Sunday, November 30, 2008

They call me Mushroom Chunks

Saturday Night

Confusion: when you're vomiting into a bucket and all you see are mushroom chunks.. I dont remember eating any??? did I at some stage of the night in my horrific drunkenness buy a bag of mushrooms or something??? a mystery for the ages.

Closeness: when you get home and pass out naked on the floor of your sister-in-law-in-law's bathroom, then you finally get into bed and she's naked, and everyone has a nice sleep in the nude together. Nothing like a naked sleep to bond a friendship.

Kill-Joy: first i'm not allowed to dance on the deck, then i'm not allowed to put the umbrella up to dance in the rain, then i'm not allowed to fall in the fountain.. pfft whatever. you might be the most "exclusive" club around but you certainly have a lot of rules that ruin a good time.

Imagination Hotness: when you're dancing in the rain and flicking your hair around and think you must look like a supermodel in a filmclip, then you get home and realise you look like a rubbish bin, ripped stocking, mushroom chunks, blood.

Injured: arse-bruise, burn on hand, left leg completely fucked up, two cuts - one major... if I had known these were these consequences of falling into the fountain then I wouldn't have taken the "shortcut" now would I??

Walk-Spew: when you walk two steps and spew, and it takes you about half an hour to walk the 200 meters to the front door.

Saturday Day

Uncoordination: who plays badminton anyways?? unfortunately the highly unpredictable 'winds of glebe' put a stop to that game.

Hobo Picnic: ever picniced under a train-line in a wind tunnel? all we needed was a burning garbage bin and we would have had a virtual reality simulation of what being homeless would be like.. although I dont think homeless people have eskys and ice.

Fishmarket Kidnappers: no you crazy kidnapper i'm sure that nice little girl doesn't want to "see where the real fishermen live"

Crab Socks: when you buy 3 crabs and then realise you don't have any napkins, so you have to resort to taking your socks off and using them... which is worse?? using socks to clean your hands? or wearing socks home with crab juice on them??

Friday Night

Being Cool: when you're at a play opening and you realise that Dan Wyllie is in the room, and you are obsessed with the show 'love my way' so you walk straight up to him and become best friends with him and his wife.

and that's my weekend.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Things In Hammocks

How good are Hammocks. This Christmas season I am going to far north queensland for Hammock Time. I will be living in this thing. Nothing relaxes like a hammock. The world would be a far more chillaxed place if we could all take a little time out to get some quality hammock time in our daily lives.

Squirrel in a Hammock: Nuts what??? zzzzzz

Dog in a Hammock: Bones Shmones

Mouse in a Hammock: cheese dreams

Bear in a Hammock
: I dont know what a bear stresses about, but he looks pretty relaxed to me... Deadly.. but Relaxed.

Yip Yip Yip

If there is one thing I love in this world. It's MUPPETS. I love Jim Henson. My childhood is marked with Jim Henson videos. Nothing beats a good Jim Henson film.

Which is why if you love Muppets like I do - you need to read this:

The 8 Most Underrated Muppets

Grover aside, I loved the little guys who lived in Ernies flowerbox. So cute.

I feel sorry for my unborn children who have to grow up in a world with 'Sanitised' Sesame Street. How good can a TV show be if the writers aren't on acid? I learnt so much about the world from 80's Sesame Street. If I had to choose my dream job, it would be to work at the Jim Henson studios in LA.

Die Elmo.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

An artist could change my mind

so. Gordon Wood is guilty.. or soo it would seem.
This 'artist' seems to think he's innocent

i dunnno!!!!!!! he is an artist..
he's wearing rabbit fur and his name is Basquali (sounds like basquiat)

I'm confused... I could be swayed of my position on the accused.

If life has taught me anything, it's that artists and famous trendy socialite's in exotic locations, often know a lot more things about police business than law officials and public defenders, than the rest of us stupid general public morons are lead to believe.

What does Paris Hilton think about this situation???????


Ok. lets just go back to this story for a second: BULLSHIT

I don't know how they do things in London, but here in sydneytown our deorderant bottles read: (in bold) do not spray near flame and some shit about it's propensity for explosiveness. Then in a much smaller font it goes on about:

intentional misuse may be harmful or fatal

and typical garb about not spraying near the eyes or face.

Let's go back to the story in the news about the kid dying in his bathroom from spraying a can of deoderant. Nowhere does it state that simply spraying the deoderant for riddance of the stench of spunk from whence the day pervails will fucking kill you.


Maybe put that in the bold, large and easy to read font on every can. It's bound to sell a million!!

What sort of fucked up advertising campaign do you come up with to combat that sort of product defective-ness?

Roll-On forever
Spray-On never

Kenicky Dies

This just in... kid dies from overspraying deoderant.

Of all the stupid ways to die.. this rates up there with one of the best... i guess it would be pretty embarrassing to be the smelly kid at school, hey I remember teasing to death this kid called steven stoker.

"steven stoker stiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnkssssss!!!!!!!" we'd proudly shout from the corners of the schoolyard.

That kid didnt have a chance, not when you smell like shit everyday..(like...Poo. badly)

So I can kinda understand this kid's over-enthusiastic exuberance of having a 10 minute spray-a-thon in the bathroom...

still... rates up there highly as a dumb way to go. am I right or am I right?

Still it would be a far more less likely story for dear old Jeff Conaway, mr drug fucked deluxe.

I miss Jeff Conaway. Bring on Celebrity Rehab 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Child Abducted

I am very sad and alarmed to bring you news up to date of a very serious abudction that is taking place as we speak... (read..)

Nicole Kidmans baby "sunday roast" is abducted.

TRAGEDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's a tradgedy (bom bom bom bom tish bom bom tish.. very serious national nine news alert music plays)

Sunday Roast has indeed been kidnapped. what a tragedy. traffic slowed to a hazy 55km/ph whilst they read breaking news reports that Sunday had indeed been kidnapped by a Suzuki Vitara. Serial Number: VSI056.

Well if its not Sunday Roast then I don't know who the hell it is. Who is that important enough to warrant an offical public announcement of a child abduction on a freeway?? these issues complexed and confused us from the drive home from Kensington on a weary saturday night.

Twas the eve of Laura's party,and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a cat with a stick from the outside land. We had brought said stick in from the outside as a prop for Laura's party, but because of high wind resistance and rising Public Transport reasons we drove the car in, instead.

Noone wants to hear about child abductions on the way home from a party.
What a way to kill a high.
Would they do that sort of announcement for just any old hick? or would celebrity babies be the only ones entitiled to that sort of instant behaviour.

Can you IMAGINE how embarrasing it would be to go to a Harry Potter dress up party and get a proper outfit from a costume hire shop and rock up with a beard and a star spangled wizard outfit... that would be uncomfortable.

..................... hope they find that kid.

Tell me if this would be weird or not: PUBLIC POLL

Do you think it would be weird to be followed around by one paparazzi person??.. just one person jumping out from behind bushes and garbage bins. do you think that person was a crazy stalker, just plain crazy, or an anonymous paparazzi photographer.

I think that's pretty weird.

Friday, November 21, 2008

My Milkshake brings all the boys to the Agency

I have been BUSY the past couple of weeks, as it is 'Graduation Season' in the actors realm, and that means going to showcases, watching performances, judging actors, and trying to get the best ones to sign with us. Of a graduation class, there is often about 3 actors who are hot shit, you know these guys are going to be big, and you want to ride on the tails of their success whilst taking 10% of their millions for your own pocket, and honing in on red carpet events and film premiers.

This year we met with the top 5 actors of NIDA. We are up against other agencies like Shanahans who have every single hot australian actor on thier books, and are really hard to compete with. It is like they are the bride and we are the bridesmaid, except rather than being the bridesmaid, we're the caterer who doesn't speak english and we delivered the cake to the wrong address.

We hold our actor meetings in a cafe on Bondi Beach, and try to distract them with the views of the ocean and look cute as I shove my boobs in their face and talk about current film projects in production and upcoming TV dramas.

However, there is one tried and tested tactic that always works in breaking the ice in a scary meeting environment, it can be intimidating for a young graduate to go into a meeting with two power pussies, so I always break the tension by ordering a banana smoothie, or vanilla milkshake.

Never underestimate the power of a milkshake. It's hard to be intimidating in a meeting when you're all slurping away on straws and milk. It's like "i'm real, you're real, lets just drink our smoothies and cut the shit"

It worked anyway - we got two of them, and the other three went un-surprisingly to the other agency.

Hooray for Milk! and Boobies.

Monday, November 10, 2008

We can hang out, but I won't sleep the night.

I'm a bit of a princess. There are some luxuries in life that I just won't budge on. Sleep is one of them.

In my past experience of 28 years of being an avid sleeper, I can tell you that no good sleep can come from staying at someone else's place. It's all bad. Bad blankets, bad pillows, bad ventilation, bad sleep.

I can hark back to many a sleepless night, which is etched into my brain, because how can you forget staring at some strange ceiling for 8 hours straight?? I know I have a very low threshold for discomfort, but seriously, what sort of person can sleep properly on a 2 seater couch? or in the back of a car??

One particularly horrible sleep experience was one time when I was staying at a family friends house in the hills of Byron. Damn Hippies. It comes as no surprise that these tick infested smelly hippies wouldn't think twice about sleeping in the spider infested caravan, considering they had a snake living in their kitchen. I slept with one eye open all night, too scared to move in case something slithered across me and ate me in the middle of the night.

And whilst we're at it - Futons are never an acceptable form of bedding to offer to someone. "here sleep on a lumpy sack of rice"... oh gee thanks!! Mmmm concrete.

Because of these traumatising sleepless experiences, I am always really wary of possible sleep situations that can arise if I am put into a new sleeping environment, because I can guarantee you that if I don't get some decent REM, then i'm never staying over again.

Hence - after this heinous Shappelle Corby experience, I have to say, I will never leave the security of my own bedroom ever again.

You know what that is? a deflated air mattress (essentially a rubber flooring)..A fitted sheet with which to wrap around oneself... and an itchy blanket from Peru.

Erghhh.. I don't know if I'll ever recover. On the plus side, at least I didn't get nits, and no ice addicts broke in, but still, mark can't turn his head left anymore, and I have a sinus infection.

So basically, if the only sleeping arrangement on offer is a spider infested caravan, a fucked up futon that slants to one side, or a prison mattress on the floor, don't expect to see me for any overnight visits again anytime soon.

I loooooooove my bed!!!!!!!!

Friday, November 07, 2008


I learned of a great thing today chickipedia the wikipedia of hot chicks. They even showcased the 100 hottest chicks, the usual list, jenna jameson this, gisele bundchen that, normal list of hotness

umm wtf is this?!

This zombie trainwreck is number #36!!!
A flat chested hunchbacked girlyboy

hmm maybe I didn't fully understand the point of the list.. perhaps it was hottest chicks as voted for by the blind

And whilst we're talking blind talk - let's do a little "Keira Knightly for the Blind"
Sounds like: a rumbling stomach and a windtunnel
Smells like: expensive french perfume to cover the lingering vomit smells
Tastes like: angels and starvation

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Jazzy Hoorays


I can only hope that now the era of retribution begins, against all stupid whiteys..

Bring in the "no whities" benches in parks policy. It's only fair.
Whitey Slavery (2 whites for a dollar)

Us whitey crackers have had it good for too long. What with our Seinfeld Marathons, and various types of cheeses.

Bring in the year of the fried chicken.
Bluesy Soul Jazz Music played everywhere.
Rather than dropping bombs on people we'll drop joints and harmonicas.
No more cracker discos and bad dancing, we'll have Jive Houses (no whitey dancing whatsoever)
No more whitey sneakers.
No more whitey boy-bands.

Imagine the party going on at Oprah's right now. I bet she's leaving an oil slick of excitement everywhere she goes.

Re-Release "The Color Purple" - the 2008 hating on whities edition!!!!

Boo You McCain Frozen Peas.

Sunday, November 02, 2008

the Art of Ransom

I don't know about you but I love weekends. A nice laaaaaaazy weekend, going to the gym, doing laundry, wearing comfy pants, and writing threatening letters to good friends.

Noone writes good ransom notes anymore. Whilst I am not into the act of kidnapping, I am into a well written threatening note to instill fear. A ransom note gets across a point that a simple agressive voicemail, facebook wall post, or psychotic email fails to do.

However, the art of writing a mentally deranged threatening note isn't as easy as you may think, at first I thought I would pre-write the note, then after an hour of scouring through magazines looking for the words I wanted to use, I decided to let the note write itself.

You can't force artistic psycho killer sentences, you have to let go and let the words find you. "Hell, Kill, Bones, Stab, Fuck Rabbit". These are all words that came to me, that were crying out to be used in my vision.

Well.. I don't think Mark'll be borrowing anyones snowboard anytime soon. Not after i'm done with him.. "borrowing" his skin to make a lamp.... but that's next weekends activity

Mwahhhhhhhh haaaaaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!