must have been over a century old.
Months later he was out of town, and I had been smoking some weed, and had fallen asleep on my bed. I awoke some hours later, lights still on, no-one home, being dragged off the bed by the right arm, by a very strong nothing! I was literally pulled across the bed until I fell "clump" onto the floor. Scared shit out of me.
Another time I was driving at dusk along the Lakes Way up near Forster, NSW, doing about 70 km/h, and an Aboriginal girl in a floral dress walked out of the scrub on the left hand side of the road, stopped, stared at me as I drove toward her, then vanished as I got within 20 metres of her.
Goose bumps all over.
(Fri 4th Jul 2008, 7:39, More)

» I Quit!

ahhh the sweet revenge...forcibly "quit"
I worked my cunt out for this furniture removalist, and was really good at it,so much so that I would tire the huge, stupid senior blokes out in about 1/2 an hour, then merrily carry on tramping shit while they took "smoko". Well, it was a year or so before I was promoted to "driver" and started running the jobs and driving the Semi-trailers myself, although, as I learned, top "offsiders" like I used to be, were very hard to get.
Now, the huge, stupid oxen that were senior to me started to become very jealous...and one afternoon in the yard, as we finished up, cleaning the truck, changing a tyre or two, Brutus took the call from the boss about next day's work, and then informed me that I wasn't required, and being a "casual" employee, that was fine by me, all the more pints at the pub that night..
Well, me being in demand, next morning the phone rang, it was some other mob "can you do a couple of pianos for $200?"
"Shit yes!", I reply, and off I go in the opposition's truck.
Soon, the phone was ringing again..."Hello"..I answered.
"Where are ya mate, the boys are waiting for you at so-and-so".
"What? Brutus told me there was no work today, so I'm doing a couple of pianos with so-and-so".
"You WHAT!? I told Brutus that we needed you at so-and-so, don't give me that! Brutus wouldn't lie! Don't bother coming in again until you've decided that you work for ME, you ungrateful bastard!"
So I thought, shit, if that's what you believe, you arsehole, so be it.
I grovelled for work for a week, doing process work in some factory for shite money, and applied for a few Semi driving jobs. On the Friday after my "sacking", the phone rang, and I'd scored a job driving the best, newest, shiniest truck in town, with about a ten-grand payrise to boot..
My delight at driving past the arsehole's depot, sounding my several-note air horns, cackling over the CB radio while the cretins slaved away getting fluff up their noses sweeping up shit while I swanned off in my lazy-assed tipper was fantastic.
(Wed 28th May 2008, 12:59, More)

» Housemates

Hellish house, girl and I moved into a terrace, Frank the gay artist lower front room, Phil the dealer next, Leon the fool upstairs, John (and Carol) the smackheads upper rear...we took the "loft"...a barn above an old garage out the back, replete with big barn doors at level 1 opening out onto the Main Street of Paddington...Sydney, this was.
Things went fine until John brought home some puppies...we took one, him another, and the place was soon covered in dogshit, fleas, worms, and as the place deteriorated, all the responsible ones moved out, leaving the shit to appear in ever-reducing spaces in the hall.
Phil fucked my girl, I went across the road to smoke hash with the neighbour who liked my band, for six months, while the remaining tenants were progressively evicted and busted.
Twas fun watching Phil carted off in a Paddy-Wagon, the girl had long since run off to service some other loser.
Ahhh, will always remember the bucket of hash, and the spoonful every morning before cards till lunch, then a massive feast, then more hash and cards, followed by a tape-listening session, then a jam, while the place across the road was gradually condemned as the squatters moved in.
(Mon 2nd Mar 2009, 10:41, More)

» Blood

oops! girl's bike!
When a lad I was at my mate's house, and I borrowed his sister's bike to ride up and down the cul-de-sac. Standing up on the pedals to get power, the hub gears went into neutral at the top of the power-stroke, and because there was no crossbar on the frame, as my foot shot down and backwards on the now-freewheeling pedal,my body fell downwards out of control and my right knee ground into the pavement, leaving most of its skin and tissue on the gravel, as I unceremoniously fell in a slithering heap with the bike on top of me.
I remember looking down at the damage and seeing white bone and connective tissue poking out from the 5 centimetre crater.
Weeks later, after quite a few days off school, (damn!) the scab had formed up nicely, I fell off my skateboard (that I wasn't supposed to ride on account of the knee) onto the same knee, wearing jeans. "Oh-oh, that can't be good" I thought, as i gingerly rolled up my jeans to see if the scab had survived. Nope, there it was, completely off its crater, loose in my jeans.
I was bloody scared of what mum would scream, so I gingerly went downstairs and promptly taped the scab back on, and pretended everything was rosy.
It healed up just fine! Wonders!
Now I can appreciate that I might have castrated myself had it been a boy's bike.
(Sun 10th Aug 2008, 7:56, More)