Cafe Culture

Aloof
Click Click

Aloof
Click Click

At cafe
Ask for coffee

Yes I'm cool
Are you talkin to mee?

Ah yes, um well
I'd like sugar

Mm ahh swoosh
Here's my haughty nose boogar

Ok thanks, that looks good
food

You want it huh?
That depends on mood

The setting's great
Coffee ain't bad

But the wait staff clique
I find quite sad

Click E E
Click E E

Cafe hair and cafe cool
Altogether bland to me.

Bits.

Mm Mm U-huh
Mm Mm U-huh
Stop.

I got bits in my teeth
I got bits on the floor

I got bits on the bits
Where no bits were before

Ha-ha-ha
I laugh at myself

But that bit about bits
Yo it's serious bitch.

I can't help but think
This is F-O-T-C

But the thing about that
Is they're them and not me

Who's me? Why's me
Is that bits that I see?

The bits on my arm
Bits on my TV

Now stop.
It's time for new vocabdury

So I break it down like this
Yeah it's way OTP

A-wiggedee wiggidee wee
A-wakka vonTrapp

A-chitty chitty bang
A-bitty bitty slap!!!

Ho-ho-ho no he didn't?!
Yeah it's a fact

He wrote about bits
Yeah he made it a rap!

Toasty Armenians

Toasty Armenian bread...
...that's not even toasted
Pressure cooked loaves...
...that aren't even cooked
They're just pressure loaves.

Roasted parma ham...
...that I call proscweeto
Dried beer grass...
...that was fresh on my wedding day
And is now dangerous like cutty grass.

Paul Newman Mayonnaise...
...that's now without its master
It could be Paul Mayonnaise and I'd still eat it
Still consume it straight from the bottle
Coz that's how Datt rolls.

Michael Jackson

Ode to Michael

Oh Michael
You man-boy you
With your man-boy love
And your man-boy voice

I share your white pain
Only my vitiligo doesn't hurt
And as long as I don't tan
I'm ok

Somebody should have handed you a mirror
You needed to take a look at yourself
It might have told you
Poor boy you're bound to die

But we are all bound to die Michael
Eventually
Neverland never was forever
You simply purchased too much antique shit

When I was a little boy you would have liked me
I made up a finger game
When I pulled my friends little finger
They went 'Ow', just like you

I also wrote a play
It was called, The Rock and Roll Band*
I starred as you and sang Beat It
Huh... I've never been as in to you as I was then

I just had a little puke
But don't take it the wrong way
You're still somebody's hero
Just not mine

At least,
Not anymore
Coz, well...
My heroes are alive

Mel Gibson and Optimus Prime are alive.



* The Rock and Roll Band
By Matthew

The characters in the play are:

Rokenrolli Nicholas
Tom Cruise Tom
Michael Jackson Matthew
Reader Alison
Jason Donovan Glen

Reader: One day Rock and Roll Band were practicing for their next concert that was in two days time.

Jason: That's enough.
Reader: Ring ring ring
Tom: Hey dudes, wow.
Roken: Hi dude. Wow. Guys we're going to Hollywood.
Reader: They went to Dunedin Airport in a limousine.
Tom: This is choice!
Reader: They stopped at the airport and got out.
Michael: Get our luggage.

Reader: They arrived at the airport at Hollywood. They got on stage.
Tom: Here is a song called Beat It

Michael sings Beat It: "Beat it, beat it. Get a car and beat it. It doesn't matter just as long as you're there so beat it, beat it, get a car and beat it yeah"

Reader: When they had finished they signed some autographs. They got in their limousine. They went to the hotel.

The End.

About a painting

Holy Glockenspiel
Crappenberg!

Fartily arty
Heartily absurd

I didn't did I
Doobeedoobeedoo

I gessoed all down the canvas
What did I do!?

Glocken Holyberg
Spiel and crap!

My mind my mind
It ain't coming back

Datt's not my name.

Here is a rap-battle between my former self - 6 year old Matt D and my current alter-ego 26 year old Datt M. Street-cred is on the line and it's up to you to decide who has game and who is lame (and will later be 'drive-byed').

Datt M is up:

Yo Yo
Wigger Wigger
Yo
I'm Datt
Yeah I'm so freakin Phatt (Mofos)

Don't mess with that
Coz you might go splatt!
(Wigger Wigger)

Who's that fool Matt
He's thick
Like his head hit a batt
Ye-yah.

And to this rises Matt D:

Matt is my name,
Scat is my game.

I am a cat,
I sat on a mat.

I eat fish
at the mat.

I play with bats
In the rat cave.

People pat me.


...it's now up to you. Vote or die.

Sorry Mr Anderson

The setting:
It's seventh form (the last year of highschool), English class and we are studying King Lear.

The teacher:
Mr Anderson, mild, hearing impaired and memorable (evidently).

The question:
"Matthew, how do you explain The Fool's final line, 'And I'll to bed at noon'?"

The response:
"Mr Anderson, Bichon Frise. Glazed upon my window." And to this Mr Anderson nodded and said, "Yes that's good, does anyone have anything else to add?" To which Mr Anderson was met by a muffled silence (perhaps not unlike that which he heard when I spoke my response).

The apology:
Mr Anderson, I'm sorry. I mocked your hearing loss that day. Instead of a studious answer, I gave you my thoughts on a small breed of dog similar in appearance to, but larger than, the Maltese. I did so knowing that you would not hear me properly and with intention to cause laughter amongst the classroom at your expense. I apologise for this act of disrespect.

The poem:
Irrespective of my intentions that day, a landmark poem was created and here it is for you one more time (and this time with graphic).


Bichon Frise.
Glazed
Upon my Window.