I don't like 'em. I remember the first time I rode in a rich man's Audi and the seat warmers came on. My first thought was "Holy crap! I've wet myself!"
It's rather disconcerting.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Monday, June 27, 2005
Absolutely, positively, the best Batman film EVER. Some movies just get silly and let you down half-way, but BB had really good pacing and flow. It was pretty much riveting from start to finish. Some of the very intelligent (or do I mean barely intelligible?) thoughts running through my head during the movie were:
1. I love Christian Bale. Ooh, Christian Bale doing push-ups. Mmm, Christian Bale getting out of bed. Must...wipe...drool...off...chin...
2. Liam Neeson is one fine looking man. Nice to know some things just get better with age.*
3. I want to go to ninja school!
4. Hehe, he's a psychologist and his name is Dr. Crane! I don't like Dr. Crane, he has girly fish-lips.
5. That is all.
I also find that I'm quite susceptible to advertising. That beer ad for Beck's came on and I thought "Wow, German sounds so cool! I wish I was German!" Good chocolate is so cheap in Germany. You can pick anything and it'll be melt-in-your-mouth goodness. Whereas here the equivalent product would taste like Milo-flavoured wax. And German immigration were so nice and just let me straight through when I visited. "Haff a nice day!" said the nice Teutonic man to me, barely glancing at my passport. UK immigration on the other hand were going "How long are you staying for? What are you doing for a living? Where are you studying? When do you finish your degree? Where are you staying in London? Let me see your ticket so I can see when you're flying back!" and I was going "Dude! I come from country with better weather. I don't want to stay here!"
Sorry about the jive talk. I was watching "Save the Last Dance" with the girls last night and we were going "Holla holla holla - why you all up in my grill foo'?" all night. Hee.
* Seeing Liam Neeson in BB also got the bad taste of Kinsey out of my mouth. Urgh! Self-pleasuring grandma! Ptui!
Friday, June 24, 2005
Ever notice how you never feel more alive than when you're slightly uncomfortable, or even in pain? You don't lie in bed wrapped in a nice warm doona, reading a book and eating chocolates and thinking "Hmm, I've never felt more alive." You think it when you're outside in the freezing cold, or your heart's racing from speeding downhill on skates, or your muscles are burning from pushing your body too far.
Feeling alive isn't always about feeling comfort. Wow, that's the deepest thought I've had all day.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
My mother said something interesting the other night. She was talking about how a lot of guys are going around sporting that interesting quiff-type hairdo à la David Beckham, except she didn't describe it as such, and used a lot more hand-gestures.
I was getting a little confused when suddenly she said "You know, like Tintin!" "Holy cow!" I thought. "She's hit it on the head. Now that I think about it. They do look like Tintin!" It's funny to think about all these guys walking around thinking they look so cool when they actually resemble a 1920's comic book character who wore short pantaloon pants :)
I also noticed an abundance of these styles amongst the clones at the Llama Bar when I went with the girls + 1 escort/chaperone to Subi a few Saturday nights ago. Funny place, the Llama Bar. You'd see someone and go "Hm, he's alright," and then see someone else and think "Isn't that the same guy, but in a slightly different shirt?" Then you realise you've stepped into an episode of the O.C. - clone city! Definitely no rugged individualists in this group. Then on to the Sapphire Bar. Too much douf-douf music and even more posers. Sigh. How hard is it to find a place in this town where you can: 1) be silly 2) dance to songs you know 3) sing along to songs you know?
And sigh, the boys have learnt a new word and were using it today: bukkake.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Hilarious. I've just received the Priceline magazine, which is basically a huge advertising catalogue, but printed on nice shiny managzine paper, and here is my horoscope for this season:
"Your working life is a major feature during the autumn months. Interaction with colleagues and new projects are on the horizon - a perfect time for you to bring all your great ideas forward. Stay well presented and fresh at work meetings and functions with Summer's Eve Feminine Cleansing Cloths 16pack, $5.39."
I suppose it could have been much worse, it could have started with:
"Leos are vulnerable to thrush!"
"Leos, have people been avoiding you?"
Oh dear, this could so easily turn ugly. I will desist here.
Monday, June 13, 2005
I love my dialect group. It's so rude and completely straight to the point. It's the Dr. Phil of Chinese dialects, but with hair.
An aunt of mine (who shall remain unnamed - Ching, if you would like this entry deleted, do let me know) used to breed terriers. Very cute ones. Anyway, as she was driving around the neighbourhood one day, she spotted a rather fetching cocker spaniel that she thought would make a good, erm, donor to her stable. So she decided to borrow it for a couple of days. And before you decide to pile on the recriminations, let me remind you that this is South East Asia we're talking about. People either let their pets roam free or chain them up all day. Sometimes they end up as other people's lunches. I've seen dead cats on top of rubbish bins and bits of dogs, well, let's just not go there. I'm not condoning it, but that's how it is. A dog here, an underage sweat-shop worker there, meh, it's all the same to some people.
So she lures the dog into the 4WD with some biscuits, and manages to smuggle it home, where she sets it up with one of her desperate ladies and waits for the fireworks to happen. The dog just sits there. Shoving the dog closer to the target and, at one point, lifting said dog into position have no effect whatsoever.
My grandmother happens to walk past, takes a single look at the situation and sums it up in three words: "BO LAM PAH!"
A closer check does indeed, reveal, that if our dog were human, he would be singing soprano and loving pastels (gross generalisation, I know). Hee.
Hokkien is also very good for swearing at impolite people, but only in countries without a large migrant Asian population. Colourful epithets regarding the genitalia of the man who just shoved you on the escalator, or the current occupation of the mother of the woman who stole your place in the queue, may all be freely bandied about without fear of imputation. So - no storing up of tiny balls of rage and raising the blood pressure, and public swearing without getting in trouble. It's all win-win :)
Kylie was a flop. They expected 1400 people at the Harbourside and only 100 showed up, apparently. So we had a drink at Little Creatures and then went back to D Court to play Pictionary and Charades.
I have the image of Kim doing the charade for "The Virgin Suicides" burned into my eyelids.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Do you know how offputting it is to be eating spare ribs while your parents discuss cannibalism?
I went on a little excursion to the video store and got out a swag of DVD booty, ar. So I'm watching Sugar and Spice and the character of Jack Bartlett played by James Marsden SO reminded me of someone that I kept bursting into little fits of hysteria (Nicky - you will know EXACTLY who I'm talking about). I call them "golden retriever" men. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you obviously haven't had a lot of experience with dogs... And I don't mean Metro Freo on a Saturday night. Hee.
The parentals have now installed Foxtel, which I have no time to watch, (I don't have a very active social life but I have no spare time on my hands. Yes, I can't figure it out either.) but on the odd occasion that I do, let me say that it just opens up a whole new bag of scariness. How do the people on TWOP put it? Oh yes, you stare at the floor and whisper "Awkward." Another variation is to mutter "Un! Comfortable!" through gritted teeth. Animal Planet - that just leads to places you don't want to explore with your parents watching, and don't even get me started on explaining the plot of Flowers in the Attic to your mother (as I did tonight).
(Actually it wasn't that bad, my mum is very cool. HOWEVER, she is a midwife, so please never, never, never I'm-begging-you-with-a-side-of-Kyan-Douglas get her started on the topic of nipples. In fact, topic-wise around my mother, never venture below the neck area.* Un! Comfortable!)
On Friday night, Anne-Marie and Donna played an acoustic set at the Swan Basement. I arrived early and had to wait in the Swan Hotel (which is, surprisingly enough, above the Swan Basement) with my diet cola post-mix while large beefy men with no chins watched the footy on about 30 televisions. I presume such a large number of televisions were needed due to the absence of chins, necks, and hence, neck-turning ability among the Swan Hotel's usual clientele. Anyway, I think I fitted in about as well as a tampon in a barbershop.
Luckily the Basement opened up 10 minutes later and I made my way downstairs to a completely different room where Graham, Jake and Leesh were seated around a Starfighter type game, and the people that milled around wore shirts with collars (presumably because they had necks). It was like walking through a wormhole (the Star Trek kind). Very strange. Everyone else turned up shortly after Jake had caned Graham's arse by about 1000 points.
AM and Donna played beautifully. AM's written some really lovely songs, full of fire, some of them very moving, and I think she will make it big. (And I will get to go to all the backstage parties. Woo!)
Despite poor Jon's sleepy protests, we went back to D Court afterwards and admired (well, in my case, heckled) the mail-ordered swords (and helmet) that they'd ordered a couple of weeks ago. Carl used his smiting sword to very cleanly cut Graham's Subway footlong in half, so I suppose barbaric weaponry can come in useful sometime. Meh. Bamboo's good enough for me. Although a smiting sword would make an excellent suburito. Sorry, just ignore my inner kendo geek.
*Actually, just don't discuss anything anatomical with my mother at all, even objects above the neckline can be used as cannon fodder - my mother was convinced for years that I was growing a small hump on my back and would end up ringing bells at Notre Dame in my twenties. I think this was her loveable variation on the "Stand up straight!" routine that mothers tell their slouchy teenage daughters. A pity it never came true - I could have named it "Leopold" and pretended it was my dead twin, or repelled annoying people by asking them if they wanted to touch it. Hmm, good times...
Friday, June 03, 2005
Well, my recollection of this is sketchy at best, so I'll put my thoughts down in point form:
- Holy crap, when did Ross Noble get so chunky?
- Hehe, owl cage bling (you had to be there).
- Audience participation should be made illegal (either that or Angie should be allowed to bring an elephant tranquilliser gun with her to all future gigs). There were some very drunk or stoned people who would shout incoherent things from the balcony and at one point started singing "Yellow Submarine".
- Gah, I think the same ditzy blondes from Kill Wil were at the gig. They kept bursting into shrieks of laughter at the wrong moments. And the hullabaloo that erupted when he started talking about Telstra, ye gods. When asked where she worked at Telstra and she replied "Directory assistance", I thought "A-HA! It's all so clear now!" (That's where they used to send the Telstra dregs. Like in Judge Dredd where the exiled judges were sent out into the desert to convert the people who insisted on marrying their cousins.)
- I think Ross-boy was getting a little annoyed. Was it the way he told the people at the back to "SHUT THE F*** UP?" Just a thought.
- During interval Janine (who had been sitting in the row behind me with Allan) said she'd gone to the loo before the show and seen some girls openly popping a couple of tablets.
Angie: "Well, maybe they had a headache and were taking some Neurofen."
Janine (with appropriate "you are a simpleton" look): "Angie, Neurofen doesn't come packaged in clingwrap."
Oh good grief, what a waste of an E (not that I endorse drugs of course blah blah blah). It's a comedy gig - why would you need to take ANYTHING? Well, maybe if you were seeing Wil Anderson live... (NB. Wil, you material recycling hack - I WANT MY MONEY BACK!)
Onto Becca's party. I thought I would need to go to bed early, but whaddya know, ended up staying till 3.30. It's a bit sad, I really should leave just after the peak but for some reason I keep going while other (note: YOUNGER but only chronologically) people start yawning and curling up on the floor.
Carl introduced me to a TV cartoon series called Sealab 2020. I'm just confused now as to whether it's quite clever or just really REALLY crap. Yes, it's that kind of show. Hmm, maybe alcohol was required. Or I should've asked one of the girls in the Playhouse loo for a "Neurofen". Dave arrived as Goldmember. I thought my eyes were going to start bleeding.
I like silver wigs. I think I'll get one.
At a party I dropped a Dorito and then accidentally stepped on it when I bent over to retrieve it. Damn!
When I told Damon he said, "Hey, that was me at the last party!" We come to the conclusion that mortal food cannot withstand our martial arts-enhanced reflexes. (So why wasn't I able to block men cuts from a beginner last night? Dammit!)
Hehe, I was thinking of a friend I ran into in South Perth a few months ago. He was with one of those clone girls that you see at clubs hanging around in pouty packs. Asian fever material. Long Jennifer Aniston hair, perky boobs, beestung lips, heavily plucked eyebrows, very long nails, tight three-quarter jeans, and that permanent pissed off look (or maybe it's the pout, it's very hard for me to tell)... I was mentally rolling my eyes so high that I could see my hypothalamus. "Oh, J, I'm so disappointed in you," was my first thought. So we're standing there catching up on news, and he doesn't even attempt to introduce her, and she doesn't even try to join in the conversation, just stands there poutily and looking kind of pissed off. Hee. I found it all highly amusing.