Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Pfft Maths??? Who uses that..

Yeah, so now might be the best time to tell my work that I spent all my time in maths class

a) plotting how to spend one night of passion with Daniel Johns
b) making funny noises
c) coming to class without underpants on and laughing all lesson
d) not doing maths

To be fair though, the 'no underpants in class' is a classic, and I stand by it, I just wish I had a friend to play 'no underpants at work' with....

To be honest though, I doubt even if I wasn't not paying attention that I would have learnt anything at that school for retards. Two problems on the chalkboard supposed to entertain us for the duration of the lesson. Pfffffffft. I would have received a better education from some christian missionary's at a school in Uganda.... (at least I would have learnt to carry 10 litres of water on my head - and that is a skill that would actually come in handy)


Things I'm not too pleased about...

L'Occitane. They keep fucking with me. Now, I have super sensitive skin - and have been known to swell up like a balloon if something I happen to be allergic to, so much as touches me. I'm pretty much allergic to everything that comes out of the Body Shop (which doesn't say much about that company really) I did find my magical face cream though, a lovely Honey Cream from L'Occitane. Loved It! so not allergic. I used it for about 3 years until I went into the shop one day and they had discontinued it!!!!!!!! Rude. So they gave me some samples of other moisturisers, and yep - I was allergic to those ones as well. Luckily my swelling died down enough for me to write a ranty email to L'Occitane for making me look like a burns victim and they sent me 3 tubs of my discontinued line, and a new product that was Honey and Lemon... not really down with the Lemon part, but what can you do?? I had no choice.. 2 years later, and I am hooked on this Honey/Lemon cream, so I go into L'Occitane to buy my next installment and they have friggen discontinued it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What is is about my face and the moisturiser that goes on it that screams "discontinue!" . I swear if I like it, it must be on some list for destruction.

It's just so annoying because now I have to try a new one, and the new one is smaller, and more expensive. I swear they do this just to fuck with you.

Other things they discontinued without my approval:

Milo Bars: original. Milo Bars may have been 'new and improved' but that doesn't mean they have to get rid of the 'old and inferior' version! I liked them the best!!!! Crumbly Milo Goodness dunked into milk. crunchy knobbly bits have NO PLACE in a Milo Bar.

Tom Kha Gai Soup: It goes without saying that I am mental for Trident's spicy noodle soup, I was even more mental when I had more than one soup to choose from... nay though, they discontinued it. fuckers.

I think there should be some sort of list you can get on, so you get an alert when something you like is about to be discontinued so you can stage a protest out the front of the building.

I'm not happy about this constant discontinued line of things I like!!

I will shit on your windscreens!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, July 23, 2010

Ukulele's are for Wankers

Are you 8 years old?
Are you head counsellor at a Hawaiian School Camp?
Are you in fact Hawaiian??

If the answer to any of these things is NO and you have a ukulele you are a wanker.

Ukuleles are for people who can't play the guitar properly but still want the attention of being able to play an instrument that no actual genre exists for, to be determined really fucking shit at it.

The only people allowed to play Ukulele's are people like Jimi Hendrix and Kirk Hammett who are only playing it to be ironic. Having not heard 'Master of Puppets' on ukulele, I would lend my ears for the first 24 bars. Then he better smash that thing good.

At no time should I ever be in a beer garden, or a backyard bbq, or anywhere except a Hawaiian girls 8th Birthday party and a Ukulele comes out for a rendition of some shit song, cos lets face it - there are probably only 2 songs on ukulele that sound good, the rest are just rubbish high pitched fag versions of themselves.

Plus the word: Ukulele is just stupid. Too many U's too many E's.. sounds like something Saruman might have created to send into Mordor to crush those tiny Hobbits'.

Screw You!! Tiny useless instrument.

Worst Necklace Ever Made

These, I'm quite certain, qualify for the worlds most ugly jewelery lifetime achievement awards:

I mean, unless looking like a frilly poof from the 1800's is your thing?? or looking like a circus clown???

I guess the sad thing is that this woman who made these .. painstakingly made these, and posed in her creations, thinks that some fool is going to pay $22 for these bizarre neck abominations.

They could come in handy though, they're not what you would really call inconspicuous jewelery by any means, maybe they should make alcoholics/drug addicts and child molesters sport these things rather than the well hidden SCRAM bracelet. There wouldn't be any need to send these people to jail or rehabilitation either - because wearing that necklace is punishment enough I reckon.

I think i'll buy 10 and send them to Lindsay Lohan.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The Birthday Treebrains

Often when I am glued to the couch on a sunday afternoon, my eve spent swilling top shelf Ale amongst friends and countrymen... I think to myself.... "what does a vegan eat to stave off a hangover??"

Deep Fried Carrots??
Greasy Chickpeas???

I just don't think it would have the same punch to the stomach as a bucket of fried chicken from Chicken Cottage - which now I have been drunker and wiser, now know that Chicken Cottage's only true purpose in this life is to be the 100% Sunday Afternoon Hangover Cure.

I rag on Chicken Cottage a lot. When we are away in far away exotic lands, running over hill, over dale, my cotton dress flying out behind me as I jump into a pile of Autumn leaves on the crest of a mountain over a lake a pristine as a miror.. I say to Mark "stupid chicken cottage" fugging up our street with it's greasy chicken-ness. My street will never be the caricature of quaint English countryside as long as Chicken Cottage is in existence.

And yet - in my hour of need, after waking up at 11am and drinking 2 litres of water directly from the tap, and going back to bed for a 4 hour nap and rousing gently at 3pm.. the only thing that can get me going again is a nice chicken breast coated in magical chicken cottage spices. MMmmm.

To be fair though, if I had half a brain on me, I would have taken home the Treebrains from the park from my picnic which lead me to be in this chicken cottage state to begin with.

What are the Treebrains you ask??

This delicious fungus goes by many names, but the most fitting of all I think is the Treebrain.

I first discovered Treebrains when I was reading this blog. I have always wanted to come across my own treebrain to eat, and finally the manky tree in Hyde Park where I had my champagne fueled birthday picnic has come through with the goods.

According to Steve the highly regarded guinea pig of 'Steve Don't Eat It' - Treebrains taste like lemon chicken when warmed up in a frying pan, and you know - I bet a nice hot serving of treebrains would have helped that hangover far more than a greasy bucket of steroid freak chicken.


Monday, July 19, 2010

My Preciousssssssssss Soup

I've been in London for nine months now, wandered the grocery aisles, become accustomed to the strange and exotic food they have over here, magical treats that go by the name 'hobnobs' and other such luxuries... however it has taken my this long to remember that I am missing one key food ingredient from my cupboard.

Dehydrated Oily Noodles.

Sure they have their own brands of dehydrated oily noodles over here, but nothing that is exactly like this one that I am addicted to. You can't do summer without copious amounts of dehydrated Trident Tom Yum Goong Oily Noodles. It already feels like christmas time to me - i've got my cherries, pistachio nuts, smoked salmon... but no TOM YUM GOONG!!

Each time I went shopping in summer back in Sydney I would load up the trolley with about 30 packets of soup - what the hell right?? they are only 90c each! So accustomed I was to having a horde of oily soup at my whim, that when I moved over here I callously forgot to bring provisions for when the weather heated up and there was only two things on the dinner menu: oily noodle soup and watermelon slices. mmmmmmmm.

What to do?? I blew on my friends and family horn - and sent out my signal of "in Noodle Soup Distress" and about a week later I have TEN whole packets in my hands. mmmmmmmmm

How to correctly ration them out though?? I mean, oily noodle soup is at it's best when its got two servings of soup in the bowl, I can't very well go using two packets of my foreign, exotic, expensive soup now! The only way I can enjoy my fancy illegally imported soup now is to dress up in a ball gown, pop a nice vintage Veuve Clicquot, and serve my oily soup in some antique silverware from the 1800's...

mmmmmm noodle soup!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Things I used to HATE, but now can't live without

There is a certain mystifying element of growing up, you change, your body changes, your taste pallet expands, you change so much that you could be a completely different person to the person you were 15 years ago.

Throughout my life I have gone through some major love/hates, these are the ones that confound me the most:

CHEESE: used to hate it. Couldn't stand it. Cheese in salad?? disgusting! Cheese on toast!! what is wrong with you?? I hated cheese all throughout my childhood, I hated the smell of it, the only thing I could come close to regarding cheese were those cheesesticks that are so plastic they are about as removed form cheese as the moon is from the sun. Then the world of Camembert changed my life. I can't live without cheese. My favourite thing in the world is to stand around and eat a giant block of cheese. I have eaten nothing but a plate of cheese for dinner. I have gotten up in the middle of the night to eat cheese. If I was to learn the world was going to explode I would move into a cheese factory and spend the rest of my days lying in a giant vat of warm cheese.

WOOL: I hated wool, I hated the feel of wool, I hated wearing wool. I would cry if I was left in a room with wool. There was just something not right about wool. It felt so awful on my skin, I can remember having to wear this giant woolly jumper and hating every minute of it, I felt scarred afterwards and my hatred of wool was hence born into a lifetime of contempt towards it and anything wool related. (watch out Sheep!) of course, I now love wool and cover myself in it whenever I can.. woolen socks, woolen blankets, woolen scarves, and especially woolen jumpers. I can't get enough of wool these days.

MUSHROOMS: hated it. If anything came near me with mushrooms so much as touching it I wouldn't eat it, or I would spend hours ridding any dishes that had come into contact with any mushrooms. Nothing was more disgusting than a mushroom. Of course these days, 90% of my meals have mushrooms. I love mushrooms. Mushrooms for breakfast (with butter) Mushroom Pasta, Mushroom Pizza, Mushroom Risotto, Baked Mushrooms. Seriously - they are natures superfoods!! I'm also partial to the magical variety.

ART GALLERIES: nothing is more boring to an 11 year old than an art gallery. It also doesn't help the fact that the art gallery of NSW is the shittiest art gallery in the world, unless paintings of the australian landscape does it for you (zero interest on my behalf to this day) however, once I started to travel the world and my eyes were opened to good art, now I can't get enough of Art Galleries, hence my 4 hour standing in a queue in Florence in order to see the Botticelli's.

DOGS: Dogs used to scare the crap out of me, but now I like them. It take a few nice dogs to change the way I feel about dogs - namely Lola the most timid dog in existence, but once you cross that threshold into liking dogs, then its not long until you start wanting one of your own (although I'm sure Lenny would kill me before he allowed that to happen).

PANTS: now I know 'pants' mean undies in the UK, but I will never call Pants "slacks" so Pants they are, and boy did I hate them. I hated everything about pants and would rather go naked than wear a pair of shorts. I didn't wear pants until I was about 10 years old. Dress Girl Forever. I don't break out in a sweat anymore if the possibility of wearing pants arises.

MOUSTACHES: I used to burst into tears if I saw a man with a moustache, and have a nervous breakdown if I had to speak to one, or be in a room with one. What is that about?? I way less racist towards a moustached face these days. It can't have been easy being a guy with a moustache and a child taking one look at your face and running screaming from the room.

I've always hated Hairdressers though. Hater for Life.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Brodytown: AKA Tuscany

I always said that I would spend my 30th birthday in Italy, and I did not let me down.. Tuscany was the setting and this is what happened.

We left on Thursday night flying into Pisa.. delayed!!!!! You know what is the most shallow of apologies - Airplane Apologies... you stare and stare at your boarding gate screen then some smarmy accent comes over the intercom "British Airways apologises for the delay, but..." blah blah.. You know what would make the waiting and apologising mean something?? if they sent a member of staff outside to be kicked in the shins and then you get a glass of champagne. That would make the extra waiting more palatable.

Anyway - finally arrive in Pisa.. train strike.. No trains going from the airport to the city. It is 10pm at night and we are stuck. Noone can figure out the bus time table and the taxi queue is easily 300 people long. soooooooo we'll be sleeping in the airport tonight??? Luckily we found an Italian guy to translate the bus schedule and we managed to score a free ride into town.

Went to bed early, so I could wake up bright eyed and fresh and 30!!!!!

Early morning arose into the Pisa humidity, for the first time in my life I was spending a birthday in the heat of summer!!! 35 degrees!! Pulled on my dress and sat down to a gigantic breakfast, I love those italian breakfasts that include Chocolate Cake! delicioso.

Spent the morning wandering around Pisa doing the obligatory Pisa things - Duomo/Leaning Tower.. have to say, the leaning tower is a lot smaller than I imagined, and lots of people doing their tower poses. Nice to see that 'posing like a moron' translates all over the globe.
Then we raced to the train station to catch an early train into Florence which was to be our main stay.. oooh yeah how about that train strike??? First of all there was noone working at the station to tell us there was a train strike, and the ticket machine wasn't giving out change, so we ended up with about €30 in 'credit receipts'.. what good are they?? "excuse me, do you take train italia credit receipts??" (luckily we cashed them in on our last day.. like a savings account) Then we waited and waited for the train that seemed like it would never come. This waiting on a stinkin hot train platform was not how I imagined my 30th birthday panning out... however as a collective group of train station refugees we figured out that there was one train coming that day and presto! it arrived. Florence here we come.

The train to Florence takes an hour. Easy. Our hotel we were staying at was in the Palazzo Santo Spirito in an old mansion house. Nice balcony. Nice View. Nice Chandelier to swing around from. This is more like it.

Now that we had arrived in Florence we had lots of things to do: gelato eating/photos of naked men statues. Luckily there is plenty of both, you cant walk 10 feet without walking into a gelato shop, or a giant marble penis.

First up we climbed the Giotti Tower.. 414 steps. Dying of a heart attack on my birthday in Florence seems like a bittersweet way to go! Perfect views though, although have to say in a city that gets to 38 degrees and 85% humidity.. not a rooftop pool in sight!!!!!!!!!! Someone needs to go to the town meeting to raise this issue.

There is so much art and buildings to see that you kinda wander around in a daze. We saw many a beautiful thing and tried to absorb as much as possible. I think Florence has the highest ratio of Madonna and Child paintings I have ever seen. Once our brains were full to capacity of Renaissance Art we looked for the one thing we hadn't managed to find all day.. Italian Happy Hour. We had stumbled across this in Milan last year - where you buy a cocktail and the giant platter of antipasto/pasta/pizza/fruit is yours for the taking.. so we got into Happy Hour detective mode and sniffed out the Happy Hour area (Santa Croce). Pina Colada time!!!!!! So happy. Went to bed thoroughly satisfied. Best Birthday Ever.

Day 2: more art. Went to another church. Got in trouble for dressing too revealing and had to wear the punishment shroud around. Spent 2 hours in the line to see David.. after 2 hours of waiting in line, I was beyond over it. David Shmavid, there are like a billion fake David's all around the place, I couldn't stand one second longer standing in a line that goes nowhere so we said fuck it! and went to stand in another line for 2 hours at a different museum.. productive!

There is one interesting thing about standing in lines for hours and that is listening to the people around you, and if you happen to be standing near some travelling american art students and their teacher - I advise you to just gouge your eardrums out now. The art students and their dumbass teacher did not stop talking for one second about the most inane crap for hours on end. Finally before I could strangle one of them we were into the Uffizi Gallery. Lots to see: Leonardo/Michaelangelo/Rafaello/Donatello. It was a teenage mutant ninja turtle name fest.

Loved it so much. Italy is just a place you want to move to when you are there. Italian people are so friendly and helpful, and even though I don't speak italian, I can kinda understand them and I think they can understand me too. I want to move there.

Florence is a great setting to be if you want to pretend you are in lots of movies - you can pretend to the be the murderer from 'Perfume' on the Ponte Vecchio, or you can pretend to be Hannibal Lector looking at the 'Duomo seen from the Belvedere' in Silence of the Lambs, or pretty much all the Florence scenes from Hannibal can be created around the Palazzo Vecchio. You can then have some carpaccio eaten off someones face and a drink of Chianti. realism.

I wanted my birthday to be hot and by god!!!!!!!! It was so hot that you dont even have to move and you are sweating. I was sweating so much that my skin was covered in salt crystals, I was a walking pretzel stick. You could have licked my neck as a savoury snack before having a cool glass of Duff Beer (which they sell over there?? but they wont give you the bottle?? whats the point then??) On the last day there it was soooooo hot that it was too hot for bras. Noone wears a bra in Florence. Which would explain a lot of the arty nudity around the place.

I always notice this in every Italian city we go to, but the locals are just too good looking. All the men in Florence looked like Adrian Brody to me. Loves it. Next we are going to Naples and the Amalfi Coast, I wonder who they will look like down there??

30 and loving it.

Thursday, July 08, 2010


I go to the hairdressers roughly every 6 - 8 months, they are a long time apart because I seriously can not fucking stand going to these jerks. They always tell me every time I am in there that I should be going to the hairdressers every 6 weeks, but a hideous appointment once a year is all I can handle.

These are my reasons.

1. Don't act belligerent towards me for not going to the hairdresers more often as soon as I sit in the chair. If you weren't a bunch of useless fucktards who are beyond expensive I would be here more often.

2. Trim means Trim. Trim doesn't mean cut off 6 inches. Trim doesn't mean give my hair layers where there were no layers before. Trim doesn't mean give me feathery wispy ends that need trimming themselves in 2 weeks time. Trim means Trim of the dead ends which usually amounts to about an inch and a half. If this needs explaining every single time I sit in the chair, wtf are they teaching you at hairdresser school????

3. Blowdry means Blowdry. Blowdry doesn't mean straighten the fuck out of my hair with hairstraighteners so my hair looks like a chav wig. Did you mistake me with Tina Turner when I walked in the door?? did you confuse my already dead straight hair with a giant afro??? What part of dead straight hair do you not understand?? I have dead straight hair, I dont need it burnt to a fucking crisp in order to be straightened anymore. Blow dry means BLOW dry. Use a BLOWdryer. Blowdry some body into it. This is why I go to the hairdressers so I can leave with a sexy blowdry and walk around like a catwalk supermodel for a few hours.

These things seem fairly simple to me. These are also things that I don't think I need to reiterate every single time I go into a hairdressers. I feel that these people are the expert professionals considering they get paid £50 for an hour ($100) and that explaining all these minute things to them would be undermining and embarrassing for them.

It is no wonder then when I sit in the hairdressers chair all I hear around me are people telling the current hairdresser stories of how they "never go to the hairdresser" that they had their hair cut short and hated it and have spent the past 2 years growing their hair long again. (ie: some stupid hairdresser traumatised them with a haircut that wasn't properly discussed with them) I know. I've been there. You rarely get a longer than 30 second 'consultation' about what you want done to your hair, is it any wonder that so many people go to these places as little as possible??! I hate the hairdresser more than any other profession in this world, and I refuse to go for as long as necessary.

What is really ghey is when you leave the hairdresser steaming in anger, go home and wash your hair and blowdry it yourself - washing away £50 essentially. What was the point of going??

This morning I called my hairdresser to complain. She yelled at me. She yelled at me that it was my fault for a good 15 minutes. She said it was my fault for not saying anything. She said that she doesn't understand how someone can sit there and not say anything and leave unhappy. Unfortunately, it is really hard to leave a hairdresser happy with your outcome when you are shoved in a line with 6 other people who are having their hair cut and blowdried, its louder than a chainsaw factory and the hairdresser can't understand a word you are saying.

To recap the hairdressers response to my unsatisfied visit:

It's your fault for not saying anything.
It's your fault for leaving and paying.
It's your fault for sitting there whilst it was happening to you.
It's your fault because actually 99% of customers would be disappointed if they didn't have their hair straightened to death when they come into the salon because "that's what they are paying for". Seriously, this is what this woman said to me.

Sorry. Sorry I made an appointment for a blowdry. I must have really inconvenienced you asking for something out the realms of your understanding. How could I possibly sit there whilst my hair is being manhandled and not say anything?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!????????

Well, maybe because by the time its done its too late!!!!!!!! and what am i going to say?? "sorry I hate hair straighteners, can you please re-wash my hair and blow dry it like I asked when I made the booking in the first place!" is this even an option?? I would have been there till about 11pm if that was the case. If we are living in a world with Blowdryers and Hairstraightners then we really need to start booking things in exactly as people want: "Wash + Straighten" or a "Wash + Blowdry" they are two different things and if it's so confusing the element of mystery needs to be brought to attention.

Instead the hairdressers solution is to yell at you and put you down that is YOUR fault that you left unsatisfied, and to book you in again with the same person who didn't do it right the first time - which is just beyond humiliating and I don't see how they could expect you to face someone when you've called to complain about them and look them in the eye and expect them to be nice to you?? Surely a free blowdry could be accomplished by someone who is in training? I don't expect a top stylist to give me their time for free. I don't even want to set foot in that place again. I think I will give my free blowdry appointment to the nice lady who sells BIG ISSUE outside of Wholefoods, as she would accomplish more sales with a nice sexy hairdo.

FUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!! I would rather have to go through a daily enema than have to go to the hairdresers again in my lifetime.

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Not Happy: Future

Today is the day that Marty McFly went into the Future

HOVERBOARDS!!!!!!!!! where are you?
Thumbprint locks, would make getting into my house sooooo much easier.
Digital windows that you can change the view out of... trees shmees, a bit of mexican sunset would do nicely right now
Uncrappy video calls with perfect streaming - i would also go with perfect regular phone calls without cutting out
JAWS 3 Billion - why stop after Jaws the Revenge??? we were finally getting somewhere, unless Jaws ate Michael Caine?? i cant remember. i remember he had a fondness for eating helicopters so why wasn't this explored more??
80's Cafe's with bike machines in them!! with that creepy Max Headroom who takes your orders.
Jackets that magically fit and dry themselves. so handy.

The future is here, and it is sooooo not what Steven Spielberg led us to believe would happen.

You stink NOW.

Tuesday, July 06, 2010


so. there is a cat in the house again.

there are things you forget about when there hasn't been a cat in the house:

the feeling of litter underfoot when you step out of the shower
cat hair all over everything
cat hair in your mouth whilst you sleep

lenny has also become the biggest blanket hog, i have mentioned in the past the mysterious powers that 'black blanky' holds over both humans and felines alike, well lenny has declared black blanky his own, and completely haired it up. Owned.

he has also changed his sleeping patterns in that he used to always be up the top of the bed with his head on the pillow in the middle, and now he is sleeping where my legs want to be. all the time. so i'm cramping up and having to sleep on the sliver of the edge. so worth it though. love that cat.

the one thing that i did completely forget about is when lenny gets windinass and runs around the house all crazy and meowing at 3am. Windinass, is a state of mind that cats get in, when they have wind in their ass. I'm not sure if the London wind feels differently to Sydney wind, but lenny has definitely has windinass the past few nights.

ahhh sleep. who needs it?? i have cat-love to get me through the day.