I Like Flags

Watching sport where there is more than one country involved gets me a bit excited… sometimes. Moreso when it’s something like the Olympics, or the World Cup (or Eurovison). I love watching sport. I love the excitement, the suspense, the booze and snacks…

I also love the flags.

(and the national anthems, but that’s another story)

Call me strange, but that kind of thing interests me. I like design. After watching yet another multinational tournament, I started to look up a few of the flags and found a whole new world (trying really hard not to burst into song here) of weird and wonderful flags of all nations.

I used to know all the European flags as a kid, after spending a good 6 months travelling around the continent. There isn’t much from Europe in this crop, but I did manage to come up with some of the more interesting, beautiful, ugly and slightly odd flags from around the world.

I’m possibly going to entertain nobody but myself here… but I’m kind of used to that, being an only child and all. If you want to play with me, you can come along. I don’t mind at all. I know I’m not the only geeky geek in the house…

I’ve narrowed it down to my Top 20.

It would be less, but I had enough trouble narrowing it down to this many.

So, without further ado…. and in no particular order….

BELIZE

Aaaand first off the mark we have Belize. That wreath reminds me of one of those optical illusions where if you stare at the dot in the middle the circle starts moving around. Check it out! It’s moving! Except there is no dot in the middle.
What we have here is ebony and ivory working in perfect harmony… yet a bit apart. Or are they side by side? It says something about the country. They work the land. That’s what they do. Anyone got a problem with that? I don’t think you’d wanna fight those guys.. You might end up with a shovel in the head.

This flag also looks a bit like a corporate logo for a Latin American Kibbutz (?) Huhhh.

BAHRAIN

Aww. It looks like the Burger King is having a bit of a nap. Other than that, I guess it’s quite striking, if a bit on the nautical side.

Sweet dreams, Burger King. When you wake, I’ll have a Whopper with cheese, add bacon. Thanks.

GEORGIA

I’d love to live under this flag. It brings to mind all things medieval and knights of old. How wonderful. I also think it says, “Don’t fuck with us!”…and having met a few Georgian rugby players, I wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort.

GIBRALTAR

Speaking of things medieval, come in Wizard of Id!

The King is a fink…!

How cool is that flag?

TUVALU

One of the world’s smallest independant nations. A group of nine islands, smack bang in the middle of the Pacific. About halfway between Hawaii and Australia. So, if you’re ever trying to swim across, remember you have a rest stop. Isn’t that nice to know? I’m sure they have coconuts.

This flag makes me giggle every time I look at it because it looks like a drunk Aussie has tried to draw the Australian flag. Either that, or it’s the end result of a game of ‘Pin The Stars On The Southern Cross’…

ANTARCTICA

Who knew that Antarctica has its own flag?

Part Rorsarch Ink Blot Test, part rhinoceros head…. you figure it out. The penguins must be pleased.

ANDORRA

I like this one because it has moo cows on it. Any flag with moo cows on it is alright with me.

“Hello, we are from Andorra and we have cows”. Fantastic.

SWAZILAND

Ah.. here we have Africa tapping into their rich visual heritage. It makes a strong statement about the country it’s representing. It’s a fine flag all ’round, but really I just like saying SWAZILAND.

Oh, and Richard E. Grant comes from Swaziland and Richard E. Grant rules. The end.

HONG KONG

This flag must always be flown in conjunction with the Chinese flag and it’s not a Hibiscus flower, it’s a Bauhinia Blakensis. Okay? Good. I’m glad we’ve got that sorted. It is rather pretty though, don’t you think?

Can someone email this to Waldeck’s Garden Centre? I think they need a new logo.

LEBANON

Ah, yes. I always think of lush, green trees when I think of Lebanon. Doesn’t everyone? An interesting, paradoxically peaceful symbol in a country that is effectively a bloody mess. I went there as a child and I don’t remember much except a lot of concrete and men with big guns.

I mean, I know the Cedar is native to Lebanon, but who are they trying to fool, exactly? Wishful thinking, perhaps…

GREENLAND

I think this flag is hot. I dig it for it’s retro 60’s/70’s interior design sensibilities. It would make some fabulous wallpaper, no?

NEPAL

Trust Nepal to think outside the square. The only national flag on the planet that isn’t a horizontal rectangle. They’re dancing to their own tune and it shows. Good on ya Nepal!

ISLE OF MAN

Freaky freak show!! Haha! I LOVE this flag. This is my favourite. It has a sense of humour. How good is that? I also love that it’s rich in Anglo/Celtic mythology. Rock on.

TURKMENISTAN

Just like the old Silk Road from Europe to Asia… or possibly a Persian carpet runner I once owned….

MYANMAR

The country formerly known as Burma. They have corn! Is it corn? Does Burma grow a lot of corn? If they don’t grow a lot of corn, you’d have to wonder why the hell they have a head of corn on their flag … What’s all that about?

LESOTHO

Hehe… The national emblem of Lesotho is a finger puppet. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I like finger puppets. Finger puppets are fun.

Either that, or the ol’ Rorsach Ink Blot Test is back…

KIRIBATI

What’s this? Kiribati sinking beneath the waves of the Pacific due to the effects of Global Warming?

Oh, well. At least the bird looks like he’s having fun….

SAUDI ARABIA

Does anyone here speak Arabic? So accessible, as you would kind of expect, really.

Oh, oh… I just took a crash course in Arabic. It is apparently the Muslim creed, “There is no god but God; Muhammed is the Messenger of God”. Consider yourself told.

TIBET

I like this one. A little psychedelic, complete with oddly coloured sunbeams, swirls and spooky green monsters… and strangely asymmetrical with the unfinished yellow border…

Tibet’s flag is of course, due to its national state of limbo, unrecognised. I dunno, it looks pretty recognisable to me…

UGANDA

A German (?) cock in Africa, from the country that gave us Idi Amin. There has to be some connection there. 500,000 dead Ugandan’s can’t be wrong…

Interesting that the recent film didn’t depict him feeding homosexual’s their own penises…. Or that he was stark raving bonkers due to a nasty case of Syphillis? Or did it? I didn’t see it..

So, there you have it.

So, go on…. tell me your favourite.

Or… have I just completely out-geeked myself? Hah!

Make it go away…

Yes, it’s that time of the month again, folks. The emotional rollercoaster is in motion and I’ve decided it’s much better that I post inane quizzes and generally keep my mouth shut until the motion sickness goes away…

I do have a rather wicked post about vibrators in the works. So we have that to look forward to, which is nice.

In the meantime, I need chocolate and sex and bad television, and not in that order.

See? I told you I should keep my mouth shut.

*************

Check out this tv commerical for Dial Antiperspirant that my friend Jules found on YouTube. I’m not sure what else to say about it, except that it gave us both acid flashbacks – unbeknownst to each other. Weird. Neither of us could stop watching it. We had headspins. I don’t know if it’s the animation, the music or the voice over, or all of them together. Every time I watch it I get spiral eyes (you know, like in cartoons). I kid you not.

Must…. be… dial….. dry………………..

**************

This quiz I nabbed from Stiletto’s blog, is surprisingly accurate. I had the same result when I did it about two years ago (men can do it too):

The Peach Random Gentle Love Master (RGLM) Playful, kind, and well-loved, you are The Peach.For such a warm-hearted, generous person, you’re surprisingly experienced in both love and sex. We credit your spontaneous side; you tend to live in the moment, and you don’t get bogged down by inhibitions like most women your age. If you see something wonderful, you confidently embrace it. Your exact female opposite: The Nymph Deliberate Brutal Sex Dreamer You are a fun flirt and an instant sweetheart, but our guess is you’re becoming more selective about long-term love. It’s getting tougher for you to become permanently attached; and a guy who’s in a different place emotionally might misunderstand your early enthusiasm. You can wreck someone simply by enjoying him. Your ideal mate is adventurous and giving, like you. But not overly intense. DREAD: The False Messiah (DBLM) CONSIDER: The Loverboy (RGLM), The Playboy (RGSM), or The Boy Next Door (RGLD) Link: The Online Dating Persona Test @ OkCupid.

Aw. Look at me, all sensitive-like:

Guys Like That You’re Sensitive

And not in that “cry at a drop of a hat” sort of way You just get most guys – even if you’re not trying to Guys find it is easy to confide in you and tell you their secrets No wonder you tend to get close quickly in relationships!

What Do Guys Like About You?

 

Ok, think I’m going to sneak down to the shop and stock up on comfort food. Where’s my blankie?

 

Show me your results.

 

 

Song Of The Day – Veruca Salt – Seether

Max strikes again…

Max has tagged me. Again.

I don’t mind, because it gives me something to write about and who doesn’t love harping on about themselves, ad nauseum?

The topic du jour (as always) is 8 Random Things, apparently not necessarily about me. However, due to sheer force of habit (I’ve done this tag at least 10 times now), it is all about me.

RANDOM THING NUMBER ONE

I started earning my own money when I was 9 years old, singing and dancing professionally on stage. When I was tall enough, I graduated from dancing girl, to this:

I’m the brown furry one in the stripey scarf.

Yes, I was a wombat. My name was Wal Wombat. Wal was my alter ego from the ages of 10 – 15. We used to do full stage productions at festivals, concert halls and shopping centres as well as some television. He was fun and he paid fairly well, too.

RANDOM THING NUMBER TWO

I have had to install a childproof lock on my fridge because one of my cats [points at the one on the floor named Spiffy] has worked out how to open it, seal and all and eat everything inside. Cunning little bastard.

RANDOM THING NUMBER THREE

Because it seems to be de riguer to include some random titillating (ahem) fact, I will confess that my bra cup size is DD. Sometimes I think it’s no wonder I have a sore back. I love my breasts, but I could easily live with less…

In lieu of posting a photo of myself topless, because…. well, I’m just not going to, here is a picture of some some other woman with boobs. Use your imagination.
RANDOM THING NUMBER FOUR

I’m descended from royalty. Brian Boru, King of Munster, no less.

RANDOM THING NUMBER FIVE

I despise the taste of coffee and coffee flavoured products more than anything else on earth. UGH. I feel quite ill just at the thought of eating something like coffee cake, or inadvertantly taking a sip of iced coffee.

As disgusting as the taste of coffee is to me (do NOT kiss me with coffee breath!) , these things do smell rather good:

RANDOM THING NUMBER SIX

My grandmother was murdered in her own home in 1986. It was re-enacted on Australia’s Most Wanted. The murder was never solved. The case has been reopened recently, due to advances in DNA technology, but there are no new leads. Probably due to the fact that the culprit(s) set fire to her house.

RANDOM THING NUMBER SEVEN

When I had just turned 17, I was kicked out of home and had nowhere to go, so I lived in a cave for about a week. I’m not talking about some kind of pretend cave. It was a real cave on the side of a cliff face. I had a lot of fun that week. I stayed there with a couple of friends and we had a gas cooker, a double mattress on milk crates and whatnot. We even had a party, which was probably not the brightest idea being on the edge of a sheer drop, but nobody was hurt, so who gives a flying fox, eh?

Not the actual cave I lived in, but a very good likeness. My cave had far less grafitti.

RANDOM THING NUMBER EIGHT

I sing Tenor in a large choir. We do mostly big productions like ‘Handel’s Messiah’ and ‘Carmina Burana’. I adore it. Standing in the middle of 130 harmonising voices can be almost akin to having an orgasm. My voice is actually Contralto (the lowest range for a female), but composers don’t/didn’t often write for Contraltos… So, I have to sing with the men. I no complain.

There you have it. Random stuff.

I hereby torture tag the following: Jules, Art, Tommy (evil laugh), modobs, Ranna, Summer, Carrie and Stripper

Go forth and randomise.

Song Of The Day – XTC – Senses Working Overtime

Vinyl Beauties 2

I love vinyl.

I have loads of it. So much that it’s becoming a bit of a problem, because I move house so often… but I can’t seem to part with any of my records.

More about that here:

Vinyl Beauties – Part 1

And here is Part Deux. Not before time, I know. I’ve gathered such a huge collection of dodgy album covers online, that it may take me a year to post them all….

Yay!

I chose these ones at random.  I closed my eyes and clicked.

First off the block we have:

Is her neck broken? Or perhaps her back?

I’ve been doing aerobics on and off for 20 years and I can quite safely say that this particular move has never been part of any routine I’ve followed. In fact, I used to throw my head around like that when I was dancing in my misspent youth, and all the favours it did me, was ongoing neck and back problems. I wonder how she’s doing these days..?

Is my interpretation of digital timing wrong, or is that a 20 second workout? Ah, 20 minutes. Oh, well… if I’d end up with a body like hers, I might just try it…

It was seen on TV, after all…

Astronauts in gaily coloured suits and multicoloured women from outer space (those curly antennae never work well, in my experence). Apparently they’re thrilling the ladies with gifts. What those gifts are, are anyone’s guess. I think they’re cocktails…? In brandy balloons. Hey, brandy is brown, man! I hate being misrepresented, don’t you?

I’m always up for an escapade, though. Especially in space.

I bags being the pink lady…

Nice to be with you too, Jim. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to point?

Smug bastard.

Their name is Omega, in case you didn’t get it from the prominently placed symbol. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, because it wasn’t the first thing I noticed…

I think they guy with the blond frizz and I have the same hairdresser….

Is the guy on the right wearing a frock? It’s all very odd. They must be Scandinavian.

Just because I’ve been so active in my garden this week, I had to choose this one (the only one I actually chose). I always play music whist I’m pottering amongst the living things, but I hadn’t considered playing them Dr George’s music when I’m not around. Maybe that’s why my snow peas died overnight?

Does the fact he is a doctor, have any bearing on his horticultural skills? Maybe he’s a Doctor of Wilting Indoor Plants…

Arright. That’s it for another episode, my lovelies.

Feel free to make your own interpretations…

Song Of The Day – Scott Matthews – Elusive

Tiptoe Thru The Tulips (with me)

Alright, alright. I admit it. There’s not a lot of tiptoeing going on here, nor much in the way of tulips, for that matter….

… but I did spend a lovely couple of hours in the garden yesterday, planting some bulbs which had been sitting in the fridge for longer than the required 6 weeks. I’ve also just found out that they aren’t supposed to be stored in the crisper along with fruit and vegetables, as the fruit and veg gives of ethelyne gas which wrecks the bulbs.

Oops.

In case you can’t tell. I’m a novice gardener. The last time I planted a bulb was as part of a school project when I was 7 years old. Actually, that was the only time I’ve ever planted a flower…

Fingers crossed for these little beauties:

I mixed the pink and red tulips together and planted the rest in separate pots. Aren’t they the prettiest things?

Of course, now I know that you’re not supposed to store them with vegetables, you may see another photoblog with the bulbs looking exactly the same at the end of winter. [worried look] Fingers crossed…

See, I went to all this trouble…..

I got very, very dirty.

Nothing beats sinking your hands into soil..

Oh, well. If worse comes to worst, I still have my other lovelies. Yay for potted vegies! I’m in love with my tomatoes, chillies, onions, baby carrots, spring onions…..

[Spot the dead alien in my pool]

Speaking of tomoatoes…..

Yes, I know it’s just a tomato plant, but it’s MY tomato plant and it’s the first one I’ve ever grown. Well, make that the first six. They’re cherry tomatoes and there are six plants in that pot… and more tomatoes than I can count from here. So sweet and delicious….

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make myself a salad for dinner….

Song Of The Day – Patti Smith – Dancing Barefoot

Ready, Set, EUROVISION!

Pop the champagne and fire up the popcorn maker…. it’s Eurovision!

A high-camp feast of musical mayhem and predictable political prejudices and persuasions. A boon for the bookmakers. An excuse for the European pop music community to drink copious amounts of alcohol and rub uglies. An opportunity for European dancers to grin maniacally and display their interpretive dancing skills. A chance for European set designers to let their penchant for garish colours and flashing lights run free. A night for female performers to wear costumes so brief and wispy so as to get a chill in their kidneys.

Not familiar with the Eurovision Song Contest? Abba had their big break when they won it back in the 70’s with their ostentasiously costumed rendition of ‘Waterloo’.

It is the highlight of my television viewing year. Better even, than the AFL Grand Final. 3 1/2 hours of laugh-til-your-cheeks-hurt, cringe-worthy bliss. This show is FUNNY. F.U.N.N.Y. Thanks, in large part to the wonderful commentary of British tv/radio icon Terry Wogan. Sardonic, dry, and very, very witty with his lovely lilting Irish accent. He ought to be good. He’s been commentating Eurovision for nearly 40 years…

Every year, Eurovision unintentionally takes on a different theme. Most years at least 90% of the songs feature something in common. Last year just about every person on stage was wearing white. This year, was the year of gothic overtones and pyrotechnics, thanks to the stylings of last year’s winners, Lordi from Finland.

This is the video of Lordi’s winning performace from last year. So much fun. Watch. You won’t regret it. Hard Rock Hallelujah! [how they don't all go up in flames towards the end, is still quite beyond me...]

Eurovision is watched by over 600 million people worldwide and has a cult following in Australia. We don’t take part in it, for obvious reasons, so we have no vested interest, but the people of Europe take it all terribly seriously, which is funny in itself. We just sit and laugh our boxes off at the supreme kitschness of it all and Sir Wogan’s witticisms.

There are heats and semi-finals in every country that takes part; it goes on and on for months, but the Grand Prix de Europe (er, Grand Final), is open to only 24 countries. The format of the show runs in two parts. First, all 24 countries perform their respective and universally puke-worthy songs. Second half of the programme is the vote. We’ll get to that part.

First, I’ll share some stills of a few choice acts chosen to represent their respective countries:

BULGARIA

It’s the Bulgarian Sheila E and the Mulletman. Ok, his name isn’t really Mulletman, but he does have rather spectacular hair. It’s all about percussion…

UNITED KINGDOM

Honestly. CAN they be serious? Just look at them. This lot make Bucks Fizz look like The Beatles. The UK are given a free pass to the Eurovision final every year, along with Germany, France and Spain. Their entries are almost universally TERRIBLE. The thing that concerns me most, is that the songs selected to represent each country are chosen by the general public… I thought Morrissey was supposed to get a gander this year? What happened?!

GERMANY

Last year, Germany did a Country & Western song, complete with cowboy outfits. This year the flavour was Big Band Swing. In German. How very…. Brecht. Not.

BELARUS

A chintzy pseudo rock song of the highest order, sung by a young man bearing an uncanny resemblance to Princess Diana. Complete with chorus:

Work your magic

You set my beating heart in motion

Will you cast your loving potion

Over me

I rest my case.

GEORGIA

Georgia’s first ever Eurovision Grand Final appearance. It wasn’t half bad, either, if not a bit strange to look at. A couple of energetic, spinning Cossacks waving swords about and a pretty woman in a red dress, singing a kind of electro-goth anthem. I guess you had to be there….

MOLDOVA

This is probably best illustrated by Terry Wogan’s introduction:

“There’s a lot of impetuous head-shaking and scarf-waving, and it’s the outfit of the evening, lads, from Natalia. Altogether now, when she’s finished playing the fiddle, I want you to shout….”PULL UP YOUR TROUSERS!!”"

Then, when the song was over:

“We can only hope her mother wasn’t watching that.. [chuckles]. That was quite frightening…”

FORMER YUGOSLAV REPUBLIC OF MACEDONIA

Aren’t you glad you don’t live there? It would take you ten years just to say where you lived. I include this young lady, because she had the longest legs and shortest skirt of the evening, by a long shot. There was even a fairly decent shot of her arse at one point, which thrilled my husband no end. Gotta love those Eurobabes.

HUNGARY

Hungary sings the blues. Maybe they are hung(a)ry? Ok, that was possibly the lamest joke ever uttered, even in the name of Eurovision., but that’s what it does to you. I swear.

Did I mention how wonderful this all looked on the 42″ inch Plasma? Fan-bloody-tastic.

The second half of the show is made up of the voting process, where they cross to 42 separate countries by satellite link to have a short chat and get the results of the telephone votes from the public, via some local tv celebrity. You’d think it would be quite torturous, but it’s actually very amusing. Partly because so many of the votes are so utterly predictable with neighbouring countries and political allies voting for each other, often with complete disregard to the quality of the act they’re voting for. Croatia gives top votes to Bosnia & Herzogovina and vice versa, Iceland votes for Finland, Moldova votes for Romania, Belarus for Russia, Cyprus for Greece… you get the picture. There was an even more apparent voting block going on this year between the Eastern European countries, not helped that there were two new additions to the fray.

Despite the bias and the accompanying tutting and pffting, it all seems to work out in the end.

What really tickles me is that the poor old UK, France and Germany really don’t have any friends to give them the big points, so they just pick up the odd stray vote along the way. Everybody say “awwwwwww”, heh.

SERBIA

This year, Serbia came out on top, by a fairly decent margin with a heart wrenching power ballad to rival all power ballads, sung by a bunch of women in drag, looking like refugees from the island of Lesbos who all seem to have had a nasty accident with the same curling iron:

UKRAINE

… but this is who should have won! If you only watch one of these videos, make it Verka! Hilarious! I’m in love. I want to have his babies. It’s taken me so long to put this blog up because I’ve spent most of the week so far watching Verka videos on YouTube. Best Eurovision song, EVER. It even gives Lordi a run for their money…. WATCH IT. I dare you! [titter]

Only in Europe, could millions of people vote a bunch of women in drag, and a cross dressing man into first and second place in such a political minefield of a song contest. I love it.

So, that pretty much wraps up Eurovision for another year. There were more videos I wanted to include, and if you want to see more, there are loads of great, chuckle-worthy performances on YouTube.

Serbia – 268

Ireland – 5

Oh, stuff it. Here’s one more. This is Switzerland’s entry which didn’t make it past the Semi Final, even though it was tipped as a hot favourite. It cracks me up. The artist is DJ Bobo (which is funny in itself), and the song is…. well, quite surreal. ‘Vampires Are Alive”. Just see it for yourself. Personally I’m quite fond of the shop mannequins in the background.

If you still can’t get enough, check out this blog here. It’s a cracker and it was written by an American who has never felt the sheer elation that a Eurovision final can bring, yet still manages to intrinsically appreciate the supreme cheesiness of it all. 

Song Of The Day – Verka Serduchka – Dancing Lasha Tumbai

Flash Cube Flashback!

I found this Kodak commercial from the 60’s. It thrills me.

It’s new! It’s now! It’s Flash Cube!

Help me…. I can’t stop go-go dancing…

Does anyone else remember flash cubes, or am I really starting to show my age? I was a child of the ’70’s and my first camera predated me, but I have very clear memories of those little cubes. You only got 4 flashes per cube…

Whatever you do, don’t blink!

This was my first camera:

No frills, circa 1968-’73 with no built-in flash. It had a manual wind-on mechanism and I distinctly remember the resounding “click” when you pressed the shutter and the torturous process of winding back the film at the end of a roll. I used to think I was pretty special because my camera had two different settings for if it was sunny or overcast, as you can see in the picture above, just above the lens. It took crappy pictures, but I didn’t care. I took it everywhere with me. Nice to see nothing has changed in that regard…

Ohh, look! I found a picture of me with my trusty Instamatic 33:

I still have the photos I took that day, which would illustrate beautifully the quality (or lack thereof) of the prints, but I couldn’t be arsed going through 30 boxes to find them. I think I still have the camera somewhere, too….

I am such a hoarder.

Song Of The Day – Cream – Tales Of Brave Ulysses

That dog is trying to tell you something…

When I was 18, I lived in a 3 bedroom house in Brookman Street, Northbridge. Brookman Street was the most notorious residential street in the city, and Northbridge is where it all happens. Clubs, drugs, Asian gangs… and some rather nice restaurants. A colourful place.

I had some new housemates, after my previous housemates moved out under rather nasty circumstances.

I loved my new housemates, Troy and Michael.

Troy was an old school friend of mine, who had lived over the road from me for a couple of years during highschool. We got up to all kinds of hijinks together, but that was a few years gone by this time. Troy was into the Northbridge clubbing ’scene’. Still adorable in that ‘Troy’ way, but quite vain and into being seen and being ’scene’.

Michael was a sweetheart. He was quite effeminate, cute as hell, and never had a bad word to say about anyone, except when he did.

Troy and Michael were very different to me in many ways. I was a bit of a flower child in those days, but not at all unwise to the ways of the world. They were into clubbing, dance music and all that went along with that.

I’d left all my friends behind in Fremantle to move up to Perth (about a 40 minute drive or so). Perth was a very different scene to Freo, which had a much more laid back vibe. I hung out with my new housemates and their friends a lot because none of my friends had the means to get to me anymore without a long drive or an even longer public transport route. Troy and Michael’s friend’s loved me. I was like nobody they’d ever met. I surprised them and made them laugh, in a good way. Hmmm. I seem to have that effect on people… Maybe there’s another story (or 6) in that…

We had some good times.

One night, Troy, Michael and I were sitting around the kitchen table, examining a couple of very large marijuana plants that had been pulled up that day and given to us by a friend of Troy’s. Lovely big plants. Complete with roots and dirt, wrapped up in newspaper.

We had a little smoke and agreed that all was well in the world.

Quite suddenly, the dog started barking it’s head off.

We heard car doors, but didn’t think much of it. It was a one-way, inner city street, renowned for it’s bohemian inhabitants. At least two drug dealers lived in the street, so there was a lot of coming and going. No big deal.

We had another bong each, then started stripping the leaves and heads from the plants.

There was a knock at the door.

The dog was still barking, but I chose to ignore it, because it was a stupid dog. I say that with authority, because I’d lived with this particular dog for a couple of years by this stage and I was well qualified to say that Lettie the dog, was really quite dumb.

Troy thought he ought to investigate. The kitchen was at the rear of our little semi-detached house…

On the way to the front door, he placed the bong on top of the fridge next to the phone.

Michael and I sat in silence, straining our ears to hear what was going on. Troy was talking to someone.

I looked at Michael. He looked back at me, quizically. We waited and listened some more.

It wasn’t at all clear what was going on, but we figured it was just a neighbour or a friend. However, Troy was taking a while, and just in case, we placed a couple of sheets of newspaper over the rather large plants (with dirt, roots and leaves sticking out everywhere) on the table.

Troy reappeared. Behind him was a man. A man we’d never met nor seen before.

He introduced himself.

“Hi. I’m Senior Constable Mike Wilson. I’ve just caught a kid in a stolen car outside your house. Is it okay if I use your phone?”

Troy was standing with a fixed grin on his face. Michael and I tried in vain to lean over the evidence. The evidence that he would have to be legally blind to miss. It was a large table.

We didn’t do a good job of covering up. Not at all.

We were shitting ourselves, collectively. All the time, Troy was grounded to the spot with a look on his face of sheer, grinning horror.

The cop wanted to use the phone. The phone was mounted on the wall right next to the fridge.

On top of the fridge, right on the edge closest to him was that dirty old bong.

Michael stared at the sink, anywhere but where the blinding evidence was…

Senior Constable Mike Wilson called in for backup, or whatever the hell he needed our phone for. I don’t think any of us were listening. His partner was outside with the car theif in cuffs on the ground.

Thinking back, I’m not sure why they needed to use our phone… Don’t even “plain car” cops have a CB radio or something of the like?

The bong was at head height, about 4 inches from his face. He was standing directly in front of the table overflowing with fresh cannabis debris. The newspaper covering it was levitating.

It was a long few minutes. One of the longest few minutes of our lives, to that point.

Eventually Senior Constable Mike Wilson hung up the phone.

He thanked us, kindly.

And left.

He left.

HE LEFT.

We stared at each other, wide eyed. Followed by a collective chorus of “FUUUUUCKKK!!!!”

Followed by much laughter. Disbelieving laughter.

We’d got away with it.

Of all people to walk into our house at that moment, it was a cop wanting to use the phone.

I guess he had bigger fish to fry, so to speak.

I think I underestimated that dog…

Song Of The Day – Iggy Pop – Bored

 

Blog Paste (spread it around)

I interrupt this broadcast for a community service annoucement:

I’ve been surfing around the blog-o-sphere in an expansive fashion of late, and have come across a lot of links to various blog directories. Some of them are networking sites where you add people as contacts or join their communities, i.e My BlogLog, SpicyPage, or BlogCatalogue. Others are sites where you register your blog in certain categories, and others again have a voting/ranking system (which doesn’t particularly interest me…).

I also recieved a message on SpicyPage yesterday from blog owner who is conducting a Technorati Favourites Exchange Experiment which may be of interest to some of you.

Also, the lovely Meg is a jolly good resource for linking together and promoting Australian bloggers (not enough of us around, mate… fair dinkum ).

After joining a bunch of sites over the last few days, my blog views have jumped considerably (coinciding nicely with my blog about Colonoscopys, hah!) and I can see on my Stats page that readers are coming from almost all these new directories I’ve joined. This of course, is a good thing, even though I’ve never been much one for networking or self promotion. I may have signed up for these directories, but other than that I don’t go out of my way to get hits on my blog. I would rather have readers that I have a connection with, than 1000 people randomly clicking on my page in a day, and not taking in a word. I suppose you have to find regular readers some way, though. I mean, that’s the reason for posting a public blog, isn’t it? So people will read what you’ve written…

So, if you’re interested in gaining more exposure for your own posts, whilst having access to more blogs on more topics than you could poke a stick at, I recommend that you check out some of the buttons at the bottom of my right hand sidebar.

Or…

If none of this means anything to you and you’d rather stick a fork in your eye, than bother with all that stuff about stats, traffic and readership, here is a picture of two women doing something very strange:

What exactly that is, I do not know….

Song Of The Day – Wall Of Voodoo – Far Side Of Crazy

Yacht Rock #4

Greetings, groovers…

Yes, it’s that time again.

Time to pull on your deck shoes for another episode of Yacht Rock.

In this week’s episode, ‘Rosanna’, the following questions are posed, or answered (or not):

1. Will Michael McDonald save himself from becoming an irrelevant joke? Or will someone do it for him, in the name of “chakra alignment”?
2. Did I just see Christopher Cross’ head explode?
3. Why did Steve Perry run away?

I just can’t get enough of those smooth montages…

Yacht Rock #1 – “What a Fool Believes”
Yacht Rock #2 – “Keep The Fire”
Yacht Rock #3 – “I’m Alright”

Yacht Rock online

Coming in episode 5: Michael and Kenny reunited? Could it be? What part might Michael Jackson and Vincent Price play in this miracle….?

Song Of The Day – Toto – Hold The Line

Diary Of An Anal Probee

Disclaimer: This blog is not for the overly squeamish.  Enter at your own risk. 

Oh, it’s not that bad….. really.  I’ve tried to be delicate.

There are two good things about having a Colonoscopy.

1. A total detox of your digestive system
2. Pethedine
3. Pethedine

Oops.  Heh.

Ever since my late teens, I’ve had to have a Colonoscopy every 2-5 years.  It’s all to do with the fact my father had bowel cancer twice – first time in his 20’s.  

I’m a bit of an old-hand at the old Colonoscopy procedure, or at least I ought to be.  The fact is, it’s a horrible thing to go through, and it never, ever gets easier.  The actual procedure itself is fine – it’s the preparation that’s the problem.  It takes days and involves prolonged starvation and extreme diarrhoea.  It’s just no fun for anyone.  

If you’re not familiar with the procedure, in basic terms, it involves a doctor poking a 4ft tube with a camera attached to it, up your arse and all the way into your large intestine to look for polyps and cancerous growths. 

You even get to watch your innards on colour tv, if the pethedine doesn’t knock you out (which it never does, me).

So, follow along, if you’re up to it.  It’s quite entertaining.  You could even look at it as preparation – for it is most likely that you too will have to go through this charming procedure one of these days.  Although, if you don’t have a family history like mine, it probably won’t be until you’re over 50… (lucky bastards)

SUNDAY

4.30pm – Attend screening of Spiderman 3 at local cinema and spend duration of film gorging self with medium sized box of popcorn.

8.00pm – Read instruction sheet for colonoscopy preparation and realise that popcorn is included on the list of ’NO’  foods for 3 days before procedure.  It is now 3 days before procedure.  Oops.  

List of contraband foods: bran or muesli, vegetables, fruit, seeds, wholemeal bread, red meat.

List of allowed foods: strained fruit juice, rice bubbles, cornflakes, eggs, rice, pasta, chicken, fish, clear soups, white bread, crackers, low-fat dairy products.

MONDAY

Work.

Follow limited diet as instructed. 

6.00pm – Visit local shops to purchase items, i.e. day-before-procedure preparatory solution and assorted allowed items for Tuesday’s liquid fast.  Get a bit carried away.

List of purchases:

1 litre of Guava Nectar

2 litres of pulp free Orange Juice

2 litres of Apple & Mango Juice

1.25 litres of sparkling mineral water

2 litres of Mountain Dew

500ml of Nippy’s Lemon Juice

Packet of mango flavoured jelly crystals

Large bag of Barley Sugar sweets

1 sachet of Colonlytely (to make one litre of solution)

8.00pm – Consume final meal before procedure on Wednesday.  Feel cheated that bowl of pasta isn’t nearly big enough to sustain hungry girl for 40+ hours.  Curse husband silently.  It’s my last supper, dammit!

TUESDAY

Preparatory instructions:  Take a clear fluids diet only all day.  This allows you to take black coffee and tea, clear soups, strained fruit juices, clear jelly (not red), soft drinks (eg lemonade) and cordial.   Barley sugar sweets may be taken. 

Sleep badly, woken often by bad dreams and demanding felines.

8.23am – Jolted out of fitful doze by telephone.  Hospital calls to demand to know the whereabouts of Patient Admission Form and Waiver.  Agree to fax relevant papers from work.  Informed that given time for procedure is 8.15am tomorrow.  Heart sinks. Too early. Know from experience there will be at least a 2-3 hour wait.

Look forward to another shitty night’s sleep. 

8.50am – Mix up sachet of Colonlytely prep solution with 1 litre of water.  Recoil at familiar, synthetic lemon stench.  Refrigerate.

9.00am – Leave for work without breakfast as instructed [sob].  Stop on the way for further provisions.  Realise there is no such thing as a clear soup.

List of further purchases:

Packet of passionfruit flavoured jelly crystals

Packet of lemon flavoured jelly crystals

1 box of Pico Prep

9.30am – Arrive at work and regale workmates with tales of hunger and paltry list of permissable substances.  Take great pleasure in explicitly explaining upcoming procedure to young co-worker and in return, receive satisfying look of abject horror.  

Periodically descend staircase and cross shop floor to attempt to fax relevant papers to hospital.

10.30am – Halfway through litre bottle of guava nectar, come to abrupt realisation that fruit juice can never take the place of solid food.   Shit.  Another 30 hours to go.

11.30am – Feel lightheaded, tired and a bit cranky.  Stomach and headache.  Wish that the taste of coffee didn’t induce gag reflex.  Hum.  What else can I have?  Barley sugars.  Brilliant.  Even more brilliant had they not been left at home.

12noon -  Wonder if I can take a camera into surgery during the procedure.  Cheered by thought of grossing out blog readers with colour photos of large intestine.

1.00pm - Go home.  Drink copious amounts of fruit juice and water.

2.00pm – Feel very cranky due to lack of sustenance and jealous of cats stuffing their faces with biscuits.  Feel a bit better after stomping and huffing around the house for a few minutes.  Drink more.

2.30pm – Call hospital and manually feed (did somebody say feed??) surgery receptionist all personal information over phone due to stupid work fax machine not working.  Drink more.

3.00pm – Review contents of refrigerator.  Come to realisation that I’ve bought at least 10 times more fruit juice and jelly than could possibly be consumed in a week, let alone a day and a half.    Oh, well.   Drink more.

3.30pm – Call father-in-law to organise post-procedure pick up of doped out, anally probed daughter-in-law.

4.30pm – Feel distinctly over-hydrated.  Eat mango jelly which turns to liquid in mouth.  Continue to resemble a walking water-balloon.  

It is now 20 hours since last ingestion of solid food.  Half way there.  It is apparent I am not well suited to fasting.

Evening Preparation:  At about 5.00pm, drink the Colonlytely solution over a 1 hour period.  At 7.00pm dilute the contents of one of the Picoprep sachets in a warm glass of water and leave to cool for 20 mins before drinking.  Follow then with a further 2 full glasses of water and then continue drinking water at a rate of 1 glass per hour until you go to bed.  During the course of the evening you will have watery diarrhoea. 

HURRAH!

5.00pm – Begin drinking Colonlytely solution.  Feel an overwhelming sense of dread.  Curse father for having had bowel cancer at such a young age.  Curse other things, including door handle, office chair and cat.  Wait for inevitable explosion.

6.30pm – Stomach cramps and the “cleansing” has begun.  “Explosive” is one word to describe it.  As is “urgent”.

6.34pm – You do not want to know what just happened.

6.45pm – Ohhhhh….  [sob]  At least now I feel so nauseous that I’m not hungry…..

7.10pm - Mix Picoprep powder with water and note immediate resemblence to watered-down milk.  Also reminiscent of a medicine I once regurgitated.   I have a headache.

9.00pm –   I have the shakes, am sick with hunger and a weird and unpleasant combination of waterlogged and grossly dehydrated.  Kill me now.  One almost hopes that they find something, so it will all be worth it.

12midnight – Crawl to bed filled with hope there are no nasty accidents in the night.

WEDNESDAY (D-DAY)

Morning of Procedure Preparation:  at least 2 hours before your appointment time, dilute the contents of the second Picoprep sachet in a glass of water and drink it.  Follow this immediately with a further 2 full glasses of water.  Note: this may mean you have to set an early alarm clock if you have an early appointment time at the hospital.

6.00am – Rise to resume 3 minute intervalled dashes in general direction of the lavatory.  Drink second sachet of Pricoprep in water, followed by 2 more glasses of water.  Feel waterlogged all over again.  Am beyond hunger by now.  Feeling akin to nasty stomach flu.

8.15am – Report to hospital reception and stake out all patient toilets in vicinity.  Sit in waiting room nursing headache and listen to deaf woman “talk” at the top of her voice, whilst using sign language. 

9.00am – Directed by nurse to remove all clothing, including underwear.  Don attractive, gaping robe, dressing gown and paper booties.  Sit.  Wait.  Read.  Try not to think about food.

As far as I could get with the camera….

9.30am – Shown to hospital bed.  Ob’s taken.  All is well.  Have slightly tripped out feeling due to combination of lack of food, bright lights and soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar echoing throughout the ward.

10.00am – Place bets with anaesthatist on whether he is able to knock me out for the procedure. 

10.15am – Anaethsatist wins bet. 

10.45am – Wake after procedure, hooked up to machines and wearing oxygen mask.  Feel slightly disappointed at not seeing innards on television.  Thinks to self to ask to stay awake for next procedure.

11.00am – Feel wide awake (although slightly drunk from Pethedine) and insist I am ready to eat and go home.   Doctor C. gives all clear.  Feast on chicken sandwiches, yoghurt and fruit juice (not more fruit juice!).

11.30am – Father-in-law arrives to pick up doped out, anally probed daughter-in-law.

…. and now I’m home.  Still a bit woozy from the Pethedine, but you’ll hear no complaints from me about that. 

The good news is, that I don’t have to have another Colonoscopy for a whole five years.   I think I’ll go back to Doctor C. again.  He wasn’t pervy like the last one.

Now, where’s my bloody lunch!  I’ve got 40 hours worth of eating to make up….

Song Of The Day – Jesus Christ Superstar (OST) – Superstar

Spidey… and me

I went to the cinema today.

Spidey!  Yay!

I’ve never been a comic book freak, but I’ve always loved me some Spidey.  I think it had a lot to with the theme song being so deeply imprinted, watching Saturday morning television as a kid.

I won’t harp on about it at length, as the hype is bordering on overkill as it is.  Also it’s quite boring to read about a film you haven’t seen.

Here is a list of a few things that occurred to me during the movie (no spoilers to speak of):  

Yeah, I’m critical.  I’m an ex-film critic.  So shoot me.

• Kirsten Dunst has a most unfortunate voice.  She does sing in the film (she’s actually meant to not be all that good), but I’m talking about her speaking voice.  It annoys the bejesus out of me. She sounds like she’s being strangled.  Every time she opens her mouth, I feel an uncontrollable urge to clear my throat.  Use your diaphragm, woman!
• The opening credits are really naff and almost as long as the film.  That’s very, very long.
• There is a lot of crying in this movie.  I mean, it’s really noticeable.  I didn’t feel terribly affected by the drama, so by the end of the film I was starting to giggle every time someone started snuffling. 
• It drove me nuts when every time Peter Parker pulled his sexy cozzie out of the trunk, he would hold it out in front on himself and gaze at it in earnest for what seemed like aeons.  This must have happened about six times, at least.  People to save, Peter!  Get a move on, lad!  It was actually quite comical (ahem)…
• People who criticise the amount of CGI in Spiderman 3, need to stop and remember that it is a comic book!  Next stop: animation!  It was almost blurring the line between cartoon and reality, but it really worked – unlike in Superman Returns.
• It was nice to see a cameo from Stan Lee.
• One of the things I like most about the Spiderman franchise is its sense of humour.  There are some cack laugh-out-loud moments in this movie.  Shame that the rest of the (very young) audience missed it.
• The action scenes are hot.   See it on the big screen
• Is it just me, or does anyone else find Spiderman in his cozzie really bloody sexy?  Makes me all a bit fluttery in naughty places , I tell ya….

Come and get me, Spidey baby….(just leave your costume on)

All in all, a jolly enjoyable romp, as you would expect.    I give Spidey 3, ***1/2 stars.

Oh!  I nearly forgot to tell you.  Just as well it’s not a film you where need to concentrate terribly hard to follow along, because there was a group of unsupervised children in the session and they were taking turns running up and down the stairs in the theatre.[thud, thud, thud-thud, thud, thud-thud-thud, thud]  You get the picture.  They also didn’t shut up for the entirety of the film – vocally or with their constant rustling.  Fortnuately I was in the fourth row and they were at the back, so I managed to mostly tune them out…..

….Unlike the guy 4 rows behind me who had not one, but two loud conversations on his mobile phone in the middle of the movie.  How rude!  The second time he did it was the last time, because I turned around and yelled at him:

“GET OFF THE PHONE!!!”

He got off the phone.  :)

In other news:

I coloured my hair today.  Woohoo!

Damn.  It didn’t really come out all that well in the photo.  It’s quite….. red.

Alright.  That’s all.  Carry on.

Song Of The Day – Kasabian – Reason Is Treason

I don’t shop for clothes…

It was my birthday in February.

I know, you most likely missed it.

Don’t worry, there’s always next year….

Every year on my birthday, I am given a sizeable shopping voucher for my favourite shop in Perth, 78 Records.

78’s is brilliant. My cup of tea, entirely. It’s a huge place, for Perth. Two stories full of CD’s, DVD’s, books and all kinds of other paraphenalia, all waay left of centre.

When I was neck-high in the music industry, this was the coolest place to take bands for an instore appearance. I had a fine old time babysitting Weezer for a couple of days, and that equated to 78’s most successful instore appearance to date. 700+ people spilling out the door. It was a crazy day. They played an acoustic set. If I could be bothered uploading photos, I would….

Yay!

(it’s very nice to get gushing, congratulatory notes from head office…)

I become very, very excited at the prospect of going to 78’s and having money to spend…

 

Doesn’t look like much, I know. This is only a corner. I was a bit iffy about getting told off for taking pictures…

 

After shopping, it was time for some lunch…. (who thinks they’ll mind me giving them a plug? heh)

 

…and a beer… or several. Little Creatures make some of the best beers on the planet. They’re based here and I know people in other parts of the world, who are so very knowledgable about beer, and they will agree….

 

And, it’s on to the purchases. [blissful sigh]

 

I couldn’t believe my luck finding this. Love are one of my favourite bands of all time. They were around in the 60’s and are completely and totally underrated. Oh, Arthur Lee, for you are my hero….

 

He died late last year. It was a sad day.

 

Ol’ Hunter is a jolly good writer and I love me some boozy adventures….

 

Hehe. I also have a thing for B Z-grade schlock horror…..

 

Speaking of which….. A Russ Meyer favourite. Nude ladies, crazy psychedelia and murder. What more can you ask for?

 

(Not to be confused with Jacqueline Sussan’s ‘Valley of the Dolls’, parody aside…)

 

Brilliant film. It’s what I imagine life to be like on a submarine in wartime, and is highly regarded in terms of realism. Tommy, care to comment?

 

I haven’t seen this for nearly 20 years. For someone like me, who feels very at home blissing out in a mid-late ’60’s kind of way, it’s essential. Born at the wrong time…

 

I’ve never heard of this film. It’s Australian. It just tickled my fancy so much that I bought it simply by viewing the cover art. I’m thinking, poor man’s ‘Tommy’, minus the music… or maybe with some. It has impressive musical credentials, if you’re Australian. I haven’t watched it yet. It’s probably unwatchable, but I’m a curious cat…..

 

Silverchair are mostly regarded overseas as a teenage grunge band from Oz, made good. That was 15 years ago. They grew up. They started working with Van Dyke Parks (think, good Beach Boys) on their last album, Diorama. Stuff happened. It was good. Very good. Daniel Johns is a fucking genius. He grew up in a way nobody would have expected. I could go on about where that came from, but I’d bore you. What I will say is, there was a lot of physical pain associated with that, and all that goes with it. This is their new album.

 

I was sitting on a balcony. The day looked like this down below :

 

 

… and there was good food to be eaten. So very good…

 

 

 

Then there was more beer…. (and wine)

 

 

 

 

After that, things looked a little wobbly….

 

 

 

 

… but I managed to take a dodgy photo of myself in the lav…

 

 

 

[Photo of self removed due to overwhelming feelings of utter self disgust]

 

 

Ok, that’s it. The ending has changed now since I removed that photo and I have an horrendous hangover.

 

Ow.

 

 

Song Of The Day – Magic Dirt – Pace it

 

PS I’m tired of battling with the spacing on posts. If anyone wants to give me a tutorial, I’m up for it, but other than that…. deal with it. As I know you willl…

 

 

Yacht Rock #3

Hey, all you lovers of smooth grooves…

It’s time for Yacht Rock – Episode Three, “I’m Alright”

It’s what you’ve been waiting for.

I know you have. Don’t be shy.

In this episode, we witness Kenny Loggins’ transition from purveyor of gentle grooves, to hard rockin’ soundtrack king.

These questions and more, may or may not be answered:

Will Michael McDonald survive the loss of his two closest comrades in the yacht rock family?

Is Steve Perry really from the dark side?

What the hell is Donald Fagan talking about?

Yacht Rock #1 – “What a Fool Believes”
Yacht Rock #2 – “Keep The Fire”

Coming in Episode Four (it’s a corker!):
Will Toto be the ones to bring Michael McDonald Into the smooth rock of the ’80’s? And whatever happened to Tab anyway?

Song Of The Day – Steely Dan – Kid Charlemagne

Let’s Disco…. Baby

So, Jules and I were having a conversation on one of my blogs, about cheesy videos on YouTube.

She told me, she’d just been watching a video on ‘How to do ‘The Hustle”.  

Y’know…. the disco dance craze from the ’70’s.

I was then reminded of one of my favourite videos in the vast YouTube cannon. 

Oh, it just thrills me…

I’m not quite sure what that says about me, except that I have an extreme fetish for CHEEEZE.

I’m a bit of a disco queen, myself.  Ever since I picked up a second hand vinyl copy of ‘Let’s Disco!’ and the accompanying instructional book around 15 years ago. 

“Step round, back, and together with the right…”  

I should offer lessons.  Any takers?

Although, I may not be as good as the man with the smooth moves in this video… 

I also don’t recall ever learning that step he does in the last 30 seconds.  I wonder if it has a name?  You have to admit, it’s fairly impressive…. [snicker]

Now, make sure you have your dancing shoes ready.  Those Finnish peeps really know how to get their groove on….

**WARNING:  Do not eat or consume fizzy beverages for the duration of this video.

I’m in love with all the ladies’ shoes…

I’m also intrigued as to how the woman goes through all the instructional part at the beginning, only to jig about doing her own thing when the party really gets going.  What’s all that about?

Those crazy Scandinavians…

 

Coming soon:  EUROVISION!!!  YAY!!!!

 

Song Of The Day – Van McCoy – The Hustle