Monday, June 28, 2010

I saw a Beatle

I saw a Beatle.
I was at most.... 10 rows from a Beatle.
A Beatle!

Sunday is what I will refer to formally as "Paul McCartney Day" PMCD.

PMCD was held in Hyde Park. I think a crowd of 100,000 people were there. 100,000 crazy Beatle fans.

We arrived at Hyde Park around 2pm and elbowed and maneuvered our way to the front. I don't go to concerts and stand midway. It's the front or nothing. This is a Beatle after all, I need to see the sweat beads drop down his nose onto the piano.

I guess the good thing that can be said about a Paul McCartney crowd is that they aren't a bunch of drunken yobbos, and you can find a spot and stand comfortably knowing that you wont get a broken leg from some overly enthusiastic douchebags who rush the stage as soon as the first note hits the air.

Mark and I found our Blanket of Safety, which was owned by the 'sexy beast' tanned 50 year olds... if we had one foot on the blanket we were in our safety zone. No one was going to get our spot that we spent 5 hours clambering for.

The pre-Paul entertainment consisted of: Elvis Costello (who needs a drum kit) Crowded House (didn't you break up??? I guess Tim Finn has all the rights to the good songs..) and Crosby Still & Nash, who are grandpa's but goddam they can shred that shit up!!!!!!! Shred that shit Shredder.

so we waited...and played Waiting Politics.

Waiting Politics is a game you play when the headliner is about to start and everyone is edgy.. and hungry.. I personally forgot that I get hungry and my blood sugar gets low when I see a concert that I am dying for (watching bands burn more calories than usual), I usually remember when the first song starts and I realise i'm about to pass out.. luckily I remembered during a warm up act, so I wolfed down some hot dog, carrot cake and pepsi in about 2 mins after maneuvering out of the 50,000 crowd to get to the food stand. (girls can do anything).. then sat around on our safety blanket and listened to the crazy arguments that people come up with in a crowd, getting testy in the heat.

* tall people shouldn't be allowed at the front and should all stand at the back.. (not fair!? don't hate on me cos I won the genetics lottery)

* omg, what was the point of getting here early if people are going to arrive an hour beforehand and push their way to the front??!?! (cos that's what people in crowds do peeps!)

We also had an OCD control freak in front of us who wanted to a) control where everyone was standing, b) knew the setlist Paul was going to play (he was wrong) c) could singer louder than Paul McCartney (um shut up) and d) found the tag on my shirt annoying so tried to manhandle my shirt off me (you freak)

The sun was still high in the sky at 7.30 when Sir Paul graced us with his god-like presence. There is something about seeing someone whose music has completely shaped your life. I jumped up and screamed at the heavens for 3 hours straight.

Paul played so great. He played every song you would want to hear. He played old timey beatles song, he played Wings songs, he played 'tequila' for the hell of it. Paul is a natural comedienne - he really engages the crowd.. Paul did 4 Encores.

Paul sang songs for George Harrison, songs of John Lennon, songs for Linda, songs for Stella, and songs for all of us. When Paul sang 'Hey Jude' I think you would have been able to hear the crowd singing 'na, na, na, na na na na, na na na na, Hey Jude' from space.

The crowd went nuts for 3 hours. Everyone was so happy. Paul had fireworks, explosions, a Magical Mystery Tour piano, ukulele's, he had everything.

The best songs for me were: Band on the Run (2 songs in 1!!) Hey Jude, and Yesterday. I wish my friends could have been there with me, and my dad could have seen it. That was the one thing that was missing from the day.

Love you Paul

Thursday, June 24, 2010

A Big Day for Ranga's

You know when you go to bed and you wake up and your country has a new Prime Minister??!?! Wtf?! yeah. me neither.

This is the new face of Politics: (Tilda Swinton must be pretty happy right now, thinking up future movie roles revolving around thrilling australian prime ministers)


On the one hand, I am glad that we do have a Female Prime Minister, it is a big day for vagina's everywhere. It is also a huge day for Ranga's.. no longer will Ranga's have to live in the shadow, with their creepy translucent ranga ways.. I guess we will have no need for this anymore.

OR WILL WE?!!!!!!!!!!

I can't help but feel that this is a mere pity victory. I didn't vote her in. There is no celebration. It was something that was done sneakily in the night. It's not like going to the voting polls and getting your sausage sandwich and the anticipation of Women Vs Men. This is a weak victory.

Poor Kevin. I liked Kevin, He spoke a lot of languages, and seemed to be able to get the economy going again when every other country was totally fucked. I bet now the Australian dollar will go down faster than a whore on Tiger Woods. Where were all the people with their KEVIN 07 shirts yesterday????!

I predict that the party will continue to lose public support, and they will turn around and say "well that's what happens when you get a woman Prime Minister" the country will end off worse than it was with Kevin, and Women will be set back another 15 years.

However, Rangas all around the country will be setting fire to Suncream Effigy's.

as much as lenny hate's the vacuum

Cats hate vacuums. Lenny especially hates the vacuum. I don't even have to turn the vacuum on, I just need to get it out of the cupboard for Lenny to start hissing and doing angry backflips all over the place... he really hates that thing. If he walks past and sees the vacuum, that is enough for him to shit his pants.. sometimes I wonder if I could just whisper into his ear at nighttime "vacuum cleaner" if he would flip out then too???

I wonder.. do I hate anything as much as Lenny hates the Vacuum??


I hate fake tan smudges.. when you think you've done an even job, then you realise you have giant finger streaks somewhere really obvious, like your inner arm, or your neck.. I really hate that...

I really hate when you stand at the busstop for 8 minutes and then decide to huff off because you can't be fucked waiting any longer, then when you are in between two busstops, and neither is close enough, the bus comes along. I really hate that.

I hate when you go shopping to make some amazing dish that requires like 15 ingredients, then when 11 of the ingredients are already in a bowl, you realise you missed one of the main ingredients and have to leave the house to go to the shop, and the dish never tastes right because it sat there for so long festering on the bench. I really hate that.

I hate when you're watching a DVD and you get half way through and it starts skipping because of a scratch, so you sit there going.. "maybe it only had that one scratch??" and you watch some more and it jumps again, so you think "maybe it was just those two scratches??" because you don't want to get up, stop the DVD, do the blowing on it, rubbing it on your shirt, and putting it back in and have to sit through the Menu options again. I really hate that.

I hate when you get to the end of the checkout and you realise you forgot one thing, so you run off in the hope that you will beat the person in front of you, so you can put your things through, then when you get back you realise you forgot something else. then you have to decide to take everything and go through the aisles again, or just live without that one thing. I really hate that.

I hate when you're in the shower and noone has made the executive decision to get a new soap out of the cupboard, so you have about 4 slivers of dying soap mashed together and you feel like a dirty old hobo using these. I really hate that.

I hate when you accidentally wear a shirt to work that exposes your boobies, like one lean down and its tit-city.. so you have to go to the shops on your lunch break and buy something really cheap and boring to sit in the rest of the day. I really hate that.

I hate when you buy fruit and you think "i'll just let it ripen in the bowl" then you wait a few days and bite into a piece and its way tooo ripe and splurts juice all over you, so you think 'fuck this!' and throw all the fruit in the bin. I really hate that.

But of all these things, I doubt I hate anything as much as Lenny hates the Vacuum.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Irrational Arguments Explained

This one is dedicated to all the guys out there who have once upon a time asked their women if they would like something from the shops - and ended up with a cucumber thrown at their heads.

I know it must be hard living with women "irrational crazy emotional moodswing psychotic women" and you'd be right, but it does help if you try not to press our psycho buttons and do things right for a change.

Scenario: home on a saturday afternoon. me - on the couch in the middle of doing something important. Him - comes over and asks me if I need anything from the shops.

My answer: no
His retort: are you sure?
My answer: for fucks sake NO!!!!!!! i said NO!!!!!!! i'm in the middle of something, if i want something i'll go myself later, why do I have to make all the decisions around here about food?
His retort: I just asked if you wanted something from the shops!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Stop being such an asshole!!!!!!!! (cue: throwing implement)

What is going through my head during this exchange: what a fucking idiot!!! I already said No, don't ask me again and get mad at me when I already gave you my answer the first time!!!!!!!!! I am sitting here doing something, just make a decision on your own for once. Do I have to do everything?!?!

Why can't you just look in the cupboard yourself and figure out if we need anything?? and don't ask me what I need! because essentially that is just asking "what do you need, so you can make something for lunch" why do I have to make all the food around here?! how hard is it to see what ingredients we are lacking and make an executive decision to buy something and make me something for a change!!!!!!!!!

Huh!! are you too useless to make me a sandwich for once! How will you be when I have a baby? will you be this useless when I have a baby hanging off my tit? will i have to make all the decisions about the house then too? cant you help out more? when i have a baby you better go to the shops and buy food for the both of us, because I will be way too tired to go shopping and clean and look after a baby, god why are you so fucking useless!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You can't even put away 3 towels that are clearly dry and been hanging out on the washing line for days now?! if I didn't do it they would continue to be out there until the end of days. And you can't wash up properly either. Goddamit Do I have to do everything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And that is why you get a kick in the ballsack and something thrown at your head when you ask us two times if we want something from the shops.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

The story of the poo

DISCLAMER:
This is a story about a poo.
If you don't like stories about poo.
Then this story is not for you.


Once upon a day a work, twas morningtime and my fellow workmates started floating in.. one of them CurryLover remarked how much curry he ate the night before, and that his belly was well full of curry, and that being the large curry eater that he is - would not be partaking in any further curries.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully until Alanna came into the room and said "guess what I just peed on!!"

Well I don't know how to answer that.. could be a variety of things?? your hand?? a ruler?? two spiders humping?? be more specific. So she took us all into the toilet to point out the biggest log any of us had ever seen.

(I decided not to post pictures - but believe me - I have them and they are plentiful - but for now use your imagination to envisage a poo the size of a giant cucumber)


What is more - she flushed the toilet and did a post pee inspection and discovered the poo afterwards.. so that poo had to have been flushed twice and hadn't budged. I'm telling you it was a 10 Couric if ever I have seen one. Pretty soon everyone was coming down to view the spectacle of the giant poo exhibition..

and yet the poo remained.... 5 flushes later. in one piece. it was demon poo if ever i have come across.. yes my friends, the sea was rough that day.

Once we decided as a group that the poo was not of this world, the next step was to turn on each other to find out from whom the poop was born of. Obviously CurryLover was the first suspect, however he swore up and down that it wasn't him.. Alanna being the discoverer of the giant poo swore it wasn't her, and that no poo like that could come from a woman. No one would take responsibility for megapoo, and furthermore because megapoo wouldn't flush like a normal crap, someone had to go out and get a stick to poke at it to get it around the first bend.

To this day noone knows who did the megapoo. We all looked at each other with shifty side eyes for a period after that, having all bonded over the flushing toilet watching, and making outlandish assumptions on who brought megapoo into this world.... (suggestions for megapoo bearers: pregnant lady or someone into anal) it was awkward for awhile.

We decided the best course of action would be to blame someone who couldn't defend themselves and who wasn't here on that fateful morning when the poo changed all our lives. So as a group we pinned the blame on Andrew who is working out of one of the offices at the back of the building. So now whenever we are all gathered around and Andrew walks past we all look at each other knowingly.. knowing that we are safe in our justifications and that no one is going to pin the giant poo on us anytime soon.

Girl Facts

There is one thing that binds all girls together. One thing that unites us. One thing that each of us hide in our deepest darkest closests.

Bloody Period Knickers.

I don't know why we are so ashamed of our Bloody Period Knickers... we all have them. There is nothing worse than someone coming over to your house and going into your room, and you'll have a flash of "OH god I hope I don't have any bloody period knickers lying around!!"

The thing is we even hide our period knickers from other women, It's not i'm going to judge someone if I walk into their room and see some bloody period knickers on the floor. I'm sure they've been washed. They have just lapsed into their final lifecycle of bloody period knickers, the ones left when all the good ones are in the laundry.

What's with all the stigma???

Why don't we just live in a world with nothing but burgundy underpants in that case??

I'm not gonna be ashamed of my period stained knickers anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Who wants to come over?? (bring beer)

Friday, June 18, 2010

Lying Down Game

In the grand tradition of LYING DOWN GAME.. I present: Lying Down at Work *would be much more nefarious if I was working in a Brothel.. maybe next year??


Coming up: Lying down around Barcelona.. Lying down near Paul McCartney.. Lying down on the Amalfi Coast.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Dr Love

I am in one of those relationships where you are 'better' as a couple.. I don't think half the people who hang out with me would choose to hang out with me if it weren't for the fact that me and mark make a good couple. You know - those couples that compliment each other, two halves of the same pie.. unfortunately on my own I am just a badly cooked potato and leak quiche.. and nobody likes that... We often get "oh you guys are the best couple! that's what all couples should be like".. sure? if two idiots making fun of each other like brother and sister is what your idea of love is?? (mine is) Anyway - being that I am nothing but a week old leak quiche, I want to impart my wisdom onto the world regarding love and finding that everlasting gobstopper of the heart.

One of my friends is heartbroken. and that makes me mad. if it was up to me I would drive around to his house (which in itself would be punishment enough, seen as how I am the worlds shittiest driver and would probably crash through the foundations and wreck his house.. "yeah that's what you get for breaking my friends heart.. douchbag.. nice walls..NOT")

These are my love tips..

Be like a spore on the wall, to become the mould in his heart....... by this I mean CONSTANT VIGILANCE.. do you think you'll ever get into a guys pants if you aren't planted deeply in his subconscious?? Always be lurking around.. It's a good idea to just be seen flitting past his peripheral vision (looking super sexy) you don't even have to speak, just a well timed brisk walk past and eye contact is all that is needed. Maintain this act for 4 years and you're bound to get in there eventually.

Hook up with one of his mates: If you don't hook up with a mate of his - how else will he know how desirable you are? Treat this like a well timed PR exercise, it is a good idea to work up some good word of mouth, by hookin up with someone he knows. Having a friend of his worship you is always good in getting the idea of love into his head at an early stage.

When you do go out on a date, never invite him inside afterwards. That's just an invitation for sex and nothing else. Best to avoid all that stuff and go to the movies to watch unsexy cartoons. Do this for about a year..

Sexy Lingerie is stupid - wearing his underpants and a business shirt around the house is much better, and more fun.

Always be the one to fart first - preferably on the 2nd day of your relationship, will make things much easier in the long run.

So by following these love rules you should end up with someone that you can spend the rest of your life with, and remember, if you aren't happy everyday, then you need to kick that douche to the curb.

Use at your own risk. You might pick up a few stalkers along the way, but that is to be expected.

Dr Love.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

the first 24

Last night I had the option of going to a Strokes gig, as they were playing a secret gig in Camden Lock - tickets had gone on sale the night before for £10, and were selling on ebay for £400.. being that I work in Camden - a couple of friends and I decided that we would carry some cords and lighting equipment around and pretend to be part of the crew in order to sneak in.. yeah that HDMI cable can work wonders!!!!!!!!!!!!!... but instead I ran home to be with Lenny.

Strokes Shmokes... it's all about Lenny's first 24 hours in London.

I ran to the tube. I tapped my foot impatiently for the 6 stops home. I skidded across the platform and pushed in front of some idiot who couldn't use his Oyster card properly and then ran up Ladbroke Grove till I got to my front door, sprinted up the stairs and opened my door and put my face in Lenny's hairy belly.

mmmmmmmmmmmmm. bliss.

There is no doubt in my mind that Lenny remembered who I was - a few insensitive jerks had been harping on the whole time Lenny was away that he wouldn't know who I was when he got here.. well in your face!!!!!!!! he knew. He was flopping around on the floor and shadowing me around the house, and at night he purred the whole night and slept in every single one of his sleeping positions. On the blankets, under the blankets, in the armpit nook, pressed up against my back, in the vag-nook, in mark's nook, with his head on the pillow. So cosy!!!

So far - he is enjoying the London scene from our kitchen window.

Not that Lenny knows where he is i'm sure.. although that looooooong trip in the weird plane surely must have figured something in his brain that he is not in Neutral Bay anymore. But I do have some tips for him so that he becomes London Streetsmart - should he ever stick his head out in the freedom beyond the flowerbed ledge.

Point 1: 1 and 2 pence are useless -throw these in the bin. They are nice treats for homeless Indian children who live on garbage dumps in Mumbai to find when they get shafted with all our garbage as that is what the western world does to them.

Point 2: out of the 6 seats on the tube that you sit in, 2 out of those 6 people in these seats will have some kind of mental illness - the talking to yourself mental illness, or the OCD rubbing moisturiser all over your face mental illness... luckily most people in London are used to mental people and don't blink an eye.

Point 3: don't illegally dump garbage on my garbage tree or I will smash your face in.

I think as long as Lenny can get his head around these things - London and Lenny will be simpatico.

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Sunshine is here.

Wednesday Morning.... I rise early to get to the car, so we can get to the airport and pick up Lenny!!! finally the day has arrived!!!!!!! it's been soooooooo long, and I am soooooo excited. Lenny flies into Heathrow at 6am, but he takes about 4 hours to clear customs, I call up the customs officials to make sure he is fine and they assure me that he is doing well..

The drive is long, and when we get to the animal quarantine reception area it seems like we have gone back in time to 1980's Coffs Harbour. A family of americans just off the plane are asleep on the seagreen couches that litter the reception area - which is reminiscent of a sundeck that someone grandmother has converted into a loungeroom, a shitty 80's television has some crappy talkshow on, and even the ad's look 80's.. I swear I am in a timewarp.

The Americans nap and patiently wait for their animals to be released, it looks like they have been here for hours. We settle into a corner of the plastic green couches and wait patiently for Lenny. Every time the door to the customs area opens everyone jumps up and looks at the door with baited breath. 99% of the time it is a false alarm, staff come out and go to the 80's vending machine, someone runs past with papers, animal handlers run past with leads.... no cats though.

Finally a lady comes out for me to sign the release forms for Lenny!!!! it is exciting.. but then we settle in for more waiting around as they go back inside and get lenny ready for us. I stare at the door and burn holes through it. Eventually someone comes out and Lenny is in the room with us again for the first time in 7 months. It's an emotional moment. I thank the lady and grab my cat and run with him to the car so we can get him home as soon as possible.

Lenny looks really harassed, exactly like someone who had been on a flight from Sydney to Heathrow would look. He is in a daze and isn't very responsive at first - then he spies us through the grates of his cage and starts meowing - so at least I know he is conversational as per usual.

When we get Lenny home - he jumps straight out of the cage and wanders around the house sniffing things, and being a lot better behaved than I thought he would be - he is in a state though - having been in a cage for 24 hours he is whiffy and needs a good bath, and I surmise that now is as good a time as ever and we give him a good wash so that when he climbs into bed with us later tonight he smells like pantene and not cagey cat wee. Lenny doesn't seem to mind, and purrs the whole time whilst I cradle him in my arms and dry him off.

Now he wont leave us alone and follows us all around the apartment: the whole 2 rooms. We are like "yes lenman, there is this room, or the other room - there isn't a lot to choose from..." he seems freaked out by the floorboards and prefers to stay on the carpet.

I only had an hour to hang out with him before I had to come into work, but this weekend will be nothing but hanging with lenny - sleeping in my nook. Yay.

Monday, June 07, 2010

Countdown to Lenman = 48 hours

This is Lenman right now:

Well almost... at the moment he is fuck you-ing the whole world from his transport carrier. He flies out 6am Sydney time on Tuesday morning, so no doubt he is hissing and shitting his pants all over the place.

I did warn the pet couriers that Lenny is 'special' (which means he hates anything not in his comfort zone - which means if he's not on Georgina's couch, or in the vag nook he is going to rip your eyes out) they said they have a room to put cats in that freak out. Good. He is owning that room right now.

He flies over on Malaysian Airlines which is a 5 star airline. phew. only 5 star is good enough for Lenny... specially when you're spending $2500 to get a cat over to England.. yeah $2500, I realise I could buy 2500 regular cats for that, but they aren't and will never be Lenny.

Tick Tock.

Neighbours

I think it's just a universal truth that you will always have freaky freakshow neighbours. No matter where you are, no matter if you move to the other side of the globe the freakshow will always live right next door to you... or in my case right above.

During the five years at my previous home I had a slew of annoying neighbours who tested the boundaries of my sanity.. the Screamy Screamersons: who would lock their toddler outside the apartment to scream in the stairs all morning from 6am. That was fun. And then the Terrorist Weirdo who would go through the garbage and kick cans around and yell at Leprechauns and Tigers at 3am... oh and the schizophrenic weirdo who would hide behind the mailboxes and creep around the building in a nightie (at all times of the day).. for awhile there I thought it was just my apartment block and that all the freaks with mental illness magnetised themselves to it. But then I moved to London and realised it's not the apartment block that is the freak magnet - it is me.

When we moved into our Ladbroke Grove apartment we met our neighbour who I shall call "stompy stomperson", we had a nice chat in our communal staircase, she was really happy a nice couple had moved in and it would be a nice change to the guy who lived there before us who never spoke a word to her in the hallways, effectively giving her the big Snub Off.

6 Months later and I am jumping onto the Snub Off bandwagon, headed to Fuck You Stompy Stomperson: Population 1.

Our building is old... like built in the 1800's..ie: thin floors.... at first my biggest concern was poltergeists and dead bodies buried in the foundation and the ghosts of world wars/poverty and fire moving my shit around in the night and hovering over my head as I slept with one eye open.
All this poltergeist worry was un-necessary as they would have moved along years ago to a much quieter apartment as Stompy's stomping around upstairs would have peeved them off long before I arrived.

I'm not sure what she does for a living but as soon as you crawl into bed around 11ish, and settle your head on your pillow a huge thump will jolt you out of bed because it sounds like Stompy just stage dived off her bed onto the woodfloor.

She stagedives, she drops giant things on the ground.. it sounds like she re-arranges the furniture in her bedroom every single night... there is no normal reason for so much furniture being dragged around every single night. DRAAAAAAG THUMP. STOMP STOMP. CRASH. THUD.

For these reasons, I don't speak to her in the hallways anymore either. This is also exacerbated by the fact that she is a freak who purposely turns on the light on in the hallway so it shines through to our bedroom.. we spoke to her about it, and she was like "oh yeah your lightswitch is broken, sometimes I have to come down at night to stick a knife into the socket to turn it off.. so if you ever see me through your peephole wielding a knife at your door i'm just turning the light off"

HA! That was the final straw for me and my blanking her, for one: don't stick knives into my light socket, second don't wield knives in my doorway, and thirdly don't lie about wielding knives to turn the lightswitch off because we now have to check the lightswitch is off before we go to bed only to find that she has purposely turned it on at 3 in the morning !!!!!! freak.

So basically if you have a serious mental illness, there are some apartment availabilities in my block and i'd like to welcome you to the neighborhood.

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Guess Who!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Guess who is back after a loooooooooong absence...........

Look's who's back.
Back again
Lenman's back.
Bring a friend.

LENMAN

He is moving to England on Wednesday, so there is a lot of excitement in the air.. Lenny Excitement!!!!!!!!!!!

He will probably be a lot less excited, what with the enemas, strange cage, terminal velocities, but he will be more excited when we take him to his new home (tiny apartment) where he can take his angst out on our landlords couch. The days of taking it out Sydney's couches are drawing to a close....


At least he flies via Kuala Lumper, even I haven't been there!! he better pick me up some souveniers.. (flight poos are not acceptable)

Weeeeeeeeeeeeee Lenman!!!!!!!!!!!! The love of my life.. (sorry mark)

Friday, June 04, 2010

The Garbage Trees

You know what bugs me? the saying "children of all ages..." so basically anyone between 0 - 10 years old.. so just "Children" then... this is a stupid saying.

Speaking of Stupid... on my london street we have what I refer to as "the garbage trees". We have trees, but we also have poles where garbage mounds sprout from the ground like upside down spring blooms.

Essentially, London is just a city covered in garbage. We have 3-4 pick ups a week, but there is nowhere to actually put the garbage, not like sydney where you put your garbage in a bin, then put the bin in the bin place and then garbage men come and clean the bins away.. here it's more like:

you have garbage, garbage goes into bag, bag goes onto street... but it's not just anywhere on the street - its a particular part of that street - ie: the pole outside of our house has somehow become the garbage collecting pole that everyone on our block somehow decided through some mental osmosis would become the communal garbage dumping place. ??? who knows why?? i sure wasn't there at that meeting.

So the garbage dumping spot has become the 'garbage tree' to me.. mmm look at that garbage tree, sprouting some... pasta flowers... and some bonnet of a car.

Anyway - i'm right sick of the garbage trees. Not that I begrudge the garbage tree itself (everyone's got a place in this world) but does there need to be a big festering pile of garbage every day??? i could settle for 3 days a week at most.

This is where the Garbage Detectives come into play... Because the garbage trees are in a constant state of blooming, you can call the council and report illegally dumped garbage and they will send out the Garbage Inspectors to go through said garbage to find out who is responsible for the mess.

so basically I am a Garbage Informant.

I've already called them up to report offensive garbage, and to make them put up a sign "Yo! no garbage here niggaz and bitchez!" .. it's only a matter of time till I have a trenchcoat and some binoculars and they call me DICK GARBAGE... or The Garbage Dick.. either or.

I got my eyes on you.. pasta nappy carrot peelings trees.

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

Oooh Laa oo Ra-Ra

The best concert I have ever seen was Kylie Minogue's 'On A Night Like This' tour in 2001. The sets, the costumes, the dancers. It has been unparalleled for the past 10 years. Even though I love seeing certain bands perform; silverchair, Hole... Nothing could compare to that concert in terms of its spectacular spectacular element.

Lady Gaga changed all that.
Last night I went to The Monster Ball, and it was the sic-est concert I have ever seen.

First up though.... The opening act "semi precious weapons" wow. these guys will be mega huge. I loved all their songs, the lead guy is the gayest gay who ever nanced down the pike with unrivalled stage presence. I predict big things with my inner prediction-o-meter. I'm glad they are playing for more than 12 people and feel like fucking rockstars.

Sidenote: what the fuck is with people who stand at a concert and film the whole fucking show on their shitty phones and tiny cameras!?!??! when are you ever going to watch that grainy piece of shit footage??? I find it so frustrating when you are trying to watch the performance on stage and some nonce in front of you has both hands in the air in your viewing position filming the whole concert. Some jerk had a phone in one hand and a camera in the other!??! are you going to sell that footage?? the same footage that 20,000 other assholes filmed on their shit cameras?? Sorry, but I go to concerts to enjoy them and watch them with my eyeballs, not through a screen - and if I ever did want to watch the footage I'd wait for a properly mastered DVD to hit the shelves.

Anyway.. the concert.

We are in the 02 Arena, which is much smaller than I anticipated - I was figuring it would be the size of Acer but I was happily surprised to note that it was no bigger than the Sydney Entertainment Centre. We are front row centre.

The show begins with footage of Lady Gaga being projected onto the curtains and the first bars of 'Dance in the Dark' begins - I am so happy because this is one of my favourite tracks from the Fame Monster album. The set reveals her standing on a podium singing behind the curtain with just her silhouette on display. When this song is over the curtain rises and the show has officially begun.

The Monster Ball Tour is a place that she is taking us, on a figurative, imaginative, musical rock journey. The set involves a car that is broken down - and she goes into her next song 'Just Dance'. Her back up dancers and her band are great. the boys are all super sexy and homosexual, and the band is tight with the back-up singers the perfect mix of melody without chiming into the main vocals of Gaga.

Other songs she performs are: Eh Eh, Beautiful Dirty Rich, Lovegame, The Fame, Money Honey, Boys Boys Boys, So Happy I Could Die, Poker Face, Brown Eyes, Teeth, Monster, Speechless, Alejandro, Telephone, Paparazzi, Bad Romance.

All the while she takes us on a journey on a subway, through the forest, through a tornado, and battles a giant fame monster to end up at the Monster Ball.

Lady Gaga engages the audience the entire time, opening up with details about herself, and speaking her Gaga Manifesto, calling us all her Little Monsters (which the salute for is the "Claw" made so famous in the Bad Romance filmclip) She sets her piano on fire and lies on the keys playing in just her stilettos she lays herself on the pyre as a sacrifice for us.. In between songs and sets there are little skits about the journey to the monster ball - complete with amazing costume changes throughout. Lady Gaga covers herself in blood and asks us to clap for her or she will die. She says no man will ever hold a candle to the love she has for her fans and she will die on stage performing for us one day.

The Costumes: Most of the time she is a scantily clad gaga, however it is always a layer upon layer contraption that she sheds to reveal the whore's outfit that lies beneath.

I found the concert was reminiscent of the Madonna's 'Blonde Ambition' Tour of the 1990's. She employs the same costumes and dancing and gay boys, but with a much more modern take. Lady Gaga is able to outshine her contemporaries for the fact that she isn't just a singing dancing muppet, she is vocally amazing with a talent for playing instruments - which is always lacking in other arena spectaculars of the other power women of the main stage.

Overall I found the concert incredibly fun, innovative, creative - even if she is stealing from the fore mothers of arena pop-princesses, she is doing it in a new theatrical way which is a rock cabaret that everyone can enjoy, from the 8 year olds who saw their first homosexual interracial kiss, and the 80 year olds who saw a revamped version of the old which come and come again, but at least this time the main act sets the stage on fire, slays the monster and delivers all her hits to a jumping crowd who sing along to her every song.... well the ones that weren't holding two cameras were (losers)

LADY GAGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA