Tuesday, August 30, 2011

doin it the Antelope Way

sometimes I think us humans have many things we can learn from the animal kingdom. I usually think these thoughts after a lengthy afternoon spent wallowing in my own stench watching nature documentaries.

I'm not condoning bestiality or anything, but animal sex is quite interesting. I like the do or die way that animals decide who to mate with. Just once I would like to be the woman that all the male elephant seals have a giant battle over. not once have I ever been at the center of a row like that. No one has ever lost their nostril over wanting me that bad.

(sexy.)

There are other ways in which I am sexually jealous of the animal kingdom - they have things sorted out, they have got down to the basics of it, no messing around here.

Take for instance the white eared kob antelope of Uganda.

Life would have been soooooooo much easier if we could all adopt the mating rituals of the white eared kob....

Male pees on the ground. Female pees all over the kobs face. Then they get it on.

What can be easier than that!??!?!!

No more leg shaving, ill-fitting bras and pointy underwire, no more reading boring newspapers to come up with intellectual conversation, no more pretending to like sport and beer, no more listening to moany womens conversations about if he likes you or not. The antelopes truly have the romance of relationships down to its most basic tactics.

Probably a good thing I'm married because I would be the hairy lady who pees everywhere trying to find a mate... "Do you think you can do better than that!!!!" (I am that lady anyway come to think of it)

Made in Funda

One of the best shows on the teev this year was Made in Chelsea. It was just sooooooooo stupid and over the top ridiculous, that it could only be awesome. The clothes were awesome, the conversations that ended in long awkward blank stares and silences were awesome, Olly the Bi (but clearly just Gay) and his singer girlfriend were awesome. Then you have Spencer and his model girlfriend Funda - writing new laws of awesomeness in having a complicated and stupid relationship.


Funda was this high class model/dancer, who made herself a six figure salary, and therefore didn't need no mans taking care of her! (swish swish Finger-Z in your face Spencer)

So high class.... she must have been running low on G-String funds hence needed to do this United Stationary Catalogue.. for 2011..

The best one is of her playing peek-a-boo with the scissors. I'm sure if she had acted this carefree with a love of stationary Spencer wouldn't have dumped her, then gone to the south of France with Caggie, and professed his undying love for her, then had to endure a really awkward fancy garden BBQ when Funda walks in and is all "wtf spencer!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

sooooooooo awesome.

Carnival is the Best. Bold. Underline.

Our first apartment in London was on Ladbroke Grove, on the third floor: as in the perfect position to watch the Notting Hill Carnival go past. It would have made up for being vibrated off the couch every time the 452 went whizzing past.. yet my brain once again failed me last year - because I booked a trip to Barcelona on that August Long Weekend, missed out on the Carnival and got third-degree-burns from my boobs down. We came home that long weekend on the Monday night, we had to beg the police to let our taxi down our street, because I would never have made it down there alive. There were Bins on fire, Chickens being roasted on sticks in the middle of the road, and people just passed out on the street.

I have seen Armageddon, and it's name is Ladbroke Grove after Carnival.

This year I wasn't going to be such a putz, and made sure we didn't have anything coming up that weekend because I was going to Carnival!!!! I had heard many mixed things about Carnival, some people love it, some people hate it. I can understand that if you had travelled across London to be there and were stuck in a crowd of half a million people and needed to pee. Luckily - our apartment we live in now is still only a 5 minute walk to Carnival.

What can I say about Notting Hill Carnival? other than it is the best thing I have ever been to. So many people having a great time together, dancing in the street together, and not letting any political bullshit, or racial tensions, or rioting madness ruin a truly fantastic vibe of a day.
This is a speaker system set up outside one of the apartments we looked into renting. It was £500 a week, about the size of a shoebox, and people could see in if you were in the bathroom, (bargain! nice on Foxtons!) and just imagine trying to sleep during Notting Hill Carnival with these speakers just outside your bedroom window? I danced in front of these for about 30 seconds and went deaf.

The Carnival is all about food, music, and community. The Parade is fantastic. It is like Halloween, Mardi Gras, and a protest movement combined. The Sunday is the 'Childrens Day'.. well even that was pretty crazy, Monday is when the Parade is cranked up a notch, and the barely dressed ladies get their turn to shine.

I had the best time. The food is great. You can walk into a street and see some guys mixing it up on some decks freestyle MC'ing. Soooo awesome.
Rhuane Laslett one of the founders of Notting Hill Carnival had a dream, and that dream was about people dancing in the street and music, so it's good to see that something based on the purity of having a good time still exists without a complete corporate take-over, and the police blending into the periphery.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Drug Addict Magnet

Whenever I go to see a band they never play my favourite song. Yeah they play all their 'best' songs, but never my faaavourite song. What's the go with that?? Go see Lykke Li - she doesn't play 'Complaint Department' (which is the best song on the album in my opinion) I go and see Weezer and they don't play one song off Hurley?! Memories! Hello. And on Saturday I went to the South West Four Festival purely to see Underworld, and they don't play Bird 1. wtf world. wtf!!?!

Seeing Underworld in London was a definite must-see event since moving here. I can not describe my love for Underworld in mere words. I think they write the best music which can not be described by a mere genre heading. Karl Hyde is the most poetic song writer, his lyrics are amazing. His songs make me cry with happiness.. well Bird 1 does.

SW4 was sold out, and was henceforth known as Underworld Day.. it felt wrong to have to correct people who thought that Underworld Day meant seeing a gay vampire vs werewolves movie. If that's what Underworld means to you - I can't help you.

I love festivals. Seeing a band play outside to a crowd of 20,000 people and being a part of that is so amazing. And it was amazing. To be surrounded by 19,998 people who were completely fucked out of their brains on drugs.

When we arrived at SW4 the whole place was a mud-bath mess from the rain the previous day, having experience in this field, I tackled my way through the mud sticking to the edge, should some knob think it hilarious to tackle me into the mud and ruin the whole day (it's happened to me before) What I found amusing were the people who were wearing thongs.. ideally at a festival where the ground is all mud you would wear Wellies, or sneakers you can throw out, but not thongs. I saw many rookie mistakes.. those thongs got stuck in the mud, and those people had to go barefoot and I can't describe how disgusting that must have been. Just think of all the foot diseases you would have afterwards. Tinea. Toe Herpes. Standing on a badly cooked Burrito Foot Poisoning. Yuck. I scouted out the least muddy area next to a fence close to the stage and that is where we stood for 5 hours waiting for Underworld.

Many Many things happened during this 5 hour period.

First of all the main drug dealer of the festival was also standing in front of the fence in the dry part - so all day we saw people coming up and buying bags of crystal MDMA. For a festival that had a 'no drug policy' they sure didn't mind the blatant drug use happening at every square foot of the place. Everyone around us had their fingers dipping into their little plastic bags of MDMA...

It started to rain, and because I always come prepared I had an umbrella. Just like that Kelis song - my Umbrella brings all the druggies to the yard. I would put the umbrella up then suddenly about 5 guys off their faces would be squished up against me. I was like the Mother Hen in that field. If anything, the MDMA usage did make for a very friendly and talkative crowd.

Then Pete Tong was on, and it was about 45 minutes before underworld were about to start and something happened to the crowd. Old Mister Drug Dealer at the Fence had sold what I could only assume to be Very Very Bad Drugs. A group of people we saw buying drugs off this guy appeared, and they were a very different group from the one we had seen walking through the crowd earlier. This group of people couldn't even stand up. Their eyes were rolling into the backs of their heads, there was a guy who was about 30 and he was standing their shivering bathed in sweat, unable to move and clinging to the fence to keep from falling off the planet. Horrible. Then they all started partner sharing and having a giant love in?? I could think of nothing worse than pashing someone who had just pashed a guy who had just thrown up. Wrong!

I think Mark and I being the only two people in that festival who weren't on drugs gave us some sort of safety beacon. Because people who were about to die kept coming near us and sitting down, or laying against us, I was fully prepared to use my first aid training to stop a person from overdosing.

Yes I have taken drugs at festivals, so i'm not going to be a hypocrite who says "dont take drugs at festivals" but maybe don't take soooo many drugs?! When Underworld finally came on stage I don't think anyone even realised. When I love a band like I love Underworld, I don't need no stinkin drugs. They are my drug.

They were amazing. Flawless. King of Snake. Cock Thrusting Lasers. Karl Hyde is the coolest Motherf*cker in the World. And they played this song.. Favourite Number 2.

Better than Pete 'i mix it up on the iPad2" Tong.

Friday, August 26, 2011

The Great Tabbouleh Poisoning of 1994

One thing you need to know about me - is that I don't do things by halves. No No I go all the way. They don't call me All the Way Ray for nothin! (no one calls me this)

When given a food substance that I find delectable, I will eat that food substance until nothing but the sweet memory remains. This week I overdosed on Pineapple. I love Pineapple (sometimes) When you find good pineapple that isn't too acidic it's game on. Game On Pineapple. After eating a Pineapple the size of my head I wasn't feeling so great though. I don't think I can look at another Pineapple for some time to come.. but I know I will always go back, because that's just the type of person I am... forgiving.

And that is why Parsley owes me a lot. Parsley, I might never have forgiven for what it did to me. What I had to endure from too much Parsley. Here is the story of what happens when you have too much Parsley.

Back in 1994 I was in High School. A High School with friends doing Home Economics. Personally I had no time for Home Economics, what I did enjoy was basking in the after-glow of the food that other people had cooked up. Normally it was a bit of a scramble to get anything because what idiot is going to give away a free lasagna they just spent two hours learning how to cook.

Luckily for me - when the whole class cooks Tabbouleh.. nobody wants that

Back then I fricken loved tabbouleh. It would be like today if someone I knew owned an olive grove and said I could go swimming in their olive pool and could eat as much olives as I wanted. I would sink to the bottom of that pool and die an oily olive death.

But this was 1994, and I liked 3 things: Warren G, East 17, and Tabbouleh.

And I had a class of 30 friends who didn't want their lunchboxes full of the Middle Eastern Tabbouleh goodness.. I know who did though........... me.

I was in the Mohammad Reigned Tabbouleh Heaven. I ate my way through all those lunchboxes like I was going for a world record. Nobody in my school had ever seen anyone eat so much Tabbouleh. I should have won a little prize and had a plaque on the school hall for future generations to walk past, so they could bask in my glory, and learn a very important lesson.

Later that night when I palmed dinner off, being unable able to move from all the Tabbouleh in my belly, I went to bed, rested in the fact that I still had about 6 more lunchboxes full of Tabbouleh to get through the next day.

However. The next morning I awoke in screaming agony. I have never been in so much pain in my life. I felt like a knife was being shoved up my no-no hole. This was a bad sign, and after vomiting and being married to the toilet all morning, I was quickly taken to the doctors.

The doctor saw I was in bad shape. She figured I must have an inflamed appendix on the cusp of bursting, and that she was going to have send her men in to check it out. And by men - I mean fingers.. and by check it out.. I mean stick her men in my bumhole to touch my appendix to suss out the damage.

24 hours before I was knee deep in Tabbouleh having the time of my life?! Now I'm in the doctors surgery being anally raped?!! how the f$!k does this happen to a person?

I'll tell you how it happens. Parsley has trace elements of arsenic in it, and when you eat 5kg of the stuff, you get arsenic poisoning, and end up shuddering in horror when someone waves a leaf of Parsley in front of you for years to come.

I have moved on. Time heals all wounds and I am happy to say that I am safe once again eating Tabbouleh when the situation arises.. although it'd be more like a handful, rather than 20 lunchboxes full.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

and the award for best Shoe goes to....

I had a party to go to last night. I like to party. Except I was still feeling internally rank from my Tuesday sickness. But I soldiered on.. I packed an outfit and made it through the day until it was finally Party-Time. And that is when I realised I had forgotten one very important aspect of the outfit. Shoes. And furthermore to that I also forgot to shave my legs. And the party was somewhere super fancy, and standing there with my rank shoes and leg hairs blowing in the wind was not going to cut it!

So I improvised. I disguised my Yeti-Legs with moisturiser... ahh moisturiser, it's like leggings in liquid form. Stick those hairs down. And then I went down to the magical end of the building - the fashion section.

I love the fashion section. Many a day at work is spent just trying on clothes and hanging out in the dumpster doing fashion shoots. So I knew exactly what shoes I wanted to borrow.
Unfortunately I didn't have my David Bowie from Outer Space outfit that day, but I did have the shoes. And my shoes were the best shoes at the party. Which was a great thing. There is something fab about having the best shoes at the party, even when they aren't even your shoes, and you could never in a million years own those shoes because they are designed for people like Madonna and Lady Gaga to wear whilst doing media interviews.

Now if only there was a way to have the Best Hair in the World....

My Book Cover

I have been on a mission of late. A mission to find the picture of Myself and Herb Pubesman. I know this picture exists. I have emailed everyone vaguely connected to the party, I will probably never be invited to another party again.

"who invited the chick with the obsession for the old geezer??"

After crawling every nook of cyberspace - I have hit photographic bronze. It's a picture of Herb with me in the Background - proving that he does exist and we did meet.

Here I present to you - Herb Pubesman.

This is going to be the cover of my book one day. I feel inspired already.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Fully Sic Days

Taking a sick day is lose-lose situation. For one - you are sick, and when you are back at work everyone wants to know exactly how sick you were - to gauge whether or not you qualify for a sick day..When you have a sick day it's all of a sudden everyone's business.

Yesterday I took a sick day, as I could feel the flu coming on, and rather than being a disgusting mucus mess at my desk all day and infecting everyone else (gallant!)- I figured I would take some Night Nurse and sleep the day away, moving from the bed to the couch and continuing my horizontal war against germs. My plan worked and I am considerably less phlegmy today - score.

Today I am at work and everyone is giving me the total side eye... "so what was wrong with you yesterday??" "you look...... well!".. you know why I look well! Cos I took a fucking sick day. No one says "hey thanks for not coming in and giving us your germs!" I can't stand it when someone comes in sick - namely because I know I'm bound to catch what they have, and have to walk around disinfecting everything I touch.

In terms of the sick day pay-off it's really not worth it. I have NEVER taken a sick day and then gone off and had a picnic in the park, rented a convertible sports car and gone on a roller-coaster. Why then do people immediately think you are skiving having the best time of your life on a sick day?

Yesterday I moved downstairs to the couch, Lenny got into my armpit nook whilst I watched a documentary on the worlds fattest lady who had to have a wall knocked down from her flat and craned into the ambulance. That lady's whole life is one never ending sick day. Then I napped intermittently all day before getting up and hunting for food in the empty cupboards - I found two plums and some milo. And people think I am skiving off work for this!!! Puh-lease, If I was skiving off work I would come up with something better than lounging in my own stench. That is what weekends are for.

Last year I had 2 sick days - one of those was when I had third degree sunburn all over my body from that time we went to a beach in Spain and I thought "they have an ozone layer! I don't need your stupid suncream!" When I got to work everyone wanted to see my sunburn, to prove that my sunburn was reason enough to take a sick day. My sunburn was luckily bad enough to impress everyone - and I peeled my skin off and left it on someones phone for questioning my sunburn pain.

One time I was working with this psychotic crazy lady - whom would tell everyone exactly what was wrong with me if I took a sick day. I had to take a sick day one time because my face had an allergic reaction to my face cream and swelled up like a melon. The next day when I got back to work everyone who I spoke to on the phone was like "how is your rash??" Um FINE! How is your rash!

So not worth it.

The Language of Love

To some - listening to Mark & I have normal conversation may sound like we are constantly fighting/on the verge of divorce. I say to those naysayers that we are speaking the language of love. We have our own way of saying things - it's like a secret bitchy code that only the two of us understand. For Instance:

Mark is growing a beard, which I don't like, so I call him "Homeless Jesus" - which is a far nicer thing to say to someone than "I hate your fugly beard - please shave that shit off before you touch me"

It also took us about 45 minutes to get dressed this morning as we were trying to get dressed for the day, but also pack clothes for a party that night. Which is hindered when either of us gives feedback on the other person's outfit choices

"You look like you are selling stationary.. ooh shall I tell you all about our deals on pens and printers??"
"You look like you're wearing your dad's wedding jacket"
"You look like a hooker in those tights"
"If you wear that outfit I won't talk to you at the party. I will pretend my wife couldn't make it"

All of which to the untrained ear - is just the two of us saying "wear whatever you like - you look fabulous"

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Gyroball strikes Again

Lenny has been throwing up a lot. When I say a lot, I mean - he's been throwing up consistently about once a week for several months. Generally we just vacuum up the spew and tell Lenny to quit licking his sack all night then you won't throw up hairballs all morning.

Then one morning we thought we should maybe take him to the vet - after all, if there is something wrong with our fur-baby I want to know about it now. So I can start putting money aside into the Clone fund, and so we took Lenny to the vet and they diagnosed him simply as being bored.

Bored! Yeah I could think of a few things you could do to relieve the boredom that don't involve yacking it up all over the rug every morning. Like claw a couch to shreds or something?? Anyway - the vet said we needed to add more stimulation to Lenny's life and hence the Gyroball made it's way into our lives.

When we were high in Amsterdam - we got sucked into watching the home shopping network.. first we laughed at Chuck Norris' exercise equipment and then an ad for the Gyroball came on. Now the Gyroball is some magical ball built for messy little kids - you put whatever you want in the magic ball and no matter what happens - gravity will be defied and your milk and cereal will never end up on the floor. You can even put dog-poo in it and it will become edible!! (ok - maybe I just made that part up) the point is - we totally got suckered into wanting one of these Gyroballs. Imagine throwing a bowl of pasta across the room and none going on the floor!! amazing.

Apparently the masterminds who make Gyroball also make Gyroball for Cats - the aim being that the cats play with Gyroball and little crunchie treats will be released.

Yeah that's only going to work if your cat has trained with NASA astronauts.

Lenny is by no means a stupid cat - but he did fall off a ledge once, and he gets consistently stuck in the cupboard for hours at a time.. I mean - there is no way he is winning a cat show intelligence category anytime soon.

I don't think he even knows what the magical ball of food is - and he certainly isn't going to play with it anytime soon. He just walks around looking like he wants to kill us for inflicting such a stupid item in front of him deemed as 'play' when we all know Lenny's favourite thing to do as 'play' is sticking his butt in your face when you in the bed of a morning.

The vet also sold us a cat toothbrush that if possible has been embraced more than the Gyroball. That vet saw a couple of suckers a mile away.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

WM3 are Free

I first came across the West Memphis Three in 2003 after watching the documentary 'Paradise Lost'. It was such a shocking and glaringly obvious case of injustice that you can't just sit back and let three guys die a lonely death, one on death row.
So I became involved in the Free the WM3 movement. I organised a fundraiser at a Sydney venue where a bunch of bands played in support of raising money and awareness. This was not a case that I was going to let go of anytime soon.

I regularly check the updates on the WM3 website, every week for 8 years, reading news about new evidence, DNA testing, juror misconduct, false testimony - reading all this and thinking that this is not a matter of if they get out prison it's when.

So imagine my surprise when after a night out after work on a Friday I get home and Mark is reading the IMDB news on his phone and he tells me I should look at the WM3 website.

I look at the website and they are Free.

The West Memphis Three are Free! What?!

I had looked at the website earlier that week and there was nothing about any upcoming hearings or trials. One second they're sitting in prison, the next they are at a press conference talking about their plea agreement and being free men.

Crazy.

But not as Crazy as the terms of their Freedom. Perplexing is one way to describe it. In order to gain freedom they had to put in a plea known as the Alford Plea - where the defendant is able to maintain their innocence, whilst acknowledging that the state has enough evidence against against them for a guilty verdict. wtf kind of plea is that!???!!

In my opinion - they were allowed to enter this plea because there is no way the state of Arkansas is ever going to admit they imprisoned the wrong men. The prosecutor in this case has gone onto being a Supreme Court Judge. Another prosecutor has gone onto the Senate - maybe running for Governor one day. Do you think these are men who will admit any wrongdoing?? to admit that would mean they failed 6 families, 3 wrongfully convicted young men, and 3 victims who hadn't yet had a chance at life. They convicted the wrong men, and therefore let the guilty persons walk free. A murderer is still out there. And if you know anything about the Child Murders of Robin Hood Hills - you will know that this was a heinous and viscous crime, and whoever did it got away with it.

If the state had enough evidence against them for a guilty verdict they would have moved them into a lesser security prison but never allowed them to walk free! how ridiculous. So basically the state knew that given the amount of time that has gone since the original conviction, and all the reasons they put forward for their guilt would never hold up in a court today, so they had to release them as time served. It's a bittersweet victory, and at least they can try and find new evidence to get completely exonerated. I guess after 18 years you would agree to anything to get out of prison, especially after 10 years in solitary confinement on death row. Jason never wanted to enter this plea deal - because they are innocent! and why should they even mention that the state had enough evidence to convict so therefore plead guilty. He didn't want to do it, but he knew if he didn't they would give Damien the Lethal Injection. What an amazing friend.

Whilst their freedom is gained on grounds that aren't perfect, as least now they are free to be in the world. They entered the penal system as teenagers and leave as middle aged men. 18 years is a long time to wait for justice, even if it is the type of justice that leaves a bitter taste in one's mouth.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Holiday Sans Brain

It's no secret, that in any and all relationships - women are right and men are wrong. This is the eternal argument between man and wife, bf and gf, dog and cat. These arguments are put in the spotlight especially when on Holidays.

ie: On the weekend in Amsterdam we were way too high to order anything at the bar we were at so we argued over who was more capable of ordering a red wine off the menu, and the music was really loud and making us anxious, so we left and wandered around 20 canals trying to find our way home again.

Problem could have been easily solved if Mark had ordered the wine. Therefore - the argument is all his fault.

This is why I am interested as to what will happen when I venture off on my own to New York next month to catch up with my Sister-from-another-Mister, and Big Daddy. I have already mentioned the anxiety I foresee of getting home from the airport, and that is because the airport is always where the first arguments of the holiday begins. Traveling is just a euphemism for "arguing around the world"

Who chose this stupid immigration line to stand in? the other one is going much faster.
Can't you tell what your bag looks like compared to all the other matching black bags. what are you blind?
Why is your bag so heavy? Did you purposely bring the bag with the broken wheels to annoy me?
Why do you have to pee so many times when we are in the airport?
Don't say anything stupid to the immigration detective, this is not the time for jokes. Mark.

Traveling withe me is awesome!!!!!

But they are only play arguments - nothing compared to what goes down when we get out of the airport and have to figure out how to get to our place of residence. I mean - that is a hard feat - specially when you are in a country where all the signs are in another language. There are no universal signs that say "if you would like to get to the city centre - please catch the only bus that goes from this specific bus stop and will cost €3 in local currency that can be purchased on board and comes every half an hour". No signs like that exist. Once we were stuck in Pisa airport for about 2 hours whilst we tried to figure out how the public transport situation worked. But in the end - Mark tried his Italian Charms on a garbage man and I looked defenseless guarding our bags and we group mimed our way through the exchange of important information.

But the point is that two idiot brains are better than one. When I'm alone in the world, I only have my brain - and my brain is equally as inferior as Mark's brain. What chance do I have getting anything accomplished?

I remember the first time we went to New York and we found the taxi stand that made no sense, and there were no buses that made sense, and then some jive talking gangstas tried to talk us into getting into their Humvee and drive us into Manhattan..... now this is the problem right here.. if on my own I just might get talked into getting into a Humvee with a bunch of trendy strangers playing excellent rap music "it's so authentic!".. and then I end up in a crack den trying to pay off my taxi debt dancing all over Big Al's downtown stripper pole.

Which is why I have decided to book a Limousine Service - hey with the economic crisis happening over there by the time the Limo Driver picks me up and drives me to the Upper East Side - they will end up owing ME money. suckers. Thank You Republicans!

Amsterdam. 2.0

A wise friend once said to me `never travel to the same place twice'.. I think he meant 'amsterdam is the exception to the rule'.

Two years ago exactly we were in Amsterdam. Having the time of our lives. It was 30 degrees every day, we went to every museum Amsterdam had to offer, and we ticked every box that needs to be ticked in Amsterdam. (except seeing a live sex show - I will never need to tick that box)

So this year we thought we would go back and do it all the same. We booked the same loft. I was completely organised on where we had to go the second we stepped off the plane. And yes, I still love amsterdam.

Amsterdam has changed though, it sure were no 2009... in 2009 the sun set at midnight (so we thought) and this year 9.30pm.. in 2009 we sat outside on the canals getting a tan, this year we watched all the wet people wandering around in the rain from the safety of the loft.

We saw some amazing canal artistry:

I could write the next Banksy Movie. (if it were going to be 2 minutes long)

Then we walked down a street where the graf was totally killing the vibe

I mean - with all the riots happening around the place it was hard not to get a bad vibe from this sign. So we went upstairs and time stopped for 2 days.

I saw many many things... I saw a show about The Balloon Fuckers (I am disturbed for life) I saw an Opera that was being sung by a man who was a Thalidomide Baby (3 fingers. that man was just a head and 3 fingers!) Whoever programs the tv in that country definitely does it with people who are highhhhhhhhhhh in mind.

Then we looked all day for a movie and then Final Destination came on. And you know what we discovered from the subtext of the script... that your "departure time" is the same as your birthday.... so mark can never catch a plane at 8.15.. and I can never catch a plane at 7:09. Deep.

Then we realised that Ali Larter is amazing. And it's totally fine for J-Lo to make a come-back as long as she acknowledges the fact that she is J-Old. Older than the Egyptians. Older than the Stone-Age.. Older than Jesus. She is Old. Amsterdam. Don't be Old and on TV.

Other topics we delved into:

ANTS - who gives birth to the Queen Ant (A: the queen ants mother) and who is the slave really?? the worker ants or the queen who is trapped giving birth all the live long day.

HORSES - they don't want to chained up whilst stupid people on stupid buggies ride around on their backs!!!!!!!!!!!! FREE THE SLAVE HORSES!!!!!!!!!!!

TIBET - that is fucked up. Even Brad Pitt in that movie can't make the situation any better. Did you know they are sterilizing the Tibetan women and most of them are illiterate? genocide. buzz killer.

THE DALAI LAMA - pretty much just sounds like a bunch of old 60 year olds in yellow hats who find a bunch of babies and whichever baby picks up the old Dalai Lama's old spoon is the new Dalai Lama. sounds awesome.

CD'S - they had the laser disk cd, the compact cd, and i'm pretty sure they had a mini cd.. but I can't be sure.. also I think it was square.

WORK OUT EQUIPMENT - sure you can have Chuck Norris and Wesley Snipes and Oliver Newton John in your ad, but unless you have people using it in their pyjamas - then your ad isn't exactly appealing to my demographic.

I have magic fingers too. They are magical and can travel through space and time. weeooowoooo

Thursday, August 11, 2011

i pee on floors

I have a pretty weird toilet at my work. strange things appear in it. does anyone remember the story of the mystery poo? today we had a mystery puddle at work, and if you have learnt anything about my work, is that when something mysterious happens in our toilet everybody comes to look and put forth their ideas from whence the weirdness came from.

Today I was the pioneer who discovered the puddle of mystery. I was sitting there having a pee, congratulating myself on the all the sneaky farts I'd been doing at my desk all day, then when I stood up I noticed my feet were in a puddle of water.

Strange.

I don't remember coming in here and sitting down into a puddle of water.

So I did the first thing anyone else would do in my situation.. I told everyone there was a mystery puddle in the toilet. Everyone came to look.. where did it come from?? was someone having a water party in there? are there ghosts in the pipes??

Then they figured out that someone must have peed on the floor. But I was the last one in there.. sooooo by the theory of your hypothesis, it was me who peed on the floor.

To be honest, I would think I would remember peeing on the floor. I have been using a toilet for 30 years now, I should have the hang of it by now. I only have one recourse in my defense. The stupid wooden toilet seat. It's like its from the 1800's, no wonder my pee is ending up on the floor and not in the pipe. Either that or my urethra is broke and points out straight ahead like a fire hydrant hose pipe.

So glad I made everybody come and look.

I am not the type of person who needs a nemesis who goes around telling people embarrassing stories about myself. I am fairly capable of taking on the role of the inner villain as my stupidity has just now proved itself.

I truly believe these things..

You know what is the most insulting thing you can say to a person... "you watch too many movies".. wellllll I have to disagree with you on that. I can't watch enough movies.. and furthermore how do you think I learnt half the things I know today. This is where my streetsmarts come from.

ie: only and IDIOT would stand around in a puddle in an abandoned carpark.. Don't you know what could happen to you?! well I know. Because I've seen Poltergeist 3 about 20 million times. Suffer to those who haven't seen it and end up floating heads lost in an alternate dimension. There is no coming back from that. Unless crawling out of an old lady's face appeals to you.
not so much?

I also believe that there is a place somewhere that lunchpails grow on trees.


Which is why I have a lot of reservations about getting a cab to my friends house in New York next month. I don't want to end up chained to a heating duct underneath the New York Sewer system. I've seen The Bone Collector. I know what happens. You get in the cab, then you try to open the door and the razor blade slices your finger off and then someone finds your bloody finger in a refuse dump under the Brooklyn Bridge. I don't want that. That would ruin the trip completely if that happened.

I suppose I could swim to the island - because that worked out well for Darryl Hannah in Splash. Show up naked then a nice non-murdering cop drives you home. Easy.

I just have to hope that the apartment I am staying at isn't the top floor of a Georgian Mansion Apartment Block. And that whilst I am sleeping in the kitchen/loungeroom with my feet in the cutlery drawer, that Gozer doesn't come out to get me. To be honest the best way to test if Gozer is going to come out and possess you Ghostbusters style is to bring a packet of eggs into your kitchen, and if they jump out of the packet and start frying themselves on the bench then you know you got problems. I'm not saying that I don't want to end up all tarted up possessed out of my head on the roof of a building.. but I have other things to do too you know.

Pictured: Me - just your typical thursday night.

I also plan on doing some erotic pottery, eating some magical flying candy canes, making friends with a homeless lady in central park - whilst foiling the plans of two bumbling thieves, and taking some mind altering drugs and doing ass to ass.

Good times to be had! If I can get myself out of the airport.

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

one spark

last night I watched with unwavering concentration the London Riots unfold. Glued to the constant updates of the riots getting closer and closer to my house. My House. Why would they want to riot around my house?? I fell asleep listening to the BBC, with one ear on alert, so I could quickly pack my bag and strap Lenny to my chest if the Mob ended up outside my house.

It was a relentless news outpouring of mindless violence. And yet - there was no point to it. No point at all. People were wandering why? phone calls asking me why? everyone wanting to know why??

Is the Disaffected Youth a good enough answer?? I don't thinks so.

A young black guy is shot in police cross fire, a protest erupts in the neighborhood, which then spreads across London resulting in heritage buildings being burnt to the ground, apartment blocks on fire, and shopkeepers who will show up to their businesses this morning to a smoldering pile of ashes.

It's not Police Vs The Mob. It's Civilians vs Civilians.

It's disgusting. And yet what makes a 12 year old want to burn a building to the ground?? The police were appealing to the parents to keep an eye on their children. I don't think that is going to make any difference, if you have children willing to smash a building to steal everything from inside it - we failed that child a long time ago.

Kids in this country have it bad enough. You cross the street to avoid walking past them at night. They can't afford a good eduction. They can't get a job. Who is going to listen to their plight now? What did the little Turkish man who runs a newsagent ever do to you?? you destroyed his livelihood for no good reason.

It's hardly making a political statement to burn a Debenhams to the ground. What does a youth being killed in North London have to do with patrons at a restaurant in Notting Hill being mugged? Opportunistic Anarchy is what it is.

And you know who this is worst on? the people who had nothing to do with it. The young kids who didn't decide to lose their minds and start a riot. Honest hard working people who just want to go to work and have a home and go about life as normal. And yet when the retributions start it's the people who don't deserve it that will get the blame.

Already I have seen and heard a load of racist bigotry about who to blame - blacks. immigrants. australians. teenagers. anyone who is different. nice going rioters!! way to set everyone back 50 years. so much for living in the 21st century. The former Mayor of London said that this a mob of youths who is fearless. They have nothing to lose. How did this happen?

It's just senseless. Why burn down a carpet store, yet leave the KFC??

If it turns into another hellish night of fire I know where I am going. Chicken Cottage. no way will they burn that to the ground.

Monday, August 01, 2011

Jurassic Window Box

A lot of things make me uncomfortable. People leaning in too close during a conversation. People with BO stenching it up during a conversation. Thinking people can hear me whilst on the toilet.

And now - Mysterious Plants from Nowhere.

When we moved into our apartment the kitchen had a herb kitchen box... which was essentially a dead and brown things kitchen box. (no love. the previous tenants gave it no love). I tried to salvage it.. The Thyme grew in, the Rosemary Twigs had about 3 green leaves come in... and then the mystery thriving plant from nowhere shows up.
This plant is the healthiest most thriving plant I have ever seen. It can survive anything. Neglect. Hatred. And curse words yelled at it intermittently in between cooking pasta dishes.

"What the F@* are you!!! Where the F*% did you come from?! you F*%ing creepy-ass plant!!"

Where did it come from!?!?! What is it!!! Why is it in my window box!! Is it dangerous? It reminds me of that scene in Jurassic Park where Dr Ellie Sattler finds the giant green leaf, then a Brachiosaurus appears from nowhere. This is why I can't look out my kitchen window anymore. Now I don't have a naked tree to hide me from the neighbours, I don't know whose watching me. You never know when a perverted Brontosaurus might be looking at you through the window. Especially when Plants from the Triassic Period appear from nowhere.