Saturday, January 31, 2009

Jealous Bitches

Today I went horse-riding in Glenworth Valley.. which turned out to be the MYER of horse-riding. A billion horses, lines, dumb helmets, cashiers with no idea.. and haters.

I have been looking forward to horse-riding all week. The most important thing about any activity is the outfit you put together to mark the occasion. I had been coming up with costume ideas all week. Everybody pooh-poohed my idea to wear inappropriately tiny shorts for chaffing reasons, and a bikini and an akubra hat seemed too pornographic.

So I came up with this ensemble which seemed pretty suitable to me.

Suitable Pants, cowgirl top, pigtails, horse brooch, brown belt to match my brown suede boots.

Nothing says country to me like suede, and these boots are the most comfortable shoes I have ever worn besides slippers, so I was really quite shocked with the midget who wrangled my horse for me came up to me and told me in a very snide tone that my shoes were "in-appropriate" for horse-riding.

Hey hobbit, I know in these boots I am about twice your size, but I have worn these boots horse-riding before, the ball of my foot rests nicely in the stirrups and I dont have to worry about my foot falling out of them because my heels keep me locked in. So what's the problem biatch??

But no, she wanted me to know that my overwhelming hotness was not appreciated in fugly country horse town.

"they are stilletos! you wear them to a disco, but not on a horse, it's very inappropriate that you would wear them out here"

disco?? clearly you have never left the paddock you were born in. Besides the guy that checked me into the paddock in the first place didn't have a problem with my footwear, what's with all the sand in your vagina??

I made a vain attempt to try and reason with her that I have ridden a horse before, in said shoes, and that the heel is only 2 cm longer than her heel, besides I signed the waiver form that says if I break my neck you aren't responsible so what's the big deal? but she wouldn't have a bar of it...

She told me I had to go into the shed and wear a pair of free boots. Ugly Ugly Boots. She was so jealous of my horse outfit hotness that she took away my powerboots and made me wear the ugliest shoes I have ever seen. I had to be marched off the field with the rest of our group waiting for me like a naughty child. Humiliating.

The boots were so gross. They had dumb writing on them, which was not cool, and I hadnt shaved my legs in a week, nor fake tanned, plus I had stupid socks on. So now without my uber-cool-supermodel outfit, I just looked like a jerk on a horse. damn you jockeylady.

Anyway, we finally set off with the group. My horse was so retarded and refused to leave the side of this other horse, so I had to ride with my knee in the asshole of the bigger horse on my lefthand side. I swear they did this on purpose to me. He refused to canter, and spent the whole trip sticking his head up other horses butts.

Well I finally learnt my lesson. Don't turn up to Glenworth Valley in a carefully planned outfit for horse-riding that accentuates your sexiness, as you will be stripped down, put in your place, marched off, and forced to ride a horse that apparently doesnt speak the international language of horses and reigns..("yahhhh" didnt seem to work either) and you'll have to wear ugly embarrasing shoes, and show off your white hairy legs to the whole group.

Not Cool Glenworth Valley. Not Cool.

Virtuoso Guitar Hero

Growing up, I gained all my good taste in music, from my dad, I went to Pink Floyd concerts (not knowing who they were "who are these old grandpas!!! I wanna see New Kids on the Block!") I know the entire Beatles collection by heart, and have a diverse taste in music these days thanks to my stimulating musically aware upbringing.

So when my dad asked me if I wanted to go see Jeff Beck with him I was like "who?" lucky a magic place of knowledge exists at my fingertips, so a quick surf on wikipedia gave me all I needed to know...

Jeff Beck seemed pretty cool, he played with Jimmy Page before he formed Led Zepplin, he almost joined The Rolling Stones... he's a pretty cool cat.

Jeff was playing at the Enmore Theatre, and I got a glimpse into my distant future.. old people standing around waiting for someone famous, whilst the 20 year olds have no idea who the fuck they are seeing. Dudes with sideburns.. and no hair on their head.. Chicks with boobs down to the floor, Stevie Nicks clones, grey hair, grey hair, grey hair. I can't wait to be old and buy tickets to a Daniel Johns concert playing solo in an RSL, Cheap drinks and comfortable chairs. thats what I'm talking about!

anyway, Jeff came out and yeah, he was pretty fucking amazing.

Fender Strat. No plectrum. Jeff don't need no stupid plectrum getting in the way of his magic fingers. He douses his hands in talcum powder in-between songs, and looked like Keith Richards' non-drug addict, better playing, younger cousin. He looked predicably british - white scarf, and a vest, leather pants and guns.. yeah he might be about 200 years old, but I wouldn't complain if I woke up underneath him after a hazy night with black holes missing from my memory.

The highlight, besides seeing Jeff shredding, was seeing Tal Wilkenfeld, the 22-year-old Sydney bass prodigy, I don't know how he found her, but she is the most amazing bass player I have ever seen. Incredible.

It's times like this I wish I had a talent. Besides being able to queef on demand (but after copius pilates lessons I realise that this talent might not be so special)

damn you really talented people who I had no idea existed until last night. damn you to riches.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Sexy Cartoon Man

It's not often I get turned on by a pile of pixels. But phwoooar!!!! Beowulf is one hot pretend man

mmmmmm, sexy.

Whilst the movie itself was kinda lame, Beowulf is allll man. Plus he gets naked constantly.

Napping - naked
Killing a monser - naked
Swinging on a chandelier - naked
Going into a mysterious cave - naked

It's what Lord of the Rings should have been like. Way more nudity. That fight at the end would have been really good if Aragorn was nude. The hobbits might have looked a bit funny, but its not often you see a nude hobbit. you missed your chance peter jackson.

Anyway - Beowulf is all man. Plus i'm pretty sure those ingenius animators put a little beowulf peen in there for the ladies.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Trapped

Earth bores me.



Even if you want to go on a holiday to shake the boredom loose. You're still trapped on earth.
Same air
Same trees
Same sun
Same water
Same gravitational pull
You can't escape any of these things. Even the most amazing pyramid tour in egypt is still going to be trapped in the boundaries of our existance on earth.
Earth is a speck.
Why can't we go to jupiter for a change?
20% less gravity would be an awesome holiday. You could just float down to the shops to eat some really weird alien food.. go for a swim in a ocean with the consistency of jelly. Walk on water. Sunbake under beams with no bad UV and get a brazillian supermodel tan in 10 minutes.
Wouldnt it be nice to see some other creatures? i'm sick our our plants and animals. I'd like to meet a 2 headed 50 foot octopus -who was working behind the bar.
Our solar system is just a cosmic anomaly. We only exist because we happen to be the exact distance we need to be from the sun, a meteor crashed here with water, and the moon gives us that annoying gravitation pull.
I'm so sick of gravity. I don't even think it exists. It's all just dark matter I reckon. Dark matter? doesn't matter.
Does anyone else stay up for hours wondering what the hell?? the universe does my head in.
Should we even be here? humans think we're so important but we're just a virus on a pin-head sized planet.
Man.
I bet they dont have to worry about this shit in the Andromeda Galaxy.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Remind me not to move here

So, having a reallllly busy day at work today..not... so I have been trawling through the trading post looking for things that I have absolutely no interest in buying.

Hey, remind me never to move here: 365 Springvale Road.

sung to the tune of TEMPERATURE (sean paul)

Well no I dont wanna live in the apartment next to that place
and wake up in the middle of the night with a tarantula on my face
Lord no, I gotta find a better place to live than in this dive
When I go to bed I dont wanna be eaten alive. oh oh!

Thursday, January 15, 2009

War of the Roses..a pain in the ass.

Last night I went to Opening Night of 'War of the Roses' and no they haven't adapted that Kathleen Turner/Michael Douglas movie for the stage. War of the Roses is an 8 hour Epic of 4 Shakespeare plays, spanning 100 years of historical bloodshed between two royal houses.

8 hours. Yes that's right 8 hours. In one sitting. Wtf?! what masochist thought this up. My ass felt like it had been injected with Novocain. Plus I generally peak at 90 minutes of theatre before my ADD brain zones out.

But seriously. 8 hours?? I struggled through the first half. Its so hard to follow Shakespeare on stage as it is, and then to have it all weirded out and in some non-conventional setting and crazy hip hop music.. I really didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

Part II begins and this was even more confusing than the first half, It was all about Richard III, and it was all historial Shakespeare madness talk. They had this stuff floating down like snow so that was kinda cool.. For an hour. I was dying. I was praying for it to end. I did butt crunches in my seat for the last hour and a half. Plus they had these annoying kids in the second half and for some reason people seem to think little kids on stage are heartwarming or something? Yeah no.

'War of the Roses' marks the final performance by the Actors Company through the Sydney Theatre Company, so this final mainstage production was always going to be megalomaniac. They did however use Cate Blanchett as a ploy to try and make you forget that you are sitting through 8 hours of incomprehensible Shakespeare talk, which wears thin after the first 20 minutes. Even with Cate 'the best actress in the world' Blanchett.

I don't dislike Shakespeare, but I would prefer to read it, or watch a Baz Luhrman dumbed down version. Basically I want to see Michael Bay do Shakespeare, less talk, more cars exploding. I'm a commercial hack.

After the show was finished, and I was about 5 years older and had formed a close relationship with god through prayer "please please please let this be over!!" so I went to the after party.

Lucky there were lots of credible celebrities there to take the edge off (read: no fucking home and away losers or reality television skanks) Joel Edgerton, Robyn McLeavy, Brendan Cowell, Hugo Weaving, Dan Wyllie (I had to resist temptation to go up to him again) Cate Blanchett, and zillions of others, at this stage I was too tired to care, and didn't even partake in the free champagne. I just wanted to go home and drown out the ye olde speak running through my head, plus I didn't trust myself not to say something offensive to someone about the show, as the best I could come up with when asked for my opinion was "interesting and abstract"

But I did pose for a few photos before I left and had a Serena van der Woodsen "shine" moment..Plus I think Matt Newton gave me sexy eyes, or maybe he was squinting in my direction??? Later today when I wake up I can google myself and see how hot I looked, as I did have on inappropriately tiny 'formal' shorts, 8 inch killer heels, and a sic fake tan I'd been working on all morning..... why the hell didn't Dan Wyllie come up to me???

xoxo Gossip Girl

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Mihuzban Syndrome

In my spare time from being awesome, I also like to partake in a bit of science. And I think I have discovered the chromosomal disorder which can be found in many people around the globe...mainly Husbands.

It is called 'mihuzban syndrome' and it is based on my husband.

'Mihuzban's' as they shall be referred to, refers to a special group of people who are really annoying and attention seeking.

Symptoms: You know when you're driving home from work in the car together and your husband wont shut up and talks a million miles an hour, telling pointless stories, telling jokes, pausing for applause and looks at your expectantly for a reaction. This is classic Mihuzban syndrome behaviour.

Diagnosis: Usually when confronted with someone suffering from Mihuzban syndrome, the typical reaction is to go into ignoring mode, which will usually heighten the amount of annoying things they will do and will make them become irritated and occasionally aggressive. If your husband comes into the room and won't shut up and calls you a bitch for not listening to his stupid story then he is probably carrying the Mihuzban syndrome gene.

Causes/Risk Factors: There is nothing worse than when you're sitting on the couch and your husband comes in and tries to take over the foxtel box, and whinges about every program you suggest, and then gets on his computer and clicks the mouse really loud looking for a reaction and an argument. Then he jumps on you and won't leave you alone so you tell him he needs to cut his hair and that will give him something to do whilst he looks at himself in the mirror for a few hours. Rest assured you won't be getting any peace and quiet for a while when he's having a Mihuzban episode

Treatment: Unfortunately there is no known cure for Mihuzban syndrome, however the best tactic for handling the problem is to placate them a little and feign interest in their dumb repetitive stories and lame jokes. But don't look toooo interested otherwise they will get a big head and that will lead to even worse Mihuzban's.

The Doctor is Out.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Take a walk on the wrongtown

One post of mine gets a regular comment bashing about once a month. Die Slouch Boots Die really hits a nerve with some people. I guess because they brought a pair of these dumb boots and dislike having the fugly truth in their faces.

A recent hater: I love slouch boots and think you are silly to impose your opinion onto others. You don't have to like them; just keep your thoughts to yourself. I'm sure there are things you do/wear that other's dislike, right?

Well Anon, if there's one thing you should know it's that keeping your thoughts to yourself is not what a blog is for, this is my mental diarrhea outlet. And it's my bloggy right to say my outright disgust for fugly shoes, if you don't like reading it, why don't you guage your eyes out with a pen?

We are entering a new season however, and stinkin Slouch Boots are a thing of the past. I'm sure some hideous boots will creep onto the scene over winter, but for now it is summer and we have a new perpetrator of ugly.

Gladiator Shoes.

FUGMO!!!!!!

Yeah thats a good look. It looks really good on overweight short chicks whose already unforgiving frame now look about 2 foot tall with these abominations strapped to them. Is everybody in the midst of fighting a lion or two in their spare time?? Maybe you should fight to the death like they did in the old days, and whoever wins doesn't have to wear these ugly shoes anymore.

These are by far the worst shoes I have ever come across. Is it just me or do other people think that these shoes make people look like a baked ham?

Gross.

The Summer 09 Fashion Victim award goes to: Baked Ham Shoes.

Friday, January 09, 2009

Skillz for the Apocalypz

I often think about taking up pole dancing classes. Then I think of the explaining you'd have to do to people who would immediately assume you were a stripper/prostitute, and I forget the idea all together - that is until the thought of the apocalypse invades my dreams whilst I sleep and I wake up and start to think about cultivating some skills to get me through the broken society of a post-apocalyptic warzone.

Let's face it. I have no tangible skills to offer the world. I don't think the world of rubble is going to need 'Theatrical Agents' how many movies are we making in this shitty existance? and if noones going to see Theater now, then I think the chances are even less when half the population is blown to smithereeens.

Nope. I am going to be really fucked if this happens. So I have decided to work on some skills that I can use should the situation require it. And if movies have taught me nothing else, it's that futuristic civilisations living in garbage, need whores.

Everybody loves a pole dancing whore in the future. You got your soldiers who are fighting the machines, you got your sleazy aliens, and your drunken slobs, a whore can really get through the economic crisis if she has the right moves.

So that is why I am going to get pole dancing lessons. Plus if we happen to survive a nuclear holocaust, then I might be lucky enough to grow an extra boob, and I know that people are going to want to pay money to see freaky shit like that.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Tits McGee Drinking Game

Being that it is summer, and summer means more drinking. Much more drinking, it seems only natural that you would partake in a friendly drinking game.. however I find drinking games really hard to follow. I just don't get them, so I just sit in the corner drinking my sorrows that I am too stupid to follow the drinking game.

Luckily, I have come up with a great drinking game guaranteed to get you totally shit-faced over the course of an afternoon.

Kate's Tit's Drinkin Game
Basically, everyone who has seen a movie with Kate Winslet in it, knows that it's inevitable that she is going to get her spectacular rack out at some stage. Why not enjoy the moment by having a swig to celebrate?

I guess the question is, Is there a movie that Kate doesn't get her tits out in??

She even got her milk-sacs out in Heavenly Creatures. Kate deserves an Oscar, she's only been nominated what?? 655 times?? I'm sure that when they invent the 'ubiquitous tits' award she will be winning every year.

Back to the game. I should warn you that its realllllly easy to go from sober to being a drunk-ass 'rock of love' skank after the first 30 minutes of one of her films. Tits Tits Tits. Tits Everywhere.

Everybody Sculls if you see Bush

Monday, January 05, 2009

Potatoes from Mars

A clear gauge of a great relaxing holiday, is just how suicidal you feel upon your return. This morning I was ready to jump off a cliff.

First up, there are no rainforests in Sydney, and most importantly there are no green tree frogs napping on my fridge in Sydney.



One might wonder, what positive influence a tree frog napping on your fridge holds, well if you happen to be addicted to iceblocks and can't open the freezer for fear of disturbing the frog and have him jump on you, then you are beating the christmas bulge right there!

It's called "the white lipped green tree frog diet"

No swimming holes, no wearing a bikini all day, no eating a bag of lychees and hosing yourself down afterwards, what exactly did Sydney hold for upon my return?

RIP OFF: on the good ol' Cairns highway, fruiterers sell their wares by the side of the road, so its easy to pick up a pineapple, a bag of nectarines, or a kilogram bag of lychees - these are generally sold between $3 - $6 a bag... however upon trying to scratch my lychee itch back home, I discovered we are being anally raped in the fruit department. $17 a kg!!!!!!!!!!!! are you kidding me!!!!! who wants to get a plane and do some qld/nsw lychee runs?? we could be millionaires.

UNFAIR: I find this mornig my weekly bus-ticket has gone up $2 a week!! $2!!!!!!! wtf?? and not only that, my bus was 11 minutes late!!!!!!! where is my money going??? gripe gripe grunt.

EXTREME SLOPE: I'm just gonna go out on a limb and say that Bondi Beach is the worst beach ever. Rough. No trees. Brown Grass. Surrounded by Concrete. Billions of Bathers. Are these people mental??? there is no shade. there are no palm trees. no sea turtles?! and the slope I had to sit on to read my book in the tiny fingernail amount of shade available was on a 85% angle. ooh yeah.. relaxing.

so I decided to cheer myself up by throwing my one leftover steamed potato into my neighbours chimney. hopefully it went all the way down and they will wake up to find a white, steamed, peeled potato sitting in their hallway and think up crazy theories from whence the potato came.

"potatoes from mars" perhaps??

Ergh....... work is for losers.