So a co-hort of mine vowed to strip naked and run across stage if Sydney band
Faker didn't make it into the Triple J Hottest 100. That's right, folks - rock and roll. Anyhow, much to the relief of 2.4 percent of the nation's listening audience Faker made it to the top 10 and Robbie's trousers stayed on and during the live interview I thought I'd bring up this particularly jolly fact.
Me: So Nathan, are you pleased that Faker made it to number 5?
Nathan: Yeah, very.
Me: I bet you're slightly disappointed that Robbie didn't strip naked and run across the stage, though.
Nathan: (looking slightly perplexed) Er...
Me: Go on, you are a bit. Robbie Buck naked! Hilarious.
Nathan: ...Sure. Whatever.
****************
Of course, the next day I pull out my Sunday magazine and realised he's
just revealed himself to be gay. So once again I come across as the leering fucktard pointing out naked men to the homosexual. HAY LOOK A PENIS YOU LIKE THEM etc.
Or alternatively:
Me: Now New Kids On The Block are re-forming. Wild.
Jason: I know! I work on the third floor with all these 30-year-old women and they just keep putting the cd on and dancing around to it.
Me: (nudging slyly) Living the dream, Jason. Do they jiggle around much when they're doing it?
Jason: (smiling awkwardly) Ah...yeah.
*exits*
Robbie: Um...Jason might not actually be that enamoured of thirty-year-old women jiggling.
Me: Why not?
Lindsay: He's a bit...Nathan from Faker.
Me: ....oh.
**************************
I really need lessons in spotting this kind of stuff so I don't come across as a major dick. Apparently I just need to remember that every second man in Sydney is gay and take it from there. In the meantime - I'm cram-studying homo 101.
49 comments.
Gosh, he's endlessly entertaining.
"
I'm horrified and concerned that we're going to turn the Parliament of Australia into a dance parlour. But at the moment it's starting to indicate what the Rudd Government's going to be all about, show and not substance. Why not put neon signs on the top of Parliament, you know 'dances every friday night'."
He's absolutely right, as always. Let's see in the new year and the new government with some knees-up barnstorming. Wayne Swan can run the meat tray raffle. Peter Garrett can sell hooch in the toilets. A 'refreshed' Maxine McKew can lead the all-in Teen Wolf jive. LET'S CONVINCE AN ADULT TO BUY US A KEGGER etc.
Some ravers 'larging it', yesterday.
Honestly. Indigenous dancers at the opening of Federal Parliament? We're only steps away from a fucking eisteddfod, people.
23 comments.
A phone call, this morning:
Me: Weird news about
Heath Ledger.
Dad: I know. It's just awful.
Me: Mmm.
Dad: Jon Faine was saying this morning that there was no drug
paraphernalia around him. Just pills. So it's more likely to be suicide.
Me: Oh, really?
Dad: And then there was this woman who ran some Heath Ledger newsletter.
She said that Naomi Watts broke up with
him. Not the other way around. And then, you know, he did Brokeback with Michelle Williams and they fell in love and had a baby. As young couples do.
Me: Mmm.
Dad: But really, this lady was saying that Heath ended up with the
wrong woman. He was
never really over Naomi. It's so terribly tragic.
Me: You're better than New Weekly, you know that?
Dad: I'm just telling you what I heard.
******************************
Fathers: giving you the Perez Hilton DL since 1992.
52 comments.
So last weekend I realised my
best friend and her wholly handsome family would be headed to New South Wales for two weeks holiday. This made the pair of us outrageously excited; giddy at the prospect of a weekend's respite amongst the madness of an interstate move and waiting for that perfect best-friend exhalation that occurs when two like-minded souls are reunited after weeks apart.
Gabi: You and the ginger can drive up and hang out.
Me: Absolutely. I'll leave work first thing on Friday morning and get in the van. We'll pack the hound and some bitching wines.
Gabi: We'll be up on the coast - I'm not sure how far the drive will be....
Me: It can't be any more than a few hours. NSW is relatively small.
Gabi: Sweet. Can't wait to see you.
Me: We'll probably get there in time for breakfast. Keep the coffee warm, LOL.
******************************
This is how geographically retarded I am. Tim and I left Sydney at 10am. We arrived in Iluka at SEVEN O CLOCK IN THE EVENING.
Can you see right up the top there near Byron? That's where Gabi and Bob were. Can you see Sydney down the bottom? No? THAT'S BECAUSE IT'S NOT EVEN ON THE FUCKING MAP.
Honestly. It was worth driving eighteen hours to play scrabble with my best friend and flip off her baby and delicately hopscotch over bluebottle jellyfish on the beach, but next time I really need to learn how to read a goddamned map. What's wrong with me? 'New South Wales is tiny, we'll pop up for a lovely evening's entertainment'? I'm a professional fuckwad.
43 comments.
Goodness me.
Get a load of those teeth! I can't figure out if he's mid-growl or simply in possession of the finest overbite since Freddie Mercury.
You'd think someone might've noticed such a dentally challenged pornographic extra from Starsky and Hutch slipping away with poor old
Madeline McCann, wouldn't you? Honestly, Neighbourhood Watch these days etc.
31 comments.
'She isn't concerned that Andy Lee's cohort is an on-air rival – or the little matter of her current boyfriend.
"Hopefully we won't let our professional lives get in the way of our future romance," she said. "I'm still in negotiations with my boyfriend about the Hamish Blake open-relationship thing and Hamish's girlfriend is yet to be consulted, but I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement."'*waits for phone to ring*
61 comments.
So I've finally arrived in my new home town. This is how I know.
1. Drivers are unconscionably rude. Honestly, what's with all the shrieking and the tooting and the swearing and the red faces? And p.s. JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE MIGHT GET A LITTLE FLUSTERED AT THE TOLL DOESN'T MEAN THEY ARE RETARDED AND THAT YOU SHOULD SLAM YOUR FIST ON YOUR HORN AS IT DOESN'T HELP TO CALM THEM DOWN ANY.
2. Everyone I pass on the street - uttery everyone - has less all over body hair than I do. I may point out at this juncture that I am not an overly hirsute lady.
3. The weather is sticky and wet and rude. Like a woman's armpit. After someone has ejaculated into it.
4. A young man with very very tiny shorts appeared at my front gate and introduced himself as my new neighbour Paul. He then went on to say that he threw a party in the back alley two weeks ago with 'an eight piece band and a bubble machine and a pool' and added that he was a performance artist who dances and pretends 'to play violin with my hair'.
*sends postcard home*
78 comments.
