Hub Bads33d

Two turntables and a microphone

2010-09-07T20:05:00.002+10:00

I've got this idea for a show.

It would be a drag cabaret show. I even have a potential host.

The two drag queens would play sisters - the Idas of Marchmont. They're two snooty Roman Catholic 'women' with a murderous streak and penchant for musicals.

Think every evil-character's theme from every musical: Mrs Lovett having a little priest, Cruella de Vil, Lucy Harris bringing on the men. Then add in the madness of Brideshead - arch plots to control the men in the audience, fey sons, messed up daughters, absent husbands... it would all be madness.

I've even managed to get a hostess for the night: Cruella de Rohan.

New layout

2010-04-05T11:53:00.002+10:00

I've hated the old layout for ages, but never really got down to fixing it until now.

Prettier and much easier to read, no?

Dreamscape: The Wall

2010-04-04T18:08:00.003+10:00

There is this wall. I don't know if it's the front of a container, or a large door or something, but it's painted yellow. Not any old yellow, but the kind they use for road signs: bright yellow.It's clearly there to protect the material from oxidisation, but it's not doing its job; there are sheets of paint coming off to reveal rusted metal underneath. Beautiful patterns formed by the peeling paint: hordes of elephants, people; a circus of events, moments, all revealed if you squint.

A man stands in front of the peeling wall. He's the guy from a million movies who you know will offer you the deal of a lifetime if you let him speak. But he doesn't.

Opposition is the first option

2009-12-16T21:41:00.005+11:00

This post has been floating in my head a while now.
A few weeks ago, the Australian Federal Government Senate Legal and Constitutional Affairs Legislation Committee published its report into the Marriage Equality Amendment Bill 2009. To put this into perspective for overseas visitors to my blog, Australia has the dubious 'honour' of being one of the few (the only?) developed countries who have constitutionally defined marriage as being between a man and a woman, so the commission's recommendations - that the government review relationship arrangements so that impediments to recognition of same-sex couples are removed, but that a bill allowing same-sex marriages be knocked back - is no huge surprise.
Go a few pages into the report and the submission figures are startling. 11,000 submissions from individuals and organisations for same-sex marraige. Opposition to same-sex marriage, however, numbered 17,000 - about 1 1/2 times to the affirmative submissions. Ever since I read that section, I've been haunted by these figures.

Let me start by stating that I have not read the report in full. This post is not about the contents of the report. It is about how opposition is the easiest option - but it comes at too great a cost.

Opposition is something that has been dominating the political landscape recently, particularly here in Sydney. On a global level, opposition to the concept of anthropogenic climate change has led to scientific espionage and the creation of a series of scandals in the lead-up to climate change talks in Copenhagen. In the last month, opposition to an Emission Trading Scheme within the federal Liberal party has cost the scalp of the (moderate) Opposition leader, to be replaced with a more combative, oppositional leader. In Sydney, the premier of New South Wales found himself replaced following his attempts to defang a group of power-brokers within his own party.
Don't get me wrong: fighting for something is often necessary. When all you do is fight against other things, though, it's easy to forget the overall plan and drag others down with you in the process.

Let's bring this down to more personal level. The work I do as a producer involves a lot of risk analysis. My job is to anticipate potential roadblocks and issues, and develop strategies to mitigate them so that the projects I'm working on come to fruition. A lot of the time, I end up sounding like a Cassandra, warning people that if this doesn't happen, the world will come crashing down.
Doing this work comes at a cost. It's very easy to get bogged down in the negative all the time. It's mentally and emotionally exhaustive; there are many times I get home too tired to move.
To get out of it, I find myself often having to focus on the future, looking to better outcomes and staying my eye on positive scenarios. My out-of-work life can sometimes consist of only focusing on the good - looking for the best in everything as it is far too easy to stumble on the negative. This aspect is gratifying; I get to really appreciate the best in everything, to celebrate the wins. Especially others' wins - that can be really inspiring.

The price you pay for focusing on the negative is great. A friendly disposition can draw people in, but a sour outlook tends to push people away.
I make no preference that I always succeed at being positive. I can come across as intensely introspective. My perceived lack of quality personal time tends to leave me without the necessary reserve of genuine interest in others' lives. I would definitely love to be there more often for my friends and lovers (well, when lovers come along).
Worse than that, spending time with negative people becomes a game of diplomacy. I've noticed, for example, that often those people I know who are going through a difficult period and especially for those who constantly focus on their difficulties, there is this habit of knocking down the positives in others' lives. Spending time with them becomes a battle - when their attention turns to you, everything positive you strive for is criticised, all the good things you talk about are deconstructed to illustrate fault or depicted as personal losses.
It becomes a chore to be around these people. Even when they find something positive, you find yourself biting your tongue lest they turn on you for "not doing enough" or your "inability" to achieve as much as they do. You start to wonder why you would want to spend time with them. After a while, rather than wanting to help them, you start to feel sad or exhausted at the very thought of this negative force in your life.

So it is with these opposition forces at large. Spending too much time dealing with groups who would do anything to maintain a status quo that is too selfish, or "works" at the expense of others' misfortune ultimately comes at your own peril - and their own.
Striving for constructive solutions (such as creating a healthier, cooler world, or elevating a group of people from second-class status) is infinitely preferable to holding onto obstructive ones, even though it may be easier to oppose things in the meantime.

The boyfriend you don't have when you have a boyfriend

2009-08-24T00:09:00.005+10:00

I've been seeing someone for a little while. He's a great guy, very interesting, incredibly sexy, etc.

The thing is, I haven't seen much of him for about 6 weeks now. It got so bad that I started preparing myself for the breakup the other day. I spent yesterday arvo having conversations with different friends discussing whether I should even bother seeing him any more, whether he was distancing himself or just politely saying he's not interested etc.

So I went to dinner with him tonight expecting the whole dumping thing. It turns out it's none of the above. He is interested; he's just honestly busy. He has a lot of study on his plate at the moment, which means he's pretty much unable to see me more than once a week for the next few months.

The weird thing is that up until recently, that would be a dealbreaker. Nowadays, I'm not so sure. I mean, I'm busy all the time, too. I also have a lot of people around who I love, and I'm not exactly the type of person who absorbs himself completely in the guy he's seeing. So yeah, maybe having a part time lover is not ideal, but it means I can enjoy getting to know him better in between everything else. It also means I get time to myself while appreciating the time we have together. Win-win, I guess.

À bas la Victoriana

2009-05-15T10:38:00.002+10:00

A week ago I threw away the last of my Victorianness. Yes, I switched
my driver's license over to NSW.

And I don't feel anything.

I think it's pretty much guaranteed that every Melburnian I know will
be hating on me right about now.

It's such a Perfect Day

2009-02-22T22:44:00.002+11:00

I went into this weekend with a touch of trepidation.

The thing is, I've had this thing about combining my personal life with my professional. Call it a concern about mixing business with pleasure.

We can all relate to it on some level. A good friend's boyfriend, for example, remains closeted to keep up within his somewhat overly heteronormative company. Another friend is very specific about separating his work friends from his personal friends, for fear of having details of his social life jeopardise his career chances. For me, it's a little strange, in that I wouldn't have got the break in my industry without a lot of help from friends. I'm still not sure whether that was necessarily a good thing.

Then again, the last job I had, I got on my own steam. That didn't work out particularly well - even if I did get to work with some amazing people, some of whom I now consider friends.

You can imagine the concern I had when invited to a birthday party Saturday. The birthday boy is someone I have a lot of respect for on a professional level, but who is also implicated in my friendship circles. The thought of having friends and colleagues in the same room was a little disconcerting.

Add to that the gin hangover I woke up to on Saturday morning (unexpectedly large dinner party with a good friend the night before), I was nervous enough to take my housemate with me to the birthday drinks.

What a difference a day makes. The party turned out to be really enjoyable. The people there were fun, and even the strange situation of having a colleague (and current housemate of an ex of mine) take a liking to my housemate didn't ruin my happy mood.

In the middle of the party, I received an invite to join some friends at the opera house that evening to see Alan Cumming. The housemate and I jumped on it.

Quick costume change later, we headed over to the studio for our little cabaret experience. Imagine my delight when I found out it was a showcase hosted by none other than Justin Bond.

I'd had a conversation the night before with a friend, saying how I've been hanging to see Bond, but my schedule wouldn't allow it. I've been a big fan since seeing him in Shortbus (a personal favourite).

To see such an amazing show was great. To have Justin, Alan, Trevor Ashley and Mark Trevorrow was heaven. Ashley's reimagining of 'I've never been to me' was hilarious, as were Bond's and Cumming's anecdotes. Cumming brought on a couple extra guests, one of whom (David somethingorother from New York) drew tears - his performance was beautiful, especially the introduction where he talked about fulfilling one of his dreams by performing at the Opera House that night.

Having decided that I was definitely in love with Justin Bond and Alan Cumming, I was completely blown away when Justin introduced his final guest: Miaow Miaow. I've had this goal of seeing MM since I first heard about her a few years ago. I almost don't want to mention it, because I can't convey the truly anarchic joy of seeing her live.

By the time we left the Studio, I was highly energised, in a way I haven't been for a very long time (at least a year). It was time to hit the town.

We decided to go to Slide for a couple drinks. The thing is, I wasn't in a chatty mood, and the music was fun, and so I ended up dancing a lot of the time. All of a sudden, I felt a hand in my back pocket. It belonged to a cute blond, who winked and walked away.

Turns out, he'd stuck a note in there:

You are with your friends. I'm with my friends. ;)
My name's Y. Call me 04xx-xxx-xxx.
:) xx

I laughed, then kept dancing. I'm not the sort to not consider notes like that suspicious, no matter how flattering the sentiment. After all, who knows how many others got the same note that night. Still, doesn't mean I'm not going to message him tomorrow.

I've been listening to Does it Offend You, Yeah's Let's Make Out lot lately. It's my little running joke to occasionally tweet some of the lyrics.

In fact, the number of verbal games I've been playing has increased recently. My housemate and I spent the weekend running around describing things using Dee Lite lyrics. The conversation would go like this:

- Oh, it was lovely and delicious
- Bubblicious?
- No. Just lovely. And delicious.
- Pernicious?
- Not vicious. Or Malicious. Just lovely. And delicious.
- Lovelicious?
- (mock anger) Just. Lovely. Delicious.
...etc

One of my favourite vloggers commented on my OC v GG blog today. LittleBiggerChris has been someone I've followed for two or so years, having found out about his relationship with NickasArbata through a Queerty article. I have a lot of love for this warm, friendly guy and his choice to document his life so openly. Plus, it's nice to know that little NY-SYD connections seem to have permeated the whole weekend (I may mention that my dinner guest on Friday was a friend who grew up in New York City).

So, playful weekend. Lots of love and laughter, and even some flirting. It's been a while - nice to know it's still possible. xoxo.

Augmented, Not-so-Reality challenge

2009-02-11T09:19:00.004+11:00

Right. I want to play a game.

I'm constantly playing games with friends. We'll come up with some random phrase or concept, and run with it.

The concept that's been grabbing me the last few weeks is augmented reality. Look it up, if you haven't heard of it. There was a presentation at TED this year on augmented reality using pretty much off-the-shelf gear that ended up with a standing ovation.

But what about augmented fiction? Say, getting into a story by experiencing it in some form, with web enabled devices to build up the character you're inhabiting. Somewhere between acting, producing and writing a fictional piece. Using several (traditional and newer) media. Photography, writing, film, websites, social media - you don't just consume a fictional piece as much as inhabit it.

Or even better: consume, inhabit AND create it. What if you were author, actor and reader at the same time. What if it wasn't just you that was part of the story? Even better - what if there were several players creating the story together in different parts of the (virtual and IRL) world?

Let's get this in perspective - this isn't something where you're playing/consuming/augmenting your 'own' life. You're playing and writing out a fiction, one that could be based around your life, but more than that. The story incorporates all sorts of media, and incorporates realtime and static elements.

The only question to get going is, Who Else Wants To Play?

Overheard in Newtown

2009-02-07T13:23:00.001+11:00

"...well, it was going to take ten years, so I forgave him."

Chim Chiminy... Chim Chim, Uzi

2008-11-13T10:26:00.003+11:00

This goes in the 'so wrong' basket.

Yes, I'm aware this is the sort of thing that should go on a site like Regret the Error, but The Australian really did screw up with this headline typo. It's not bad enough that there's another case of cultural insensitivity on the part of American soldiers + heightened sensitivity on the part of Iraqis, the newspaper has to screw up the headline.

Now I'm going to have visions of psychotic chimney sweeps stuck in my head. Mary Poppins better watch her back.

[The Australian: Slapped Iraqi soldier soots dead two US troops]

Yes they can!

2008-10-10T15:21:00.004+11:00

[ICanHasCheezburger]

calm

2008-10-08T23:28:00.003+11:00

I started writing an entry a few weeks ago, in which I explained that I felt like I was at sea.

I'm starting to realise I've been at sea for a few years now. I've been trying too hard to find that centre, pushing too hard against the current, getting lost nonetheless - or rather, because of my pushing. I got too tired recently of pushing; and went with the flow.

Even then, I've been irresponsible lately. My finances aren't shored up. My emotional state has been a wreck. My sanity a thread in a delapidated doily.

Tonight, though, for the very first time in a while, I feel calm. It's as if I'm coming to shore.

Guess it's time to find my land legs.

fa fa fa fa

2008-10-08T23:14:00.006+11:00

(for those scratching their heads, watch this.)

Christianity in a nutshell

2008-09-22T08:16:00.007+10:00

This photo is not doctored in any way - I think that's the best bit about the whole thing.

Forest at the Opera House

2008-07-26T21:37:00.003+10:00

Apologies for taking so long to get this up, but I wasn't sure how to convey the feelings of the evening. Being such a staccato/legato experience, I figured it's easier to make it read almost like a haiku.

Outside. Rain.
In Line. Hipsters. Suburbanites. Bad Cowboy boots on one girl. Yelling Teenagers. "Ben!"
Inside. Foliage. Foliage. Construction v Nature. Smoke: columns, haze. Singer. Lost Masses. Contemplation of Outside and Inside.
Outside. Posters: 39 Steps - the Musical, Hamlet @ Belvoir.
Opera Bar Alien.
Home, James.

Gossip Girl: An OC-Lover's Guide

2008-07-20T17:59:00.019+10:00

Josh Schwartz's latest project, Gossip Girl, has started showing in Australia, exclusively on cable.

I've been debating whether to write this post given there's so many (check out a few, below) others, especially this article doing practically the same thing.

The thing is, they're just a wee bit too simplistic. Sure, you can map most of the characters from the OC pretty easily to their Gossip Girl equivalents, e.g.

Marissa Cooper is cooler and more worldly as Serena van der Woodsen.

Kaitlin Cooper gets bigger exposure as Jenny Humphrey, as does Oliver as Chuck Bass:

Luke Ward has his equal in Nate Archibald:

There's also the 'trouble' with fathers: Nate's likes a little too much of a sniff of the coke , whereas Luke's is gay. The mapping is supposed to continue in the second season, with a storyline where he gets to see an older woman played by Central Park West's Mädchen Amick (remind you of anyone?):

Seth's first girlfriend, Anna Stern, becomes Dan's friend Vanessa Abrams:

Of course, Sandy Cohen translates Eastward as ex-rocker Rufus Humphrey

And his wife Kirsten becomes the love of Rufus' life, Lily van der Woodsen (cue the semi-incestuous storyline):

But that's when it gets more complicated. For example, Little Jenny's brother, Dan Humphrey, is a bit of a mix of Seth Cohen and Ryan Cooper:

Serena's best friend and Queen 'B', Blair Waldorf, is very much the mix of Summer and Julie Cooper Nichol:

Kiki, Julie and the Noopsies get younger as they turn into the girls' clique at St Jude's:

(FYI, I've missed a few of the secondary characters in the right-hand side of the photo).

The relationship between Dan and Serena is a blend of Summer and Seth and Ryan and Marissa, with all the angsty-ness, Dan's longstanding up-until-now-unrequited obsession with Serena, and the insider-outsider aspect of the relationship:

Similarly, the friendship between Blair and Serena isn't as reminiscent of the stick-by-you Summer and Marissa as the on-off semi-but-still-ultimate-BFFness of Kirsten and Julie:

JK-BS.jpg

And the relationship between Lily and Rufus is complicated by her courting of billionaire Bart Bass, a pseudo Caleb Nicholesque character:

Finally, Luke's relationship with Marissa in the first season of OC translates to childhood sweethearts Blair and Nate:

So, that's a really basic starting guide. You know, I love it.

[People.com: Gossip Girl: The New O.C.]
[Socialite Life: Chace Crawford Checks Out An Older Woman]
[meeVee: "Gossip Girl" - "The O.C." Without the Heart]
[Muckety: Gossip Girl resurrects OC themes]
[Metromix Chicago: 'Gossip Girl'... in 'The O.C.'?]
[NY Observer: The O.C. Goes N.Y.C.]

You like Gawker Stalker?

2008-07-15T12:20:00.004+10:00

No way!*

I just found out about this 'even better' version that News Limited have created for World Youth Day:

http://twitter.com/popedownunder

Ya - you can totally follow the pope on his visit around Sydney. It's, like, so hot right now.

*For the record, I don't care much for Gawker Stalker. Nor the pope and his brood.

Oh, no you did-int...

2008-06-02T22:23:00.007+10:00

I'll still go watch it. Still, this has to be one of the worst mental-image inducing headings I've come across in a long time.

PS. Has anyone else seen this lovely tip to To Kill A Mockingbird?

[The PEN15 Club]

dumb idea #3,938*

2008-05-13T09:56:00.005+10:00

How about - 'let's set the slogan for the 2008 Republican Presidential campaign to the same one used by an anti-anxiety drug'?

Great move, John McCain! Almost as good as 'Mission Accomplished'...

* [Casualties in Iraq since 'Mission Accomplished']
[Huffington Post: Jason Linkins]

i can has lolpeoplez now.

2008-05-12T22:40:00.002+10:00

i blinked, and lolcats all of a sudden became lolpeople.

it's fantastic - i especially love these two. i'm still waiting for the lolpriests, tho (scarletscorpio and cvm?)

[pundit kitchen]

Cuteness Friday

2008-05-02T10:50:00.004+10:00

The sun is shining. I can't help it.

1. Star Wars, explained by a 3 year old

2. Hey Jude - one toddler's interpretation

I know. Oldies, but goodies.

bad pun land - know the difference

2008-04-29T14:41:00.001+10:00

in this case, wong should be right.

wright, however, may not be.

introverted social media alien

2008-04-29T11:11:00.003+10:00

for those of you that know me personally, you'll know i started working for a very interesting interactive agency a few months ago.

now that i've made the switch from software to online media and advertising, my life is even more focused on the online world, especially how I can contribute to the different spheres of online life. i've finally bought my first ever wireless modem/router the other day (unfortunately, i've not yet set up a broadband connection at home for a few rather annoying reasons). i've added myself to twitter and have updated my RSS feeds. I've made an effort to use facebook more often and acquaint myself with a whole heap of social networking tools. I've even managed to learn a lot about google analytics and development tools, and can talk about viral marketing best practice with some confidence.

if you'd asked me the difference between HTML, ASP and ASPX a month ago, i would have had a blank look on my face. Now - I may not be 100%, but i'm getting there. I'm able to tell you all the wireless hotspots within a km of my house. I can look at a site and pull apart its components in a few seconds.

Learning all this stuff comes at a price, however. I'm constantly exhausted, and the whole new household settling in thing isn't really helping. To add to it, I've been running around like crazy: networking, farewells, birthdays, celebrations, catching up with old friends, etc.

The thing is, I'm feeling a little done with it all. I'm constantly in contact with people, and as much as I love everyone, it's all a bit much. I don't feel like I'm adding anything to my life in the end, and I just want some time to myself. I need to work out how often I should tweet, blog or IM and what for. I need to know that when I get home, I won't be so exhausted I need to veg out for a good hour or two before I look up (that's assuming I get home before 10, which lately I haven't been doing often enough). It's just not that useful for my health, or life in general for that matter. I want to feel like I'm contributing something interesting, and not just floating along and watching life go past.

So, I'm slipping off the social radar for a little bit. My room needs a reorganise. I have books to read, plays to watch and films to catch up on. Oh, and I haven't been to the gym in god knows how long.

I'm not interested in going out to a bar every second night for the opening of an envelope. I'm not interested in sitting around watching the latest reality tv bore me with its inane host and pathetic contestants.

I'd much rather do a few things around the house, maybe catch up with the odd person, and recollect my thoughts. In other words, it's time to collect some social surplus. Maybe then I'll have something truly stimulating to contribute.

if only madonna had been as popular when chornobyl exploded

2008-04-22T11:27:00.005+10:00

I'm completely bemused, even if a little wary, by this latest round of celebrities sticking their noses into politics.

I mean, it was amusing when Madonna decided to save the world from nuclear waste with magic Kabbalah juice. It kinda makes sense that, as director of the STC, Cate Blanchett would be part of the 2020 summit, especially with regard to Arts. But Shakira, advising the British Prime Minister on educating the developing world?

Next up: Jordan (sorry, Katie Price) advising Thabo Mbeki on hygiene best practices for South African hospitals.

times like these, i need a cocktail

2008-04-11T17:07:00.004+10:00

or five.

stupid me went on a date, and proceeded to be a total fool.

how do i explain this? i went for a lovely drink at one of my favourite establishments, met a lovely guy, you know the game. we went on a date to my current fave venue on king st, in newtown.

a few drinks in, we decided to go for a nightcap at the marlborough. while we were chatting away amicably, i went for the kiss.

except he stepped back.

i tried badly to recompose myself. after a minute or two, even managed to get the conversation going again. half an hour later, he dropped me off at mine.

i feel like such a moron, but i'm even more confused by the fact that the 'date' continued after my gaffe. i have no idea what to make of this whole thing.

on the up side, it is my first date in a while. maybe it's just like that first job interview after working in a role for years - it's like practice for the serious jobs you want to go for later. or else, it just proves that i truly am a masochist.

a case of the bloody obvious, please

2008-04-01T14:33:00.004+11:00

Hmm... unusual day, creative activities, enjoying myself? No way - not on April Fool's...

Turns out not everyone wants to f**k you like an animal...

2008-03-06T10:34:00.004+11:00

I'm not a fan of the RIAA or the MPAA or any of those fan-hating, moneygrubbing organisations whose sole existence seems to be to hunt down anyone and everyone to squeeze them for every penny.

So imagine my delight at reading this. It's actually something of interest that every muso who thinks that they must let the industry dictate how they distribute their tunes should read. Oh, and it may mean the occasional artist may get a little less precious about their intellectual property - hear that, Prince?

Which would you choose?*

2008-02-14T15:56:00.003+11:00

*hint: gift ideas ahead.

I've blogged before about how much I adore Claudia introducing me to Cat and Girl.

Now, even though I'm stone broke from moving house and paying off an innumerable amount of bills, while waiting for some stuff to be completed at work, I did what one does when one is in such a hideous financial state: went window shopping on webstores for new t-shirts. And apart from the "dead presidents doing the Thriller" dance or "Ninjas can't catch you" t-shirts on the Dr McNinja store, pretty much everything is on the Cat and Girl store.

Of course, this comes to the most horrible of dilemmas: which one should I get?

There's the Future Corpses of America:

The There is no God:

Or The Babysitters' Club:

I mean, it's a really, REALLY difficult decision.

I guess this would be the Phil Donahue post

2008-01-01T12:50:00.001+11:00

I came across two very interesting situations the other week. I'll try to keep as general as possible, as I don't want to name names.

A friend had her 'mother-in-law' accuse her of being the overly dominant one in her relationship, inhibiting her boyfriend's potential in life. The mother decided to do this at a dinner party, in front of the boyfriend's family.

Another friend, who has been dating a guy eighteen years his senior, has decided to break it off with his 'hot daddy' because he's uncomfortable with the thought of what his parents would think of his relationship - especially given the boyfriend has more in common agewise with them than with their son.

It seems like parents have this outdated model of masculinity they use to measure their children's relationships by. Basically, their son must call all the shots - or at least, pretend to listen to their partner's needs, then make the call as befits their own specific needs. There's no room in this vision for the other partner's goals or needs (if they get in the way of their son's), and their child's partner definitely should not in any way hold any power over their son - whether that be in terms of age, social standing, or financial status.

The thing they tend to forget is that relationships are full of all sorts of inequalities. The disparities in knowledge, emotional maturity, experience (in every aspect of life), income, age, ethnicity or subcultural alignment... whatever. They are what makes the relationship interesting, what attracts us to our partners. And yes, they can result in situations where one partner exerts a dominant role over the other. Maybe it's just the foucauldean in me, but one would hope that in a good relationship, these roles switch at times and reach a general equilibrium of some sort.

I guess the scary thought is that it's not just parents who harbour these assumptions - people will risk their own happiness by accepting them. Sides, provided you have a family, they will accept your partner (in some way) once they realise just how much you care for each other.

(This last point doesn't justify some family members' expectations that their son's partner needs to demonstrate love for their son in order to meet their approval).

Fuck, i'm such a hopeless romantic.

i think the universe is telling me something...

2007-12-15T09:10:00.001+11:00

the campaign to get me to admit to my judaism seems to be ramping up. i had a very funny moment last week walking past the temple round the corner from my house, where the security guards moved aside to let me through - even though i was clearly walking past and not into the grounds.

then this morning, i come across this t-shirt, which i totally want almost completely based on the cool little preview screen that magnifies the image. given my dislike of christmases (unless they're the white variety we tend to have here in sydney) with the family fights and the screaming children and the horrifically tone-deaf carollers, the thought of converting is starting to appeal.

then i remember what i'd have to lose to become one of God's chosen. no rush on that one.

that, and i'm an atheist. might be a bit of trouble to convince the rabbi that the goy that looks jewish should just become one.

[Discoo]

All I want for christmas...

2007-12-10T13:13:00.001+11:00

I've been wondering what I want to do next now that I'm allowed to go back to the gym. Then I found this:

One word: shoulders.

[PEN15 club: MVP(en15): James Marsden]
[innerjoejoe: iCandy: Josh, James & Beckham]

Reasons we love CVM

2007-11-30T10:53:00.001+11:00

* She introduces me to fabulous things like Cat and Girl:

* She has muchas intelligence, love and humour
* She goes to Elton John concerts with me and sings along with him (and with me singing along with him)
* Her sense of entitlement to a strong opinion on everything
* Her fabulous letters to the editor competition

muchas besos to you, Claudia.

[Chez CVM]

Piratical Discourses

2007-11-26T12:43:00.001+11:00

Contrary to the opinion espoused in Pirates of the Caribbean, there was never a single pirate code. Being a pirate at the moment (more on this later), I guess I should stick to one of the few recorded pirate codes - that of 'Black Bart' Roberts:

1. Every man shall have an equal vote in affairs of moment. He shall have an equal title to the fresh provisions or strong liquors at any time seized, and shall use them at pleasure unless a scarcity may make it necessary for the common good that a retrenchment may be voted.

I am so ecstatic that the ALP have come into power in the Australian House of Representatives. More important, though, is the Senate result; if the Liberals don't lose their majority, then we are basically facing an untenable situation for the next three years.

I'm proud to say that I campaigned for GetUp! this weekend, in my seat of Wentworth. I don't really care that Malcolm Turnbull won again; at least we managed to get the occasional person to think through where they stood. It may take some extra time to get him out, but at least it means there's a change of government, hopefully there will be an attendant compassionate change of attitude in this country generally. It's not that I believe in Krudd; it's that I find the Liberal/National coalition and their allies on the far right and überfundamentalist side of things so utterly distasteful. I don't know if he will just be a paler version of the eyebrow man, i'm just hoping his ascension brings a little more love my way.

2. Every man shall be called fairly in turn by the list on board of prizes, because over and above their proper share, they are allowed a shift of clothes. But if they defraud the company to the value of even one dollar in plate, jewels or money, they shall be marooned. If any man rob another he shall have his nose and ears slit, and be put ashore where he shall be sure to encounter hardships.

I'm back on the job hunt.

My latest foray has ended before it began. Based on a pitch I made in one of my classes, one of the other students (who owns her own agency) decided to headhunt me. So far so good.

After doing some tests and a face-to-face interview, I was offered what I thought was a dream position. All I needed to see was the full job description and letter of offer, and everything was great. So I waited for it.

And waited.

And waited.

We had a few phone conversations in the meantime. First, I was meant to start working in the middle of (what is now last) week, but then that got delayed. Then, I was meant to start today.

Except she never sent the bloody paperwork over.

So, on Friday, after delaying another set of meetings, she finally called one last meeting - on Sunday at 4pm. Alright, is she sure? Yes, absolutely - see you Sunday.

I turned up on Sunday at the arranged place at the arranged time. I waited an hour before going home.

I was way too angry to talk to her, so I left it alone. I finally got a phone call from her this morning, wondering where I was. I explained in no uncertain terms that I was disgusted by such a disrespectful act.

Suffice it to say, I will not be working for this woman. Ever.

3. None shall game for money either with dice or cards.

I won on the horsies the other week. Still have to pick up my winnings.

4. The lights and candles should be put out at eight at night, and if any of the crew desire to drink after that hour they shall sit upon the open deck without lights.

I have partied a little too hard this last few weeks. Time for a bit of slowing down.

5. Each man shall keep his piece, cutlass and pistols at all times clean and ready for action.

Hmm... Need to clean the house again. I don't hate you, etc.

6. No boy or woman to be allowed amongst them. If any man shall be found seducing any of the latter sex and carrying her to sea in disguise he shall suffer death.

No risk of that one any time soon.

7. He that shall desert the ship or his quarters in time of battle shall be punished by death or marooning.

No rush on that one, either.

Sticking around here as long as I can.

8. None shall strike another on board the ship, but every man's quarrel shall be ended on shore by sword or pistol in this manner. At the word of command from the quartermaster, each man being previously placed back to back, shall turn and fire immediately. If any man do not, the quartermaster shall knock the piece out of his hand. If both miss their aim they shall take to their cutlasses, and he that draweth first blood shall be declared the victor.

What a much cleaner way to do this.

I have a certain friend who has misheard me a couple of times, and complaining to other friends that I am being exceedingly cruel towards them. There's two problems with the situation, really:

I absolute love and adore this particular individual, but she won't bring the issues up with me directly; and

She is apparently so offended that she won't answer the phone if i ring.

Thankfully, she will answer her emails, so I figure resolution of the situation will have to occur in a circular manner. You know, as much as I appreciate the delicacy of the whole thing, I find it's just easier to have your barney up front and then clear everything asap.

9. No man shall talk of breaking up their way of living till each has a share of 1,000. Every man who shall become a cripple or lose a limb in the service shall have 800 pieces of eight from the common stock and for lesser hurts proportionately.

As I mentioned earlier, I am currently in pirate land. It all started three weeks ago, when I woke up seeing double.

After five days of testing, it was determined that I have a paralysed nerve in my left eye, caused by a viral infection. Until the paralysis clears completely, I will have to wear an eye patch. So the pirate/pinkeye jokes are flowing like crazy, and I'm only starting to get used to the staring everywhere I go.

There is a definite bonus to the situation: I am meeting people like crazy. Everyone wants to know why I would be bringing pirate back, so there's opportunities abound to make new friends.

10. The captain and the quartermaster shall each receive two shares of a prize, the master gunner and boatswain, one and one half shares, all other officers one and one quarter ugly, and private gentlemen of fortune one share each.

Hmmm... can I be quartermaster or captain? See job search, above.

I think I need to win the lottery. Maybe then I can skip the whole job search and just go straight to the next phase (start award-winnning business, sell it off for mega bucks, and then spend the rest of my life living in Sydney half the year, and somewhere else the other half).

11. The musicians shall have rest on the Sabbath Day only by right. On all other days by favor only.

Still being confused for a Jew. This latest time, it was for living in Woollahra.

Does this mean the musos get Saturday off? 'Cause that's wrong.

[Wikipedia: Bartholomew Roberts]
[Urban Dictionary: John Howard]
[IMDB: Mommie Dearest]

if only...

2007-11-22T17:56:00.001+11:00

Fingers crossed.

If the listing has gone down, I've also included a brief screen shot below:

My personal favourite part of the review:

"* Includes a $200 000 set of executive chairs (not from IKEA!)"

[Digital Mischief]

i knew there was something about this one...

2007-11-16T19:07:00.001+11:00

Conspiracy theory of the week: Muscles is the love child of Dave Dobbyn.

Just In: Not only am I Jewish, apparently I'm a Mormon too...

2007-10-31T13:35:00.001+11:00

I mentioned the other day that I keep getting told I'm Jewish. It's kind of amusing, given the anti-semitism that was so rampant among many of the ukrainians I grew up around (i'm not excluding family members in that, either).

Anyway, apparently Gmail is convinced I'm a bike-carrying member of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints. This Ad link was up today on my inbox:

On My Island Website

Do they realise I'm more likely to be the person RELEASING the dog than running away from it?

i want it right now

2007-10-29T23:39:00.001+11:00

A few videos:

1) This came across via an old friend's Facebook wall. Something about Serge Gainsbourg that reminds me that I have to stop causing so much trouble in my own bedroom:

Aw. Remember when Whitney was wholesome and naive? Apparently it wasn't Bobby that ruined her - we can always blame the French.

2) I heard Armand van Helden's I Want your Soul for the first time at Sleaze Ball, hanging out with a couple of guys who are fast becoming close friends of mine. The track stuck in my head, and I've been trying to work out what it is - it took a trip to the Colombian to find out, typically.

Anyway, all this is to say that I've found the video clip of Siedah Garrett's Do You Want it Right Now - the song that AVH samples in IWYS:

Things I'm loving right now

2007-10-25T08:35:00.000+10:00

Twothousand.com.au
Apple Leopard (well, I want to have it... it's just so pretty)
Able and Baker

courtesy of an old friend...

2007-10-22T18:46:00.000+10:00

Well, at least it gives new meaning to the phrase 'they should be shot and not heard'...

2007-10-15T21:47:00.001+10:00

Hands up those not disturbed by Bullet Proof Baby.

I mean, who else would you turn to at those times your child needs to avoid that drive-by shooting in your 'hood?

It's that self-indulgent time of the year again

2007-10-14T18:48:00.002+10:00

Then again, what time of year isn't self-indulgent?

Oh, that's right: Yom Kippur.
Then again, being the good Jew* that I am, I observe my birthday more regularly.

Also, having the wonderful good friends that I do**, I'm always asked what they should get me. So, at Lady M's specific instruction, I have updated my Amazon wishlist in the leadup to my twenty-nth birthday.

Here it is people.
* By Jew, I mean "Ukrainian ex-Catholic middle-class poofter". Strangely enough, even a lot of Jewish people seem not to understand the difference. I had a few young hasidic kids throwing off Shaloms to me on Friday at Bondi Junction Westfield. Maybe it's cos Hasidism started up in Ukraine?
** This part is true.

Things I thought would never happen to me.

2007-10-05T12:06:00.000+10:00

1) I would enjoy a Vanessa Amorosi performance

Maybe it was the substances I'd ingested, or the fact I'd just been partying for 11 hours straight, but her rendition of Kiss Your Mama (official vid clip below) at Sleaze was fantastic. Would've loved to see her close out the party with a couple more songs, tho...

2) I could be so disgusted by a play that I would walk out of it

I went to see the STC run of Don's Party at the Opera House last night. Halfway through the first act, I found myself feeling the most intense case of cultural cringe such that I had to step out of the theatre.

Now, admittedly, it could have been just from watching an STC play - I'm such a theatre snob that I rarely can stomach the 'mainstream' companies. Personally, I'm more comfortable with an amateur company that ambitiously attempts a new play and fails than watching a big company (like Sydney Theatre Company) do yet another ho-hum interpretation of another 'iconic' Australian playwright.

Couple that with my general dislike of anything related to Australian culture between 1940 and 1990, and I pretty much set myself up. The funny thing, is that a) I've always wanted to see Don's Party performed, and b) I ended up enjoying the second act a lot better than the first, after an intermission-time discussion about my reaction.

Gimme Less/Tears of an Uptight Clown

2007-09-16T10:58:00.001+10:00

A couple of random weeks have come to a close, so I'd thought I'd try to make sense of them through the power of pop culture.

I've been feeling very lazy lately.
My university assignments are getting done at the last minute, my personal filing system (usually immaculate) is all over the place, my stuff in storage is probably growing an extra leg from the mould growing inside. In other words, it's not pretty. So I've decided to take the advice of one Ms Tyra Banks:

A friend turned around to me at a party a few weeks ago and asked why I don't smile any more.

At the time, I had a very bad case of some virus and it was a struggle to just be at this event, let alone giggle away all the time. I didn't want to say anything about it, but the comment did get under my skin.
I guess it comes down to me taking myself a little too seriously lately. It's time to allow me to laugh at myself. Weird to admit it, though.

I'm not sure that I'm ready for a relationship, but I'm really sick of meeting idiots.
I guess it would be the feeling that Amy Winehouse would have if she woke up to her husband's drug spiral. Or Kate Moss.

Thank fuck I'm not in love, though.

Maybe I need to hang out at some more (even just slightly more) intelligent parties or something. And stay away from London. (I think that advice is equally valid for Mr Doherty, FYI.)

On a vaguely related note, I could be off on a weird tangent here, but don't you think that it's pretty much a given that the Moss/Doherty and Winehouse/Fielder-Civil relationships will only end with the (fatal) overdose of one of the partners?

Morbid thought, though.

Right, I'm off to laugh at the sorry state of my poor fridge.

[Perez Hilton: We Just Can't Get Enough]
[Able & Baker: Run on Fun]
[Mollygood: Drinkin' and Snortin' and Fightin']
[Best Week Ever: ICYMI: Pete Doherty & Kate Moss Still Video Documenting their Mutual Love of Drugs]

No, I have NOT been smoking any of that stuff...

2007-08-15T10:35:00.002+10:00

Pity, really. I could do with a good relax.

ANYWAY, I've been reading quite a lot of random material lately.

Let me just start off by talking about Manuel de Landa's A Thousand Years of Nonlinear History. If you are in any way interested in a) historiography; b) philosophy; c) cultural history; d) economic theories; e) the debate about the relevance of science to the humanities, and vice versa; or f) any or all of the above, READ it.

I know it's 10 years old, and that there's other work building on the book, but this is just a fascinating read. And I'm only halfway through. Plus it works with everything I've been reading about dynamic (nonlinear) systems theory in the last few months.

On the other hand, I've just finished the latest Harry Potter (well, the day after it came out), and the last Tales of the City, Michael Tolliver Lives.

The most interesting topic I've been reading about, however, is to do with time. Now, Einstein's theory of relativity posits that time is experienced relatively - the speed at which your body travels through space affects your experience of time (or at least, that's my vague memory of the theory wrt time).

Then there's a concept I came across a while back - Henri Bergson's Virtual, which states that our perception of Now is based on our experience, as visualised through the connection of many possibilities. It's kind of complicated, but I'll give it a shot: effectively, our minds draw from a space called the Virtual (strangely enough, a virtual space) in which every image and concept (whether already-experienced or potential) exists. The way we make sense of any experience we have is to draw upon the Virtual. In other words, we make sense of the current sensations by filtering the various images that come to mind.

What has this got to do with time? Well, the images that come to mind are not just memories (aka. images of the past) - they are also images of presents-that-aren't, of pasts-that-never-were and futures-that-could-be. In other words, time is relative and somewhat circular - it is only present experience that is able to create a linear
impression of time (aka. past -> present -> future).

Anyway, all this is to say that there are plenty of valid philosophies and models for the way time operates.

Which (finally!) brings me to two interesting articles that have come across my desk in the last few weeks. The first, in which it turns out a simple light experiment comes up with very strange results. Apparently, the photons in this experiment either form stripes or spots depending on whether they are observed directly (following the uncertainty principle). However, the strange bit is when photons form spots when observed - but where the observing device is revealed after the photons have already passed through the barrier that supposedly decides the outcome. In other words, a future event affects the present outcome.

Now, a systems perspective would suggest that this is a matter of feedback playing itself out in time - elements related to the situation feeds back to the inputs and decide the ultimate outcome of the situation. It's a nonlinear model of time; the past and the future collude to make sense of the present. (Sound somewhat similar?).

Now, that's presuming time exists at all. Maybe it is just easy to think of time as an organizing concept; yet another social construct (nonetheless with real effects) that helps us to make sense.

[CTheory.Net: 1000 Years of War]
[Manuel De Land Annotated Bibliography]
[Good Morning Silicon Valley: Had we but world enough, and time]
[MSNBC.com: Putting Time in a (Leaky) Bottle]
[DISCOVER: Newsflash: Time May Not Exist]

Random Sightings

2007-08-09T22:37:00.001+10:00

Darling Harbour, 5.30pm today:

Woman wearing a t-shirt with "stupidity's not a crime, so you're free to go" logo in comic sans.

First thought: "No, but using comic sans is."

Then: "Heh."

Something more interesting, then (apologies for any squashing):

[Youtube:PS3 vs Wii Commercial]

Hangover Sunday

2007-07-29T16:35:00.001+10:00

Somehow, half of sydney decided to go out last night. It was so mad, I managed to walk from the Barracks to Taylor Square on Oxford st (a distance of a good 500m) faster than the cars next to me.

Anyway, a big result of this is that I have a tequila hangover and am not capable of offering more than some random quips this week.

Anyway, I caught up with a friend of mine at Slide. He was there for the birthday party for a guy I went out with I think on one date, and I can't remember exactly, but he didn't call me back or something, so I thought he was a prick, then he gave me this huge apology a month ago at the Green Park, but I digress. So this friend, J, (aka. not the not-quite-prick birthday boy) has been having this on-off thing with one of those morons who is always chasing after him with flattering text messages. In typical style, the guy never follows through by meeting with him. Anyway, J's confused and hurt by the whole thing, so we just agreed to get drunk. Then he picked up, and I ended up having tequila slams with La Skankalita, his sister and some random ginger.

So, Lily Allen. I'm a big fan of Lily - so are the GFY girls incidentally (like here and here). But I'd never seen the film clip for Smile until this morning. It's fabulous - great for those 'i've just been dumped by you and you're a total prick so i should totally get my friends to trash your life the way you've trashed mine' moments. Check it out:

Oh, and if all else fails - you could just play a game of faceball.

[Barseed: Slide]
[Gofugyourself:Well Played: Lily Allen]
[Gofugyourself:Well Played: Lily Allen]
[Lily Allen]
[Faceball]

Apparently, all I need is a white streak of some sort...

2007-07-22T01:54:00.001+10:00

You scored as Rogue, Rogue is a strong but tragic personality. She loves Gambit. Because of her mutant powers, she cannot touch anyone without hurting them. Therefore, she longs for human contact. However, this southern gal's strong personality has allowed her to deal with this. Powers: Absorbs lifeforce and powers by touch, Super strength, and flight

Rogue

75%

Gambit

65%

Wolverine

60%

Jean Grey

60%

Emma Frost

55%

Beast

55%

Iceman

55%

Colossus

55%

Cyclops

45%

Storm

45%

Nightcrawler

40%

Most Comprehensive X-Men Personality Quiz 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

Random Harry Potter Saturday

2007-07-21T13:51:00.001+10:00

Some thoughts (I've only read the first chapter):

Typical - Voldemort WOULD stay at the Malfoys
Who would honestly cast Wormwood as the Dungeon Keeper?
Based on the friendship quote at the beginning of the book, I bet Hermione, Ron or Neville are going down. And given it's the last book, all are equally likely.
Maybe Bellatrix and Neville will have their showdown. That would be pretty cool.

Also, based on the conversation Lady M and I had on the way to breakfast, Italians can easily be summed up as the Baker of the piece (that would be the monkey):

And since it's been a while since I blogged, some random thoughts.

Chore Wars. Is there any better way to get geeks to clean their room?
My friend CK and I have decided, in response to that stupid Sociology paper comparing myspace and facebook users, that we are going to trash our Facebook profiles up with all sorts of useless applications. So far, I am a Lieftenant Zombie, my stripper name is Kyle Bangleboss, I routinely Food Fight, I get useless gifts from friends, my Graffiti wall includes a drawing of my head while hungover and a picture of a crocodile, and I'm twins with the wilma and the morag.
I want a Glen Hanson Golden Girls t-shirt! So does Weasel, I suspect.
Simpsonize me sucks. As a comparison, look at what I came up with on the Simpsons Movie site (the first one) and the crappy Simpsonize Me version (from a frontal, and NOT side on, photo taken on my spanky new MacBook - further down):

[Able and Baker]
[Chore Wars]
[GMSV: Honey, about your new boyfriend — your mom and I think he’s a little too “MySpacey” for you]
[Glen Hanson]
[weasel's wacky world of poptaculosity]
[Simpsonize Me]
[Simpsons Movie]

you did NOT just accidentally purchase that closet case??

2007-06-23T17:28:00.001+10:00

Ralph Lauren has created a touch-screen window shopping display that allows you to purchase the clothing at their new store. Apparently, they doublecheck the payment the next day...

I wonder if you can purchase a home-delivered trophy wife and get a complimentary trip back to the closet in the process.

[engadget:Ralph Lauren unveils "touch-sensitive window shopping" in London]
[Ralph Lauren UK]

Those disconap boys, I think they're on to something...

2007-06-15T23:05:00.001+10:00

I've said it once, I'll say it a million times. Bless her highness, Roisin. She's back, and sexier than ever.

She's beautiful, sings like an angel and I dare anyone having sex to The Time is Now not to be getting it on in the right way.

Well, unless you're having hard and fast sex that involves whips and blood. That's what Pure Pleasure Seeker and Indigo are for. Anyway, here's the clip.

BTW, I had a rather unfortunate incident in LA where people proclaimed not to know who Moloko were. This is WRONG, people.

UPDATE: I only just noticed the Roisin Overpowered Remixed myspace page. I officially love the Loose Cannons mix.

[Disconap: Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.]
[Roisin Murphy on MySpace]
[Roisin Remixed on MySpace]

Random Thought

2007-06-10T11:32:00.001+10:00

avocado looks weird on blueberry bagels

A touch of the deja vu

2007-05-26T14:40:00.001+10:00

Most people know that the first guy I ever dated was a drag queen (hi Oleander!) I joke now that the reason we broke up was that there was only enough room for one diva in any of my relationships, but Olly is a good friend who I love dearly. Lives in a fabulous apartment with his boyfriend in East Melbourne, too, and is an amazing artist (I still have to commission him to paint me something when I've got some dosh).

ANYWAY, the point of this post is that I just saw this in one of my procrastinatory moments - fabulous video of what goes into transforming a boy into a girl (for the night). Check it out:

[Queerty - The Making of a Queen]

Narcolepsy is, like, evil

2007-05-26T06:19:00.001+10:00

Damn this stupid jetlag.

It's screwed with me all week. I've fallen (further) behind in my studies.

Tonight, I even managed to randomly fall asleep on Wilma's couch (not an unusual occurrence if I've had a few). Still wearing my shoes and glasses.

My head hurts.

You say 'tag', I write 'wtf'

2007-05-25T10:17:00.001+10:00

Ok, I've been tagged, which means something - I'm not sure exactly what, but gathering on other posts, I'm supposed to give eight random facts about myself. I think. Here goes:

I didn't speak English until I was four. However, I used to speak Ukrainian pretty much fluently from the age of two until four. Funny to consider when I try to speak in ukrainian to grandma on the phone, or even the amount of verbal diarrhoea that I spew forth in english nowadays.
My mother was almost an Italian citizen. She was born within a couple of weeks of my grandparents arriving in Australia from Trieste. Coulda woulda shoulda prada, but it may have meant that my siblings and I could get an EU faster than waiting for either Bosnia or Ukraine to become proper members.
Whilst at university, I used to work as a bussie at the coolest drum and bass night in Melbourne - this was when I had no sense of style. God knows how I managed to score so many drugs, dressed up in black dress pants, a black Bonds t-shirt and crappy dress shoes.
Speaking of university, when I was queer officer at Melbourne University Student Union, we had the inaugural Queer Recruitment week, including all manner of military imagery for the posters. The queers loved and hated it, but it managed to get a laugh out of practically everyone, even the military recruiters all over campus. (To give credit, the idea was my co-office bearer's - I just got to have fun with Photoshop, Quark and Illustrator putting the pics together).
Oh, for Queer Recruitment week, we had a karaoke night, for which I turned up in the gayest outfit I've ever worn (I think I might still have the olive mesh top lying around somewhere). When noone wanted to go first, my co-QOB got me to go up and chose the song - Aqua's Barbie Girl.
Screw You by Elton John is one of my favourite songs.
I really don't like Carson Cressley.
Or Gretel Killeen. More specifically, Gretel's stylist.
For that matter, I'm not a fan of Bathy's stylist either.
Big fan of Bathy, tho - Love her work. Apparently, she makes great cupcakes for la Wilma, too.

Oops. 10 points. Right, who's next? Manky?

[QueerPenguin]
[Claudia]
[Some random person that this is all due to]

LA was a Riot

2007-05-14T18:25:00.002+10:00

I've had heaps of fun, staying at a friend's place in WeHo. Some thoughts about my mini-break:

1) Wear flip-flops/thongs to the airport.
No one likes those smelly-sock-feet when you're going through the domestic security screen.

2) Check for all your stuff before you leave
Know how you forget something when you go on holiday?
This time it was my debit card. Except I realised that it was stolen and someone withdrew the balance of the account last week. Bugger. Oh well, something to talk to the police about tomorrow. And then the bank.

3) Keep your laptop separate from the rest of your hand luggage for the security screen at the airport.

I'm a lucky boy. Security forced me to sit while they lifted and separated my luggage. Then they ran the piles of stuff through the scanners. Twice.

4) Be gracious in accepting your hosts' hospitality.

Especially if they're both hot. Offer gifts - like mornings full of groups sex. Especially when they're both into it.

5) An Australian accent does all sorts of things to gay Americans.

Especially hot latino men who will drop to their knees and offer a good blowjob at an after-hours blowout.

6) Go to after-hours blowouts...

7) No matter where you go, Cher is still a diva

As is Madonna, Babs, Better and all the others. And the Americans now know who Kylie is - especially the dancing queens.

8) References to Prisoner: Cell Block H will get you anywhere with 30+ yo hot gay men.

This is just randomly added for QP's amusement.

9) I love LA, but I couldn't live there.

That said, I'll happily visit WeHo at the drop of a hat.

Oh, there's a really cool hat store there called Goorin Brothers - very nice.

10) Most important - check out the bartenders at every venue, and make sure to talk to them.

They'll sometimes give your drink for free if they think you're hot - cf. item #5 above.

11) Uncle Charlie is not a nice copassenger, no matter how short the flight.

aka. White lines - don't do it.

kisses, B

Can't. Talk. Must. Study.

2007-05-11T13:39:00.002+10:00

I have been very lazy when it comes to my studies whilst here. Really must finish all that work due two days ago.

Anyway, some more random observations from today:

Gotta love this city. How often do you find a straight transgender woman police commissioner?
Also, the street mags contain really interesting, cogent reporting. Like this piece on corruption in the necropolis city...

Oh, and best for last - I sat opposite a real life, latina Vicky Pollard on the bus this morning. I mean, full-out over-tight black jacket with overly small black denim capris, white plastic belt and hoop earrings, black sneakers, tight black ponytail with brass-coloured fringe flicking to the right...

Ok, so she looked a little more like 'I ain't bovvered' Lauren's best friend from the Catherine Tate Show than Vicky, but as soon as she started gossiping loudly about some friends of hers, how she had been suspended from school and her man, all I could think was 'No, but yeah, but no, but yeah...'

The First Rule of Berkeley Book Readings is Don't Talk about the Line

2007-05-11T00:59:00.001+10:00

I've been getting some strange comments from the guys at work. They're all having trouble understanding my 'accent' - apparently, the 'toilet paper English' Australians speak is hard for Americans to comprehend.

Anyway, moving Backwards...

Last night - After my first gym session since arriving: obligatory Tales of the City checkoff moment (a drink at The Stud II), followed by dinner and drinks with a pastry chef cum architect in the Castro. Fabulous new recipes for salads and desserts, and getting taught 8-ball and 9-ball at the pool table at Moby Dick's.

Wednesday morning - Franciscan monk spotted on the corner of Church & 14th. As is typical, wearing red laptop satchel and wearing a NY Yankees baseball cap. Franciscans in San Francisco - who would've thought?

Sunday afternoon - the boys from the office hired a car and took me around town. Saw the most amazing view from Twin Peaks of the city (it was a fogless day, and I typically forgot my camera), and had hamburgers from this fantastic hole in the wall in Sausalito after sleazing over hot men on the beach in Marin County. This was then followed by a couple of drinks at The Mix. The weirdest thing? Toss up - meeting a meek drag queen or a man who begged I sleep with his ex so that he could get some sex...

Saturday - After crawling out of bed at 3pm, went for late brunch at the Grove on Fillmore
(Pacific Heights) - really nice! Then stumbled through Chinatown and upper downtown til I eventually found Union Square. Met the Support Diva, and she took me with her to a book reading by Chuck Palahniuk at UC Berkeley. (photos on the Flickr account)

The sight of all those aspiring writers did something to us. The Diva and I came up with a great introductory speech ("You really think you can make it as a writer? Well, you can't!! It's too hard a life - just ask this schmuck..."). Then I managed to fall asleep during one of the readings. Thank God I don't snore. Oh, and he threw out fake dismembered limbs and plastic hamburgers at the end of the event. I have a hamburger - got it signed, but only after a TWO HOUR wait in the line. Diva and I were so insane by the end (and they didn't even have the decency to offer drinks while we waited), that she asked him if there might be some mistake, but does he realise the second rule of Fight Club is the same as the first?

One last thing - you could take photos with the author, but only if one of you held a veil and a bouquet. The Diva went through that once, thank you very much, so it was my turn apparently. Worst part of the evening, tho? Getting back to SF at 1am, having missed all the Cinco de Mayo celebrations across the city...Eh, at least I have a signed hamburger.

Friday - a rather inebriating dinner at a coworker's house (including my white shirt being bled on by his pet chihuahua), followed by dancing at the Endup. Met the hottest straight Irishman on earth, then his best friend (I think Busty would well like him, too). Then the hot boy set me up with a spunky ~~primary~~ elementary school teacher. Didn't realise the teacher was 46yo until 3pm the next day - he seriously looked like he was in his early thirties. Oops!

here i thought brothers and sisters was getting too much SD-6 action

2007-05-04T14:47:00.001+10:00

WARNING: Spoilers ahead (this is for Lady M)

OK, so four days into SF and i've barely had a chance to experience this city. That said, I've caught up with a lot of TV watching, meaning I've gotten very confused with the shows that run however many weeks ahead here. For example:

Eva Longoria is engaged to the watersports senator from Sex and the City
Evil Francie from Alias is Madison from Grey's Anatomy's best friend
The bastard daughter in Brothers & Sisters is committing adultery with one of her half-brothers-in-law
OH, and I just watched Tyra Banks freak out at the sight of furry animals on her chat show - to the point where she knocked over half her set.

I forgot how weird this country is. Oh, and the one night I did go out:

I got serenaded by a wannabe opera singer. Cute, but not as cute as
The filmmaker I met in the smoking room of the bar
or the Dutch travellers and their pseudo-boyfriends at Badlands

More later...

Good Morning SF

2007-04-28T20:57:00.001+10:00

So I'm heading in to SF.

I'll be there until May 18th. Any suggestions what to do while I'm there (*apart from the scenery*)?

B

apparently, i'm balanced

2007-04-06T11:11:00.001+10:00

or at least balanced-brained:

That means you are able to draw on the strengths of both the right and left hemispheres of your brain, depending upon a given situation.

When you need to explain a complicated process to someone, or plan a detailed vacation, the left hemisphere of your brain, which is responsible for your ability to solve problems logically, might kick in. But if you were critiquing an art opening or coming up with an original way to file papers, the right side of your brain, which is responsible for noticing subtle details in things, might take over.

While many people have clearly dominant left- or right-brained tendencies, you are able to draw on skills from both hemispheres of your brain. This rare combination makes you a very creative and flexible thinker.

The down side to being balanced-brained is that you may sometimes feel paralyzed by indecision when the two hemispheres of your brain are competing to solve a problem in their own unique ways.

Yeah, right.

[Stingo: Algebra?!]
[Tickle: The Brain Test]

You know you're watching quality television when the chook stops squawking...

2007-04-06T08:03:00.001+10:00

For some reason, despite the fact it is a public holiday, I can't sleep. So I start flicking through the channels on the TV to find a report on Channel Nine's Today Show on the Royal Easter show (currently under way, strangely enough).

The scary bit? The reporter was interviewing (at the same time) a world champion hula hooper AND getting a demonstration on how to clean chickens.

Don't get me wrong - I'm all for the promotion of poultry cleanliness. No one wants that chicken flu anywhere near them.

Is it just a bit much to ask that we not be put through the spectacle of watching the chook being cleaned while a girl in a black satin costume and big sunglasses twirls hoops around her neck and waist in the background?

I mean, here's one of the reasons why Today keeps losing to Sunrise in the morning show ratings stakes - they can't properly identify how much information you need to put to make a story. This is two stories, people - make two SEPARATE segments!

Ukrainian-Irish Stuff

2007-03-16T14:57:00.001+11:00

So, I received a completely unreadable email from my cousin today (strangely enough, not an unusual occurrence). Unreadable, that is, except for this image:

Which of course made me think that I really want to head to that t-shirt store where they print what you want on t-shirts for you with the following design:

St Patrick's Day
getting Ugly Catholics pregnant
ever since the bastard killed that dragon.

(Yes, I realise that it was in fact St George that slayed the dragon. I was brought up Catholic - and I am thoroughly relishing the idea of getting preggers tomorrow).

we love claudia

2007-03-11T18:05:00.001+11:00

I realise I talk a lot about his penguinness, but that may be just because he seems to be the one who writes the most amount of copy that I can link to. There are a few other stars in the family who deserve equal amounts of attention.

Instead of harp about each of them together, I would just love to say how much I enjoy the rantings of one claudia marckx. Claudia rocks - as a friend, as one hell of an intellectual and as a frequent contributor to the SMH letters page. And she can write - albeit infrequently.

It just makes it so much easier to dismiss her inexplicable love of Clover Moore.

what a beautiful photoshoot - what a shame the model is a whore...

2007-03-10T10:49:00.001+11:00

I'm growing to really love Disconap. They're always introducing me to some fantastic new acts.

As anyone who knows me will tell you, Saturday morning is sacred to me - I spend it reading the paper (just heading out to pick it up right now, actually), attempt the cryptic crossword and flicking through various blogs and websites - places like QueerPenguin, Dr McNinja, Able and Baker, GoFugYourself, Queerty (gotta love those Morning Goods), Same Same (hi Christian!), Threadbared, SocialiteLife, The Huffington Post, Dlist, Gay.com (did you know they actually have good interviews once in a while? Well, I do now!) and countless others. Some are necessary reading, others when I'm in the mood. I think Disconap has now definitely has got its 'necessary' box ticked.

And every so often, they come up with something so funny, I have to share it somehow - like the Sports Illustrated combined Swimsuit & Music edition. I mean, as if I would ever look at SI - I'd have to be introduced to it by some straight guy, or at least a music website (yes, that sounded strange to me, too).

Aaaaannnnyyywayyyy, one of the genius moments that they had was getting the kids from Panic! At the Disco to do a shoot with a model in a swimsuit. (Did I mention that I learnt about P!ATD from The St James Version - another Saturday morning favourite?) As every one of the two blog entries I've read about this has mentioned, there's just way too much stage makeup on those boys - great for Julie Henderson, I guess, cos she looks absolutely hot compared to those wannabe-pansy-queers. I mean, check out the eyebrows on Brendon Urie (I've just learnt that the kids call him 'Bden' - so cute! And lame too!).

On a VAGUELY related note, I still don't understand that 'Sins not Tragedies' song. I mean, what constitutes a 'sense of poise and rationality'? Maybe I've misheard it and it's actually a sense of poison rationality - in which case, does this mean that it's some form of 'rationality' that poisons the mind, or is it actually Poison rationality, which makes you sometimes wish to God you didn't know now the things you didn't know then?

Ok, enough of the P!ATD bashing - my internal homophobia can now return to its cage having mauled its target of the week.

So, like, yeah, I will definitely read DN more often.

It Came from WTF [DN]
Swimsuits! at the Disco aka Why Is Ryan Ross Not In Briefs? [So More Scene]

a bit of the new...

2007-03-06T22:35:00.000+11:00

ok, so i've been listening to different musicians lately. some of the musicians i've been listening to recently:

Augie March - Loving the new album!
Hot Chip. Over and Over has been stuck in my head for ages, and listening to them has also introduced me to:
Amy Winehouse. That Dinah Washington thing with her voice is amazing - and the Hot Chip remix of Rehab rocks.
Mika - you gotta love, love him.
Lily Allen. She's foul mouthed and pretends to not not be middle class - too many similarities there...
The Gossip. Ok, so Beth Ditto got voted rock person of the year or whatever, and that's how i found out about them, but there's just something about that band...

Anyway, that's enough. I have to be... somewhere else.

Last Impressions also count...

2007-03-02T07:33:00.001+11:00

I've been avoiding writing blog entries for a while. Not because I don't enjoy writing (I do, when I get myself into it), or because I haven't had topics (I have), but because I've been really uninterested in spending my whole time looking back. I'm trying to change my life at the moment (as usual), and am a little concerned that my blog writing has become nothing more than a wallowing exercise.

Which makes this post somewhat puzzling. But it has it's reason - it's here to remind me of the sorts of situations I never want to be in again. Just to quickly recap (film-brochure style):

After moving out of a tedious household situation and escaping a string of morons and commitment-phobs in his personal life, Bads33d decides that he needs to focus on career goals and setting himself up financially before he can consider living with other people or dating someone. Unsurprisingly, within two weeks, he meets someone interesting and proceeds to start seeing him. All is well for two months, until he receives an unusual email one Friday morning...

So, I'm just about to post the email. This is not vindictive - frankly, I think the guy I was seeing has enough issues not to need another one added to the list, and besides I deliberately waited a few weeks before posting this. I guess it's to act as a personal mnemonic device: I've placed it up somewhere to remind myself how not to go about breaking up with someone and
just the sorts of thing that I've been letting myself get in and basically need to avoid.
Anyway, without further ado:

My thought for the day,
The desire to succeed means nothing without the will to prepare!
Funny that, I can so relate.

Babe I really need to talk to you about you and I.
Won’t go to too much detail at the moment but rather face to face as that would be more appropriate.

In brief, you said you ‘didn’t want a weekend boyfriend a while ago’.
Well I feel that may well be the case dating me.

I feel really bad because that’s all I’m able to offer you. I can well imagine you’re probably just as frustrated as I am at the moment and that will be very damaging to our relationship if we continue or rather if I continue doing this to you.

You’re a beautiful souls and a beautiful man and have a huge heart, but I just don’t want to lead you on and hurt you.
Quite honestly, I really love your company, your intellect and your scattiness even more. It’s a constant form of entertainment.

I really believe our intimate beginnings have made for a strong foundation to base a friendship on.
I said that if this didn’t work out I’d still love to have you around as a friend and I still stand by that comment.
I do want you around as a friend.

Hopefully after reading this you too want to maintain a friendship.
I not though, I also understand.

Give me a call or send an email and let me know what your thoughts are.

My immediate thought when I received this? Oh shit, here I am again.

That said, I've been thinking about my approach to life a lot lately. I don't have an answer to it all, but I do have a few ideas. More on this soon...

hey, i think you may have forgotten missy elliott and queen latifah...

2007-02-08T00:42:00.001+11:00

Ever had one of those days where you feel really down, like God's not looking after you?

Maybe it's because you've been listening to Gay Bands!

PS. I never knew George Michael was Texan! Or that John Mayer is gay - well, at least that explains Jessica Simpson...

Random Conspiracy Theory

2006-12-29T13:21:00.001+11:00

Thought that floated into my head this morning:

What if AIDS really did kill the creative, humanist impulse of the western world?

I don't know about you, but i could really go for a splash of that Mr Martini...

2006-12-10T10:06:00.001+11:00

Hmmm.. these ARE potentially the gayest christmas-themed present ever. (Well, that or those photos of Tom Cruise.)

Remind me how mermen and mermaids fit into the story of Christmas? Is it that Christian obsession about fish?

My personal favourite? 'Cosmo'. Nothing says Christmas to me like a leather merman, cocktail in hand.

In any case,I love that Americans still don't know who Robbie Williams is.

Best. Salon Movie Scene. Ever. (Sniff)

2006-11-11T00:37:00.001+11:00

Dear Jennifer Coolidge,

You know I love your work.

There's just something adorable about your turn as the gloriously gold-digging Anna Nicole-Smith-esque Sherri Ann Ward Cabot in Best in Show. Then there's your oh-so-hilarious turn as Stifler's mum in the American Pie movies. And I still bemoan the fact your Paulette Bonafonté (aka. the adorable hairdresser-cum-best fried of Elle Woods) was never put to full potential in Legally Blonde 2: Red, White and Blonde, even with the whole styling-the-senators schtick...

But you know, I think the film-viewing public absolutely MUST be made aware of your most spectacular stylist role - one that has, much to my shame, only come to my attention recently (aka. in the last two days whilst stuck in bed with the flu and hence catching up on trashy DVDs). This is your AMAZING turn as Betty, the gay boys' therapist/hairdresser, in The Broken Hearts Club.

You know, I have avoided this film for years, thinking it was one of those absolute gobshite gay films where everything's too pat and sweet etc. And it is. Even if the boys in it are rather pretty to look at, especially the guy who Brenda dumps for Nate in Six Feet Under (incidentally, did you know he played the spunky black cowboy dude with the stutter that Janeane Garofalo's character picks up in Romy & Michele's High School Reunion? I completely forgot, but there it is, right on his official website).

I digress. It is crap, except for this one scene where 'gay men's therapy' is elaborated. There you are, your hair askance, your dowdy olive cardigan-ish cardigan-wrap thing tied around your chocolate dress, just bouncing through this one scene where you cut everyone's hair while these boys crap on about their meaningless lives (hell, I know I do it with my beloved Adam - and he's a friend!) and you only deliver three lines. It's all so beautifully executed - especially your final gem:

'It's a gift.'

It's just so wonderfully delivered. I can't help but love it!

That's all.

Kisses,

Bads33d.

PS. You know, QueerPenguin (supposedly) loves your work so much he wants to
inflict Ben Affleck on you... (Maybe it's the diet screwing with his head and) I know he has the more widely read blog, but I could never be so cruel. Pick me as your favourite! Pretty please?

PPS. Please don't misconstrue my last postscript - I love QueerPenguin very much as a dear friend. I just don't understand how he can be so cruel to you. I mean, quite obviously Jennifer Beals would have been a better choice for Bennifer 3. She could flashdance him into submission and then leave him for a stone butch local at some poker tournament. Or - even better - for Jennifer Garner (after a particularly grilling session at the local dance studio). Wait, does that make me sound straight?

PPPS. Would you ever consider having a faux-hairdresser-off with Leisha Hailey?

Who would have thought...

2006-11-10T18:46:00.001+11:00

You Are Most Like Samantha!

For you, dating is the ultimate sport
You're into guys with power, looks, or a lot of money.
You rather have a great two weeks than a great forever.
But even you fall victim to love from time to time. :-)

Which Sex and the City Vixen Are You?

if daisy duke lived in the ghetto and was male, he'd be wearing...

2006-10-06T09:48:00.001+10:00

a sleeveless yellow hoodie, short! (almost hotpant short) denim shorts and green footy socks that had sagged over his/her sandy hiking boots.

Well, that's what I wore to sleaze. thanks to J, especially, for the costume idea. anyways, some responses on seeing the costume:

Co-worker IM Convo
> omg
lol
it was my outfit for sleaze ball
> Have you ever heard of Daisey Dukes?
> cute
> lol
> you couldn't find shorter shorts?

The McNinja response:

> Love it! You look terribly ghetto fabulous darling!
> Hee hee.

S1:

> Promise me you'll NEVER dress up for me! I love you, you know that but
> I'm seriously creeped out right now.

S2:

> Your hot. I love it!!!

Hmmm... When added with the comments about my legs (people kept grabbing my arse, i had drag queens openly wishing they had them, one guy couldn't stop talking to my crotch...) resounding success, I think.

Something for Lady M

2006-10-05T22:26:00.001+10:00

So, last year, Lady M got a bunch of requests from people wondering what I would like for my birthday. Usually, I prefer to let people work out what I like, but apparently my tastes are so eclectic or something and it's hard to do it.

So I've made it easier for everyone and include a link to my Amazon wishlist.

they smoke differently done down there, don't they?

2006-09-25T19:28:00.001+10:00

I did my half-yearly visit to melburnia this weekend. Some random thoughts:

Melbourne Taxi Drivers are rude

..and not in the good way. I had one driver pull up in front of me after i hailed him, and then proceed to tell me he was on another job. One night I walked for twenty minutes and was POINTEDLY ignored by at least ten drivers before one deigned to stop for me. there was the one on the drive home late saturday night who insisted on telling me i needed to be religious, then the one who pretended i didn't exist the whole way to the airport and farted and gossiped in egyptian on his mobile the whole way there. (honestly - at least use a handsfree kit!)

Ukrainians are generally still conservative

It was a very Ukrainian Melbourne trip for me. Hilariously, this meant I got to see the best and worst of Ukrainian-Australian culture at play. It included the usual gossip circling around the usual group of suspects (anyone who didn't fit in - which basically means everyone else but those at the table), and the daft avoidance of anything vaguely interesting. Then there were the cool moments - having cocktails at 4am in the morning while talking about shit, swapping ipods with H to discuss our fave music of the mo. then there was the strange tale of R. (i'll get to that one in a minute).

i may be a klutz, but i'm stylish in the way i do it.

so, the reason i went down south was for my friends L and D's engagement party on saturday night. I got there, wearing a very stylish, albeit tweedy, outfit. My fave sandy/camel leather pointy Milus (still don't know what that style is called), some thick grey pants (it is melbourne, people - even on a 'warm' night in spring you need 'em), gorgeous white marcs shirt and warm cream ben sherman jumper. so what do i drink? that's right, children: red wine.

so what's the thing i do at midnight that would befit such behaviour? yes, i slipped. on the stairs to be precise. ten seconds after i realised carrying a glass of red whilst holding my heavy black jacket in the other hand may not be the right idea. anyways, long story: wine goes all over the cream newly-carpeted staircase below me and not a drop of red on my clothing. now, that's talent.

The strange tale of R

i actually arrived on the friday night. got picked up by one of my fabulous hosts (hi D!) and we headed back to his place, the one he shares with his equally fabulous other half. We spent the first hour and a half gossiping before the constant text messages and phone calls got in the way. so i headed out and caught up with my cousins before meeting up with my dear dear friend E at Bar Open.

E was there with her cousin to watch N's band. N is someone I grew up with, but never really got to know. I always thought she was a stuck up bitch - turns out I may have been projecting. Just a little bit.

Anyway, she has a fabulous set of lungs and the set (what one song i heard of it) is really cool. go on - check out their website.

So N and I have this 10 minute catch up, gossiping about crap and then she turns to me and asks if i know R. Sure, I say, he's my second cousin, haven't seen him in years. Well, he's one of my best friends, she says. What's he up to, i ask. Runs his own restaurant. Mental note to self: ask mum and grandma about him when we ladies who lunch the next day.

Ladies who luncheon turns into a ukrainian feast the next day: overboiled vegetable, overoiled salads and soggy cabbage rolls. I eat as much as my stomach can take, but the two breakfasts I just had are fighting me. Anyway, I ask about R - ma tells me he has a cafe-restaurant in Ascot Vale, supposed to be nice, she hasn't been there but my bro and sis have. Grandma pipes up - she's been there (R's her great-nephew, grandson of her older bro). She went there with her sister - the boy done recognised her and everything. Walked up to them as they were walking past and told them they looked familiar - how does he know them? They had coffee there, he's a nice boy but pity about his parents etc etc. Typical ukrainian grandmother gossip.

A moment's pause here. When I walk in to lunch, grandma tells me off for being so wasted away. I point out I've put on five kilos since she last saw me. When grandma describes R, she describes him as nice and thin - he used to be chubby. Apparently, he's thinner than me, but I'm the wan one. Bless ukrainian grandmothers.

Bro and sis walk in. Say they met him, too. He walked up to sis and asked her how she knew him. Takes a few minutes to establish the connection - only when he mentions his sister that she clicks (the two sisters used to hang out all the time). It's at this point I realise I need to visit the cafe.

Half an hour later, I'm catching up with H. We decide to check out the boy - she's been there, reckons she's met one of the owners. Quite young, sweet; he's even visited her bank once or twice back in the day when she was rocking the teller desk.

We walk in and he walks up to both of us. I recognise him immediately - that photographic memory comes in handy - and he's cuter than I remember. He asks us how he knows us both. (I wonder if you can pick up his schtick). H explains how they met.

'And you? How do I know you?'

'I'm your cousin.'

Works a treat. 'Oh, Bads33d! I thought you lived in Sydney.'

Anyway, long story short: after about half an hour of H and I catching up (as we do), he sits down with us and gossips. My first impression - friend of d'orothea - only solidifies as the convo continues. At some point, I stop the flow of conversation: cigarette time.

I've already established he's a fan of architecture during the conversation. This is the third restaurant he's set up, etc etc. Over a couple of cigarettes, we gossip. He's perennially single, been doing the same thing for years and bored with it, wants to do something creative and expressive. Sound familiar? Wait, it gets funnier - he goes after the same types of boys as me and wants to move to Spain in the future.

Meanwhile, poor H is on the phone with two of my cousins. 'Oh cool, another spunky gay ukrainian. Wonder if he's my cousin, too?' (Thank fuck she loves her birthday present, honestly).

So after all this time, I found my gay twin. And he's related to me. And, of course, the coffee was well free. This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Squee.

Oh, I'll take your tagging challenge, all right

2006-09-05T14:17:00.001+10:00

For the first time in forever, it's a quiet day at work. (Public holiday in the US - which means the rest of the week is bound to be a nightmare). So I'm using the time productively - reading other people's blogs, including QP. Noticing he's taken up Richard Watts' tagging challenge, I figured I'd try it out:

1. Grab the nearest book.

2. Open the book to page 123.

3. Find the fifth sentence.

4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences along with these instructions.

5. Don’t you dare dig for that “cool” or “intellectual” book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

The fun thing is that for once my cool, intellectual book is actually the nearest book (it's even closer than the partner agreement folder, which is a) the only book on my work desk and b) would require me to find the 123rd partner agreement... anyway too much effort). So without further ado, from Félix Guattari's Chaosophy:

The whole system of projections derives from machines, and not the reverse. Should the desiring-machine be defined then by by a kind of introjection, by a a certain perverse use of the machine? Let us take the example of the telephone exchange: by dialing an unassigned number, connected to an automatic answering device ("the number you dialed is not in service...") one can hear the overlay of an ensemble of teeming voices, calling and answering each other, criss-crossing, fading out, passing over and under each other, criss-crossing, fading out, passing over and under each other, inside the automatic voice, very short messages, utterances obeying rapid and monotonous codes. There is the Tiger; it is rumored there is even an Oedipus in the network; boys calling girls, boys calling boys.

(OK, so I'm not technically sure whether I quoted four or five sentences, but whatever). I'm just glad I was at my work machine and not the home one - would probably be quoting DNA magazine or something...

i just wanna fuckin dance

2006-09-03T15:17:00.002+10:00

I once read somewhere that a hermit who was watching his hourglass without praying, heard noises that split his eardrums. He suddenly heard the catastrophe of time, in the hour-glass. The tick tock of our watches is so mechanically jerky that we no longer have ears subtle enough to hear the passage of time.

Bachelard, The Poetics of Space (p167)

Anyway...I'm trashed. Or trashy. Or something like that.

I'm overrun with time this afternoon, partly because I can't focus on anything long enough to get my shit together. So I've decided to intersperse what is a particularly boring story with random commentary just to give you an idea just how scatty my brain is today.

Whatever happened to getting my shit together?

I stupidly started seeing this guy a few weeks ago.

The fam were visiting, which meant a simultaneously boring and emotionally stunted dinner which - due to the present company of my catholic priest godfather, who decided that after 40 years of living in this country that he can't (and won't) speak english - included such scintillating topics as the priestly ethics course that the Ukrainian Catholic Bishop of Oceania has put into place and that my godfather is now running with a catholic priest from Adelaide.

Hindsight being that lovely kick up the arse that it is, no, I didn't make the obvious joke about altar boys and Father Paddy's (in this case, Father Dimitri's) hair parting actions. (That's what us devout atheists call Taking It for Jesus).

So, of course, when we left the restaurant at 10.00 that night (no pre-dinner cocktails and ONE bottle of red and ONE bottle of white between four adults, AND I was the only person who actually ate all three courses...must have been Lent or something. aren't Catholics supposed to be alcoholic what with all the children and the guilt and everythign?), I was desperate for some human interaction that didn't involve my mother and I pretending to listen to each other's inane chatter.

A few phone calls later, I headed over to J's place in Chippo, only to end up coming back to Oxford St 15 minutes later. Typical.

After two minutes at the Burderking, we grabbed the boys and headed over to Palms.

See! isn't that funny? I just merged the Burdekin and the Burger King into one word, even though they're diagonally across the road from each other. Whaddaya mean, you don't get it? Oh, it's not that funny, is it? Well, I'll just HAVE to continue this story then, won't I?!

J and I seem to spend too much time at Las Palmas. For those who have not had the pleasure, Palms is what you would get if you interbred an RSL, a gay club and a greek tavern then dumped it into a basement space and added (for good measure) a DJ who doesn't mix the music so much as wait for the track to finish before putting the next one on. So of course, it's all handbaggy and trashy. Just the place to go to every once in a while after a house party or something.

Just not every weekend.

Hmm... I've managed to avoid its insidious charms this weekend. Probably a good move.

So, when we arrive, there's this cute guy who bounces up to our friend J2. I accidentally tripped J2 up at some point in the evening when my legs and arms went out to catch him, except my arms didn't move. Must have been the alcohol and residual anger towards my father and godfather. Anyway, bygones.

The cute friend was giving me the eye. You know, the gay version, not the evil one. Except he was there with some guy. Then he started chatting me up and dumped the guy (in front of me, no less) to spend the night with me. I remember being bemused about it at the time, but should have known better than to go home with him. But I did - what goes on at Palms stays at Palms.

Except for that time I slept with that guy that went to school with J, and it turns out he works in the same building as me. Reason #128,954,759 to leave my job, anyone?

Wake up in the morning with a head like ‘what ya done?’
This used to be the life but I don’t need another one.
Good luck cuttin’ nothin’, carrying on, you wear them gowns.
So how come I feel so lonely when you’re up getting down?

So I play along when I hear that favourite song
I’m gonna be the one who gets it right.
You better know when you’re swingin’ round the room
Look’s like magic’s solely yours tonight

Anyway, so we slept together. BIG surprise there.

And I stupidly went out with him again. And slept with him again.

Then I left it at that. I wasn't particularly interested, and he seemed a little, well, flighty.

Funny that.

Oh, I forgot to mention that I went to this Madonna thing at Slide at some point in during this whole shemozzle, where they were supposed to play 48 Madoona songs in a row, but ended up playing three at a time, then three other songs, then three more madoona songs all night long.

I bumped into the spunky Croatian doc from a while back. He ended up walking part of the way home with my housemate and myself.

Hmm.. he's still cute and friendly. I think I could really do with a serve of McDreamy.

Anyway, we did end up on a second date, where we ended up at the Colombian with W, a few PR PR people and a sleazy journo who ended up pashing one of the PR PR girls in a really ugly way.

(Can you tell I'm preparing myself for my future career in PR?)

The strange thing was that it turned out he did have a brain, and a creative one at that. Either that, or he was very good at very elaborate lies, because by the end of the night he had charmed me. Then, when we woke up the next morning and he said he wanted to spend more time with me (and not just see me once a fortnight), I was genuinely happy. That was last weekend.

Busy crazy week meant that I didn't speak to him again til Wednesday, when he rang up and invited me to a party on Friday with him. He didn't have the details, but he would call me on Friday morning with them.

I love Fridays. There's something about leaving the office at 7pm and knowing that I have two days to myself that I really really love.

Yes, I did mean 7pm, people. I know I work stupid hours.

But I don’t feel like dancin’
When the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance
But my two feet can’t find a way
You think that I could muster up a little soft, shoop devil sway
But I don’t feel like dancin’
No sir, no dancin’ today.

So Friday came round, and I texted him at 9am, when I remembered I had no idea what was going on. I was run off my feet with the fifteen or so things that are happening around the traps so I wasn't exactly checking my mobile waiting for him to ring. Still, no phone call.

At 6.30 I left a message on his phone as I was walking home to let D1 drop off our new (well, not so new, but still) big screen TV. By 7.30, no phone call - the dirty bastard.

So I called W, and went and joined him at the Opera Bar for a friend's birthday drinks, followed by drinks at the Colombian with J and J2 and some random complicated love triangled people (too confusing a situation to understand, just don't ask), and then Kooky.

I haven't been to Kooky for almost five years. It really sucked on Friday, though. I left after the band finished. (The band sucked bad eggs).

I'm breakin' it down
I'm not the same
I know you're feelin' me 'cuz you like it like this

So now, all I want to do is get out and dance. I can't be fucked being pissed off with him, I can't be bothered beating myself up over the fact that blind freddy could see that conclusion coming from outer space, I don't care to slap him across the face next time I see him (as much as he TOTALLY deserves it). I just want to enjoy myself, really.

So I'm just gonna go to the Kylie thing at Slide tonight with some friends and enjoy myself. Even though I enjoyed myself last night a bit too much, what with the vino and the pot and the half-tab (and a fucking strong one at that) of ecstasy at my neighbour's house-cooling/birthday party last night. But that's another story.

Ok, rant over.

Light Bushels...

2006-08-18T12:00:00.000+10:00

My company has a companywide del.icio.us feed which occasionally brings up a gem. Like this one from the 'Star Trek Inspirational Poster' website:

umm...

If your pants are on fire, does that make you a firecrotch?

2006-08-04T12:23:00.000+10:00

Babies look right into the eyes of people they don't know and cry or laugh, but now you just try and look into people's eyes, you'll go nuts before you know it. Just try it, try looking right ito people's eyes, you'll start feeling funny pretty soon...you shouldn't look at things like a baby.

Ryu Murakami, Almost Transparent Blue

When did taking the piss out of redheads become so de rigeur?

Last weekend, I went up to the Blue Mountains with some friends for a Christmas in July do. It was really fun, and exactly what I needed in terms of escaping the city. All except for a series of incidents involving a couple of people - in terms of my involvement, however, it all came down to the girl.

Now, don't get me wrong, I adore the girl. (Here it comes...)

But it always feels like she's wearing some kind of mask. Perhaps it's because I've played that role for much of my life, but I can pick someone acting the victim from a mile away. When
she talks about any guy she's been recently seeing, he's slighted her somehow. I can't help feeling, however, that she's had some part in the relationship breakdown - and that she's not the helpless little chaste girl she would like to portray.

I've lost my redhead ways! Yes, after four months of living with the tangerine nightmare that was my head post-American Crew model for their catwalk show before Easter, I'm now a glorious brunette once more! Yay!

Meanwhile, Lady M has adopted a suspicious patch of carrot on the fringe of her new 'do. Who's the fanta pants now, I ask?

Once in a while, it surprises me how adept I've become at reading people. I'm not saying I necessarily act on it (as much as I should), nor that I will always consciously think about it, but that I pick up on all sorts of tells. It makes me wonder whether I could be a good poker player, if I cared enough about playing the game.

I recently bumped into the ex of one of my BFFs. We went out for a drink and were chatting away pleasantly, but the whole time I wasn't sure what she was telling me was true and what was false. You know how most people will embellish a little when explaining something about their lives to present themselves a little more favourably? Well, this felt more complicated than that, more like she was trying to create a whole new persona not just for presenting to the outside world but also to herself.

I wonder how many times I've done that to myself, whether I'll do it again at some point in the future.

I guess that thought was running through my mind last Saturday night. Our Gracious Hostess and I were discussing our friend, the Little Girl Lost, and her latest predicament - one of the boys at the Do in the Blue, who had just stormed off in the middle of the Christmas Dinner we were at. According to cher hostess, LGL has a reputation for meeting guys, going out with them a few times then realising she's not interested and then just blowing them off. Which would be OK-ish, if it wasn't that the guys tend to be friends (or friends of friends) and work colleagues. (I might add at this point that LGL's story about the sulking gent was that he had not returned her calls after their last date).

After I admitted I'd suspected that the real story was something along those lines, our conversation ended up turning into a discussion about the way I present myself. As such conversations tend to go, I offered an insight that I would not normally face up to:

I dumb things down because it's easier to do so than blast people away with my observations.

Sure it makes me look a little guileless, but that comes in handy once in a while. Like when I blasted the outgoing enfant terrible of the Bloomfield Massive with an unashamedly honest appraisal of her behaviour.

Still, there are lies you tell for the sake of someone's feelings, and the ones which hurt you. I could offer advice to these two friends, but I don't think they would help until they change the way they look at the world.

P.S. Speaking of liars and firecrotch-related matters, I managed to see the video clip for Paris Hilton's first single, Stars are Blind. Despite the fact the song is quite catchy (probably because Paris' voice has been 'produced' so well), the video is quite funny. A few thoughts for you, Ms Hilton:

Don't try to act sexy. That guy's less wooden than you. Hell, the palm trees in the background are less wooden than you.
Don't dance, especially with said palm tree.
That white, flowy, satin smocky thing? I bet the girls at Go Fug Yourself would have a LOT to say about it.
Vaguely unrelated thought: has anyone read the article on Nicole Ritchie in last month's Vanity Faire? She totally denies ever having seen One Night in Paris, let alone hosted a screening. Also? She'll probably make a much better singer and dancer - hell, Lionel adopted Nicole when he and his (now ex-)wife saw her dancing at a Prince concert at the age of three.

UPDATE: It seems Ms Hilton has had some work done on the video clip - check out the version she released as part of the her new YouTube 'channel':

If I were on South Park, I'd look like this...

2006-07-05T12:11:00.000+10:00

Courtesy South Park Studio

Insight: a typical badsd33d work day

2006-07-04T13:00:00.000+10:00

Meetings, emails, etc. and then...

The Big Gay Bank Customer

Observe how we at (unnamed software customer) consider this customer (with one of the other poofs in the office):

bads33d 12:50:16
omg, our latest customer? big gay tax haven, methinks:
http://www.credicoop.com.ar
it's all very pride down south...

Coworker 12:51:03
lol

bads33d 12:51:34
i wonder if it's run by a mysterious man who walks with a cane that has a knife hidden inside

Coworker 12:51:53
hahahha

bads33d 12:51:59
and his wife is a famous cabaret singer who strangely marries his right hand man when he disappears, presumed dead

Coworker 12:52:12
lol

bads33d 12:52:40
i wonder if they have an esoteric bartender who plays guitar with her late at night?!?
12:53:36 i always wanted one of those...

Coworker 12:53:59

bads33d 12:54:03
can you imagine? you walk in, and they're playing 'put the blame on mame' on the speakers...

Bads33dinho

2006-06-26T15:03:00.000+10:00

My Brazilname (the name you would have if you played for the Brazilian soccer team) is "Bincha".

http://www.minimalsworld.net/BrazilName/brazilian.shtml

I guess it's better than "Cardildo" (one of the girls in the office got that one.) Maybe.

Sketch

2006-06-20T18:43:00.000+10:00

Walking home from work, I saw this amazing sight.

This young girl was standing outside of Wynyard station smoking.

She was about 5'10, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail with a red matte ribbon. She wore a tight pink shirt, and this floating, pleated blue dress. Her dark skin seemed to just exaggerate the whole 50s look.

The girl stood legs and back straight, leaning forward by bending at the waist. Her hand was curved round to the side; if she had been standing straight, she could almost be about to execute a pirhouette.

Every time she would go to puff, she would lean in to her unmoving arm. She'd inhale, and then lean further to exhale, her face staring upright into the straight, emotionless. She'd then lean back up slightly, to about 15 degrees below standing straight.

She just kept repeating this motion.

I couldn't work out whether she was a performance artist, a highly mannered smoker or a wanker.

UPDATE: I am officially an arsehole wanker. It turns out the girl is mentally disabled. I, on the other hand, feel really evil.

Better Dead than in Bed (with another soldier)

2006-06-20T11:22:00.000+10:00

Nice to know the armed forces are still as homophobic as ever.

http://www.smh.com.au/news/national/gay-song-joke-link-to-kovco-death/2006/06/20/1150701524936.html

I could write a whole piece on this, but that's kinda QP's domain. Sides, it's kinda comforting to know that you can always rely on conservative groups and individuals to blame horrific events on minority groups:

"The song we were singing was in a female, homosexual way.

"(It was) almost to say this is so gay I would rather be dead.

Who's willing to bet that Soldier 17 wasn't getting any in the squadron showers?

Learning from La Lohan

2006-06-17T14:02:00.001+10:00

Reading the PEN15 Club's blog about Lindsay Lohan's luck with her new film a while ago made me wonder what it is that has made it such a loss.

Not having seen the film (nor really caring what it's like), I can't help but wonder whether there's some truly banal reason for its lack of success. My bet: it's to do with her reputation. Sure it's obvious, and definitely plays into a LOT of stereotypes, especially about women having to look all sugar and spice etc, but the truth of the matter is, she hasn't been doing herself many favours. Until now.

Apparently, the other day La Lohan and that-hideous-bitch-whose-name-kinda-rhymes-with-lard-assand-is-anything-but had a lovely stoush at Butter, which I presume is some sort of nightclub. Or a place where the favoured form of dispute resolution is the one-liner. Quoting Socialite Life quoting Page Six:

Witnesses report Hilton went up to Lohan and shouted, "I can't believe you and Stavros! You are ridiculous!" After taking more insults and curses, Lohan said, "That's how you say hello? I don't need to respond to you." Lohan promptly left. A rep for Lohan said, "Correct. Paris tried to pick a fight with her and started screaming at her, but Lindsay took the high road."

Yes, I believe dating a "friend's" ex is typically taking the high road.

(side note: this does beg the question of why both girls have dated Brandon Firecrotch).

Anyway, full dibs to Lindsay. If only we could all take the high road and snort, vomit and overdye our way to poise and elegance. We all should be so lucky.

(Side note #2: When is kylie going to announce the Australian Showgirl tour dates? QP and I need to start preparing our We-love-Lulus)

When I grow up I want to be a... wuzzle?

2006-06-10T11:14:00.000+10:00

Which Forgotten 80s Cartoon Character Are You?

You are Butterbear from the Wuzzles! No one really knows what to make of you. In fact, your mixed-up personality (and appearance) freaks some people out. That's probably why you weren't on the air for very long. You're not for everyone, but your true friends love your uniqueness.
Take this quiz!

Quizilla |
Join

| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

Love for sale

2006-05-24T17:59:00.000+10:00

Skimming through the local gay rags the other day, noticed this:

Would you like a side of Obvious with that?

2006-05-03T12:51:00.001+10:00

We moved office while I was away sick. Coming in today, I found a sticker on my chair I'd not noticed before, with the following gem of advice:

"CARE SHOULD BE EXERCISED NEAR OPEN FLAME OR WITH BURNING CIGARETTES"

Ummm...

sheep

2006-04-29T11:20:00.000+10:00

I was going to write about my cringe-inducing dream last night, where I ended up at some stupid new-age retreat rolling down hills or something, and then in the final session got so bored I(half-mockingly,half in the manner of a calm counsellor-cum-Marg-Downey-in-Kath-and-Kim) told this absolutely boring twit - after he admitted that the marriage was not going so well because he had "homosexual tendencies" - that he should either a) go screw a boy or b) join up to a married gay guys' counselling group with the missus. But that would be indicative of the crap writing that proliferates on this website, right?

So, instead of boring all with my tale, I'm following the whole trend of looking at which celebrities I most resemble according to myHeritage. Admittedly, I visited this site first about three months ago, but didn't like the results I got from the only half-decent (ok, completely shite) photograph I had of myself on my work computer. From other people's posts on their blogs, the idea seems to be to allow celebrities of both genders, and see who matches you closely. This time, with a decent (somewhat realistic) pic, I get the following ones:

at 70%

Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Yum - I've adored him since Velvet Goldmine.

at 68%

Admittedly, this is quite an old photo of Hugh Grant. Still, Ew.

Tarkan, some Turkish popstar. As usual, I've chosen a better pic than the one myHeritage gives me (for one thing, there's no gel or fugly goatee involved in this one...*shudder*). On the upside, a quick Google reveals him to be a flaming homo who is most famous for his single Şımarık (Holly Valance did it as Kiss Kiss). Big surprise there.

Now, that's more like it. Wolvericious. (Yes, 'tis Hugh Jackman)

64%

Admittedly, I loved Anne Hathaway in bareback mounting - just for that scene where she's on the phone with Ennis. Not enough to want to look like her, though.

I couldn't stop laughing when this one came up - as if I look anything like Andie Macdowell. You may as well have given me Malcolm.

63%

mmmm, Ian Somerhalder. I knew there was a reason I should start watching Lost. (Obviously, it's not going to be Charlie from Party of Five.)

Ok, I could stop there, but the next one is just too funny.

62%

Pene, you used to be so cute. Then you dated that closet-case couch jumper. What happened to the decent Cruz?
Incidentally, I wonder what QueerPenguin makes of this one?

This last one was too good to pass up. I wonder if I could pull off a drag version of Holly Hunter in Broadcast News?

PS. Apologies to the random websites I have ripped off for these pics - I admit full responsibility for my appalling lack of netiquette. Still, it's not like more than five people will read this.

Vale June Pointer

2006-04-13T13:14:00.000+10:00

She ain't so excited no more. *Sniff*

http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifThe Queerty version of events

Now who's Lady M going to run around the house dancing to before we hit another party?

More importantly, the Pointer Sisters were originally a country act?!?

Reasons I will never purchase anything from Retravision or Homezone Digital

2006-04-10T16:03:00.000+10:00

I'm sure we've all read bitchy rants like this before, so if you're not interested in hearing this one, skip this post and jump to my Catherine Keener lovefest.

I know I usually don't post stuff about work on here, but this is just a warning for anyone considering purchasing or renting whitegoods through Retravision or its appliances/whitegoods arm, HomeZone Digital. You know, that or all five members of my collective audience.

Well, and the fact I'm so pissed off about this whole situation.

Our work microwave started playing up a few weeks ago, and the boss asked me to purchase a new one. The best available one I could find within the specs was from HomeZone Digital, so I ordered it online.
A few days later, I received a phone call from the head of HomeZone's online ordering department, a friendly sounding guy whom I shall call Jonti (because that is his real name). He requested credit card details for payment, and assured me we would be receiving the invoice in the mail and the microwave would be delivered over the next few days. So far, so good.
Two days later, Jonti emails me. Apparently the model we had ordered is no longer produced - he suggests one or two other models that they're willing to deliver instead. I go with one of them, and assume that's that.
A whole week passes. No microwave - we do receive the invoice, though. I try calling Jonti on the direct number listed on the email signature after emailing him a few times - goes straight through to voicemail every time. No response from Jonti after a few of these messages, so I call him on the mobile. He assures me he will call me back in 10 minutes when I speak to him. Funnily enough, he never calls.
A week and a half passes - admittedly, because I'm busy doing the work I'm supposed to be doing when I'm not chasing dodgy suppliers. Finally, I get back to chasing Jonti.

After several phone calls and emails with no response, I try calling the store listed on the invoice (Bondi Junction). There, I get to speak to not one, but two sales assistants who tell me that Jonti actually doesn't report to anyone bar head office, as he's a department all on his own. After listening to this crap one more time (having left a voicemail message in Jonti's inbox where I threatened to start a formal complaint through Consumer Affairs), I convince the assistant to contact head office for me (they won't give me the number). I take a deep breath, and wait exactly one day.

When I haven't heard from her in that time, I call the Bondi Junction store. The phone is answered by some random guy who puts me on hold for ten minutes before hanging up on me. I call again, and he answers once more. I let fly at him - I point out how rude it is to hang up on someone, and not even be courteous enough to let them know the person they're trying to contact is busy. He puts me through to the assistant, who lets me know Head Office still haven't got back to her before putting me through to the Store Manager.

I explain my case, the Store Manager agrees that the whole situation is screwed (it's now three weeks since I paid for the microwave and we haven't seen it or even heard when it will be delivered.) He arranges for it to be delivered the next Monday (that would be today).

And the fun does not stop there. In the last fifteen minutes, I've received two phone calls from the delivery guy trying to weasel out of delivering the bloody thing today - saying it might be easier if he delivers tomorrow or next week or something. I politely told him it will be here by 6.30 or else.

Now, if only I could find the number for head office... And Consumer Affairs.

UPDATE: The delivery guy actually did his job! He turned up after all his pissing and moaning with the microwave only 30 mins after the last phone call. Meanwhile, I decided to screw this shit - I can't be bothered having anything more to do with Retravision and a formal complaint would only waste more of my precious time.

I heart Catherine Keener

2006-04-09T12:30:00.000+10:00

I'm not much of a morning person. Even less so a morning television person. Ever since Steve Liebman left Today, I just don't bother. And it's not like he was that fantastic either, just likeable.

I could happily shoot his replacement, that annoying toothy guy with no personality whose name escapes me. But I reserve special vile for the hosts of Sunrise. I mean, Kochie was not particularly interesting to start off with, but to team him up with the insipid Melissa Doyle is like a double hit of poison.

Which is possibly why I have been hanging out for Catherine Keener to get on one of these shows and shoot Mel and Kochie down a la her performance on the American Today show the other day.

I finally saw Capote with a friend the other day, and I have to say, she's my fave female actor of the moment. Her presence as Harper Lee is just so amazing I can't help but gush when talking about her. And to hear about her reprising in real life something we've seen her do previously on screen (and so well - think John Malkovich), makes me - along with the fabulous Rob at PEN15 (who is now officially my new blogger crush) - want to see the video clip of the incident so much.

Not that I particularly care much about 'box of hair' Aniston that much - s - it's just great to have a public figure defending the otherwise useless from insipid morons.

I wonder, who wants to start a 'Catherine Keener for Class President' fanclub with me?

Poor Schapelle...

2006-03-18T10:30:00.000+11:00

If you ever need proof just how much of a joke Schapelle Corby is in Indonesian circles:

http://www.schapellecorbytours.com/

Yes! You too can meet Schapelle, offer her food, and - for a nominal fee - sit in the cell with her, wake her in the morning or even feed her!

Just be aware: "Although it is almost certain that you will see Schapelle on the tour, sightings cannot be guaranteed – if Schapelle is sick, she may not be on display."

big fish, little fish

2006-02-27T15:43:00.000+11:00

i'm sick at the moment. second time in 8 weeks. my doctor tells me it's due to stress.

debating whether to bother going to the mardi gras party this weekend.

wondering how much more bs i can put up with in my job before i involuntarily blurt out i'm quitting.

of course, the incessant house arrest i've put myself in to recover has ended with cabin fever - which inevitably leads to me analysing my life at the moment. typically, i'm not happy.

W thinks i should just take a deep breath, pack up all my emotions into a little box and then continue getting by until i've managed to get hold of a new job, but i just want out as soon as possible.

Ksquared think i should just appreciate the german boi (going on 5 weeks now), but i just want to see him more often than once a week.

Most of all, I want to clear any residual BS and get going on the next stage of my life. Why is that so difficult for me?

BYO life

2006-02-08T17:18:00.000+11:00

Buggered if I understand this.

Where Macramé is not a dirty word...

2006-02-08T10:48:00.000+11:00

Heh.

What will those darn kids think of next?

2006-01-28T18:21:00.000+11:00

This from popbitch this week (I know, cheating):

>> Parlez-vous Popbitch <<
Get ready to be Seagulled

Happy Slapping is so 2005. To be too cool for school these days you have to do the Seagull.

In schools all over London, apparently, break-times are seeing boys running into the bogs to masturbate furiously, collect their jizz in the palms of their hands, then go out and find a younger kid.... then slap them in the face while shouting "SEAGULL!"

Try it in the office when you're bored.

??Whatever happened to the Scotch Finger biscuit? (Or is that reference a little too Melburnian?)

Familiar Plots

2006-01-28T15:40:00.000+11:00

We got a family plot. And like it or not, he's going in there.

Without ruining the storyline completely for those who haven't seen it, that's kinda the seminal line for Brokeback Mountain. Walking around Oxfordia on Thursday night after watching it, I had a string of convos about how this film is affecting individual gaybois and dykes. One thing came up more than anything.

It's not quite what I expected - and the fact I was responding the same way was equally surprising.

I expected a little bit of a cliched response, to be frank. Something like 'Oh wow, that film was so important, and uplifting. It's so good to see ourselves represented like it is.' You know, cos so many of us are ranch hands who discover our sexuality while herding sheep. This of course would include gushing about Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal (and outright lusting after the two). Although let's be honest, boys: there aren't many of us who wouldn't lust after either (or both). The usual gushing would last about two days and then some new film would come along with equally cute leading men.

That was not quite what I saw. Sure, we all want to have Jake &/or Heath's babies (I'd be happy with both), but every conversation showed more of an introspective queer audience. The movie seems to have opened something up in us, maybe forced us to confront issues we'd much rather ignore. About the attitudes of people we care about but who will never accept us, or the issues in our lives we have had to just get by with rather than overcome, or something deepseated that we have not been able to face. Everyone I've spoken to has come back with a slightly haunted look in their face. There's something truly haunting about Brokeback - it's sure got into us good.

Official Movie Site

Word of the Day

2006-01-20T16:18:00.000+11:00

In an attempt to improve my vocabulary, I am instituting an occasional word of the day. Today's word is:

Fucktard. n. [concat. retard AND fuckwit.]
cf. George W Bush, Jr

Unfortunately, neither the Oxford, Mirriam-Webster nor Dictionary.com seem to have a definition for this word. The rest of us will continue to use it to refer to various people in our lives, and those of our loved ones.

Or Britney Spears' husband.

How do you say? Inevitable?

2006-01-20T11:01:00.000+11:00

It had to happen.

Whatever happened to Brangelina?

2006-01-19T14:06:00.000+11:00

Cast your mind back around 8 years ago:

No, not Wacko Jacko's wedding.

Can you remember when Brad left Gwyn for ~~Rachel~~ Jennifer? (Remember her? She of the mid-nineties hair?)

Walking down Martin Place this morning, I came across this image:

Now, as far as I remember, didn't the ~~cum~~ rags have a ball for months afterwards telling everyone who bothered to listen how devastated Gwyneth was after they broke up? Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't she up the duff the second time, to the highly ~~annoying and yet somewhat~~ talented Chris Martin at the same time that the tabloids take us through the whole Jennifer Aniston post-Brad breakup saga?

Sides, isn't Jen supposed to be in love with Brad's bff? And why does every woman who dates Brad have to go through some heart-wrenching saga every time he breaks up with her? XXX-Brad-XXX triangles are so passe~~, especially when they don't involve me~~. I mean, it's not like he looks like this any more:

If you're wondering why I am even bothering writing about this, blame his Queer Penguinness. He started it.