That's when good neighbours...

A couple of weeks ago I did a double-take when I noted that young Lance from Neighbours had turned up on a St George ad as a baby-kissing banker.

This weekend I did another double-take when young Lance sold me a ticket* at my local cinema. It's a long way from Ramsay Street to Oxford Street, but not necessarily a bad move if you ask me.

Lance was sure Toady said they were going to
the Coffee Shop for a hot beef selection

That said, the Neighbours page on the network website looks decidedly grown up. Perhaps I'll have to pick up where I left off as a tweenager and start watching again.

* In case you were wondering, I finally saw The Lives of Others. It was wonderful.

About time

Having been implemented years ago in California, Ireland and from what I'm told, Italy, all I can say it that it's about bloody time smoking was banned in pubs in Melbourne and Sydney. I don't know why it's taken so long.

As for the Sydney publican's comment that 18 year olds won't know what they're missing, my second response (after "Idiot!") is that I couldn't be happier that our youngsters won't know the joys of passive smoking/lung cancer/etc. That said, this fellow does later redeem himself by mentioning that he's started a Quitter's Club in his pub.

Best.News.Ever.

This has just made my day.



UPDATE: It gets even better. They're coming HERE!

I'm a rockslut!

In a move somewhat (very) out of character, on Saturday night I attended a Guns n’ Roses concert. I do like the rock n’ roll music, but I’m not generally what you may consider a rockslut. I prefer pub gigs to stadium spectaculars, independent Aussie acts to worldwide superstars.

That said, I’m a fan of the nostalgia. The Gunners were big in the late 80s, and their music reminds me of my late-primary school years. Other big-haired rockers also take me back to this time – Poison, Bon Jovi, Warrant. Back then I had a friend who was keen on harder music – her black pencil case was covered with band names like AC/DC, Black Sabbath and the Gunners, of course. My pencil case was more likely to be scrawled with Bros, INXS and NKOTB.

So when I was given a ticket to the Gunners concert, I was a bit indifferent. I suppose I was a little excited, in an ironic kind of way. And really, it’s hardly the ‘Gunners’ anymore. Axl Rose is the last man standing. The original band has been replaced with a seven-piece outfit (creative differences, anyone?), although they’re still all long hair and guitar solos. Axl too, has changed. No longer the whippet-like frontman in white bike shorts, he now more closely resembles Meatloaf.


The Gunners haven’t released an album for years. Their as yet unreleased Chinese Democracy album gave the theme for this series of shows, with huge banners of Chinese characters framing the stage. Why Chinese Democracy? Since when have the Gunners been political? Is Axl doing a Bono? I doubt it.

The gig itself was littered with all their classics from the late 80s. The crowd loved these tracks, lapping it up. But unfortunately there was also a fair share of duds, tracks we’d never heard before (from the new album, perhaps?). There were also guitar and piano solos every three or four tracks, mostly to give the frontman a break. This added to the length of the show, which hadn’t started till after midnight as it was. Suffice to say I was a tired little rockslut on the way home.

There goes the weekend

I haven't watched The West Wing for over 12 mths. I have all episodes on dvd and I have only completed viewing the first three series. What is wrong with me?


I used to be a regular viewer. Every couple of weeks my flatmates and a few friends would get together, cook up a storm, and watch a few eps. It was great, a chance to catch up over some gourmet food and then sit in silence, and awe, to appreciate some of the finest scripting around. My West Winging friends, writers all of them, loved the show as much as I and we would argue at the end of each episode whether we could squeeze another in.

Back then, The West Wing was buried in increasingly bizarre and changable timeslots on late night tv here in Australia. It has now moved to our national broadcaster, where the program has a regular, primetime slot. This is great news for tv viewers. Me, I prefer dvd. No ads, and I can watch it at my leisure.

However my 'leisure' is ever diminishing. I have a lot of stuff on. It's one of those facts of life; growing up, working, spending time with friends and loved ones. For me these things naturally take precedence over tv. While living overseas for a while I could watch a couple of episodes each night. I could squeeze it in given the lack of programming in my native language - and my lack of much of a social life. But back home I get distracted. It doesn't help that the Significant Other has yet to be converted. She doesn't like tv much. But I know she'd like The West Wing if only she'd give it a chance. Just like The L Word, which she didn't want to watch either. She's funny like that.

To be honest, I'm a bit of a commitment-phobe. Twenty-two episodes, to me, is a big commitment and I have trouble making the time to regularly keep up. I certainly couldn't commit if I had to watch it in the old-school, broadcast way. No chance.

Anyway, today I took a day off work, a Mental Health Day. My emotional wellbeing has been strained by an unsupportive work environment over the past few days and I decided that a day off was just what I needed. So I have elected to use my time wisely and get back into The West Wing. I dusted of series 4 and upon viewing episode 1 it's all come back to me. What was I thinking, shelving it for so long? God I love this show. The writing is superb. The characters are intelligent and witty. I want to work with them. I want to BE them. I want these people to really be the leaders of the self proclaimed free world. If only it weren't fiction.

So now I'm trying to figure out a way that I can be professionally unemployed. I want to be able to stay home and finish watching the next 80-odd episodes of The West Wing and still get paid. There must be a way. I bet CJ could figure it out.

Go on...

Ask me. How good is this?

Image by Dorothy Surrenders

Very, very good.

Well done AfterEllen.

iWant

I so want one of these little babies.

Pink Pigeons

I like the sound of Pink Pigeons. Sounds a bit gay.

Age Shall Not Weary Them

I arrived home last night, just after 6.30pm, to find my 80 year-old neighbour from upstairs loitering on the front stoop of our building with one of her friends. As I got nearer I could see that my neighbour was struggling with the lock as her friend, of a similar vintage, sat on the step with her head in her hands. They were giggling and stumbling and I quickly realised that they were pissed.

As farts.

As I helped them inside I was assaulted figuratively by the smell of liquor and literally by my elderly neighbour, a great grandmother, who took it upon herself to slap me around simply because I had the nerve to accuse her of being a boozehag. When I inquired as to what the lovely ladies had been up to I was told "We've been out to lunch!". Naturally I commented on the length of the lunch (it was after 6.30... in the evening!), to which my neighbour responded "It was a nice lunch." Must have been. I hope I'm having as much fun when I'm 80.

Jesus Ate My Parma

One of the peculiarities about Sydney is its lack of appreciation for the Chicken Parma. As any Melburnian will tell you, a chicken parma (that's a parmagiana for you stuffy formal types) is a chicken schnitzel slathered in a napoli-style tomato sauce and melted cheese. Fancy parma-pubs will dazzle with the addition of a slice of ham. A parma traditionally comes with a serve of chips and salad.

A Fancy Parma - includes the addition of fetta

South of the border the parma is a pub standard, a classic across the board. Every Melbourne pub worth its drip tray will have a chicken parma on the menu, and people will flock from miles for a good one (ref www.superparma.com). Many pubs will do a $10 parma and a pot (beer) deal one night of the week - an egalitarian meal for all!

So what is it with Sydney? Since re-locating north I have had incredible difficulty finding a decent parma. Most pubs will have a chicken schnitzel on the menu, many will also have schnitzel with mushrooms and/or gravy. But no cheesy, tomato-ey goodness. One time upon ordering a parma in a cafe on Oxford St, I was so disappointed when placed in front of me was a piece of grilled chicken covered in some diced tomato and a sprinkling of grated parmesan. What is wrong with these people? It makes no sense.

So why the dearth of parma in Sydney? The only possible rationale is the typical Sydney obsession with the body beautiful. Sydney is a physically beautiful city. It is blessed with a gorgeous harbour, stunning beaches and magnificent weather. Its residents like to cavort and prance for one another, often barely covering their pink bits. Perhaps because of this the typical Sydneysider appears to have an unhealthy obsession with their appearance. Not only is a parma deep-fried, but it's crumbed (CARBS!!) and slathered in cheese. One parma would mean a week of penitence - carrot sticks and 10k runs.

Up until yesterday I still held out hope. I have wandered past the Catholic Club, in the city, a number of times, eyeing off its menu board which proudly boasts a chicken parma. Thank God for the Catholics!

Yesterday some colleagues and I decided we’d give it a shot. Being a good Catholic I was ushered right in, whilst my colleagues were detained and questioned (what is it with having to sign in to clubs in NSW? You sign a piece of paper and then take it with you – they don’t even keep your details. Makes NO SENSE people!).

As an aside, the colleagues mistakenly headed up the stairs rather than down towards the club/restaurant – they were swiftly intercepted and sent on their way. Apparently God lives up there and was not to be disturbed during his lunch hour.

Finally inside the confines of the Catholic Club, we discovered that the place was full of old age pensioners who openly stared at our brazen youth and lack of reverence for their religion. Forgive us father, for we have sinned. I ordered my parma – assuming that God was finally smiling on me. I was excited. A parma was coming my way!

Then the order arrived. A schnitzel. No cheese. No tomato. A plain, dry, BORING schnitz. I was told they “ran out of parmas five minutes ago”. How do you run out of parma? All it requires is the addition of cheese and tomato sauce. How hard is it? And why, exactly, did I see an (obviously Catholic) senior citizen wander by five minutes later WITH A PARMA?!

God must know my secrets.

I think this might be my favourite news story, ever

Japanese fooled in poodle scam

Alarming News

What, he really has one?

(get the full story here, if you actually care)

F*ck The Pain Away

I went to a Peaches gig last night. I'd never seen her live before, and I was not disappointed. It was a guitar-tossing, bra-waving, drumstick-twirling, nipple-squirting, arm-wrestling, slam-dancing, knicker-dropping (4 pairs IN ONE TRACK!), glam-rocking, crowd-surfing, ass-kicking night of funness.

Peaches looks like the result of a dirty night of lovin’ between a 70s wrestler and a Vegas stripper – she’s all silver hotpants, hot pink capes and sequinned brassieres. Her band, Herms (an abbreviation of Hermaphrodites, obviously) were also hilarious especially the two boyish guitar/keys who seemed to be at their frontwoman’s beck and call when it came to all sorts of hijinks (80s glam makeup/patty cake/push ups/slam dancing/arm wrestling/dry humping etc).

There are some pics here.

Opening act Macromantics was pretty damn hot too.

Good Things Come To Good People...

... And Alcohol Comes To Alcoholics.

A friend/former colleague/object of lust moved overseas last week, and in packing up all her worldy possessions told me thus: "I have some leftover alcohol and for some reason I thought of you." I'm not sure what she meant by that, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

The Absinth & Cointreau have yet to be opened, the other two are half-full. Unfortunately I can't drink Black Sambuca due to a late-90s incident, however I'm sure it won't go to waste given my circle of acquaintences.

Inane Song Lyrics (First in a Series) (Maybe)

I heard a song yesterday of which the lyrics were just plain silly. It brought to mind a number of other songs which include silly lyrics.

Intergalactic (Beastie Boys)

The Beasties go cannibal...

"If you try to knock me you'll get mocked
I'll stir fry you in my wok"

GirlBoy (Magic Dirt)

Lunchtime snack rules the world!...

"Makes me feel cool when I'm in control
Of the power you dish out like a salad roll"

(this line is preceded by “Makes me feel cool when I say your name, Especially now when I masturbate”)


On The Radio (Regina Spektor)

She rhymes Bees! With Knees! Original!...

"A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again"

There are, of course, many, many others. Serial offenders include the likes of Gwen Stefani, Shakira et al. This may just become a regular series. If, indeed, this becomes a regular blog.

Spice Up My Life

This weekend I had the pleasure of watching Spiceworld - the Spice Girl's Movie. I first saw the film a number of years ago with my young (female) cousins who knew all the words to the entire film, soundtrack and all the dancemoves. The next time I saw the film was at a girly sleepover movie night when we watched other girly classics like Dirty Dancing and Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. It had been a number of years since I'd viewed Spiceworld, and I'd almost forgotten just how good it is.

Before seeing their film I wasn't a fan of the Spice Girls . I thought they were the worst example of a contemptuous music industry grinding out manufactured nonsense for what they thought the market would consume. I first watched the movie against my will, when it was the only way to keep my young cousins quiet one night when I was babysitting them. The antics of these young girls, singing and dancing along to the ridiculous movie won me over.

Spiceworld really is a ridiculous movie, and it changed my opinon of the Spice Girls. The film is a pisstake, a parody of the highest degree with the Girls mercilessly taking the piss out of themselves, their music, their industry, their peers, the film trade, and their lives in general. Essentially the film covers a few days in the lives of the Spice Girls at the height of their fame, with the Girls playing themselves and thus perhaps not having to act too much. Victoria Beckham, aka Posh Spice, does a particularly good job of taking the piss out of her character. There are A-list cameos from the likes of Elton John, Roger Moore, Jennifer Saunders, Bob Geldof, Meatloaf and Barry Humphries and apparently much of the film was ad-libbed. It is camp, it is silly and it is so nice to see performers who don't take themselves or their careers too seriously.

Spiceworld was produced nearly ten years ago but thanks to the ridiculous costumes and the soundtrack (like it or not many Spice Girls tracks are now considered pop classics) the film has aged particularly well. It was also interesting to note that Scary Spice (Mel B) is totally HOT! How did I not notice this before?? All in all Spiceworld is a top film - funny, silly and surprisingly entertaining.

Spam

I am not a fan of Spam (either kind) and will usually go to great* lengths to avoid it. However this little gem arrived last week which just couldn't go unnoticed...

----- Original Message -----
From: Jean
Sent: Thursday, April 27, 2006 8:29 PM
Subject: Quicker Recharges

Hello!

I am ready to kill myself and eat my dog, if medicine prices here (http://dodgywebaddress.com**) are bad.

Look, the site and call me 1-800 if its wrong..
My dog and I are still alive :)

Gold, no?

* or, you know, regular lengths.

** not a real web address, so don't bother

Sam Newman is a Knob

Last night I had the displeasure of catching about twenty minutes of The Footy Show (AFL version). I have watched this show sporadically in the past but hadn't seen it for a few years and this of course was my first experience of the new Eddie-less incarnation. I can't say I particularly like new hosts Gary Lyon or John Thwaites James Brayshaw but it's that tool Sam Newman who really gets my goat*.

It's common knowledge that Sam Newman is a tosser but I found watching him last night to be so totally and utterly offensive that I would liked to have hurt him. I am not a violent person but I wouldn't mind giving him a smack in the kisser. Within ninety seconds he had managed to demean gays (three times), the mentally disabled, women and the entire population of Sydney. His sleazy, dirty old man act is just plain creepy and he doesn't seem to realise just how pathetic he is.

I rarely let such trivialities offend me but the degree of this man's homophobia, sexism and general stupidity has hit a nerve. I cannot believe that Channel Nine allows this sort of behaviour from its 'personalities' and I can't believe the stupidity of the Australian viewing public for allowing him to get away with it for so long. I guess appealing to the lowest common denominator really does pay.

Would someone please punch him in the nutsack. Now. Ta.




* I don't really have a goat but if I did I wouldn't be letting Sam bloody Newman anywhere near it.

Home is where the Shelter Shed is

I'm back.

Look at you now! My how you've grown! etc etc

A lady never offers excuses and neither shall I.

So did you miss me?

...Yeah, thought so...

Things That Suck, etc.

I have just returned from a week in Canberra. To celebrate my return from the Nation's Capithole I have devised a list of 'Things That Suck (Today)':

• I am at work
• My girlfriend is at the pub
• She is using her mobile phone to send me photos of beer
  Sweet Sweet Beer
• Soon we are will have to separate for six months
  Yo that's right! SIX MONTHS!

That is all. For now.