Evol Kween

Visual Diary

2010-05-03T20:25:00.004+10:00

7:30am - Waiting for the Bus

8:30am - the National Gallery of Victoria

9:30am - Resisting chocolate temptation

10:30am - Foyer

11:30am - waiting for files to burn to CD

12:30pm - Looking for lunch inspiration on Flinders Lanfe

1:30pm - Weirdo ceramic figurine in the hallway at work

2:30pm - so desperate for coffee I'm drinking from the filtered pot

3:30pm - every office has a plant like this, no?

4:30pm - the typing pool

5:30pm - heading along Southbank for home

6:30pm - beer and pub food

7:30pm - walking the dog, he's out there somewhere

8:30pm - watching Project Runway with the bitch and Burty

(I haven't done one of these for a while! I recently discovered the iPhone App called Hipstamatic (late to the party, of course) and found inspiration. Hipstamatic offers a whole heap of quirky, retro and aged lens, film and flash effects. For today's visual diary I let the application choose the combination of effects at random so that I never knew what I was going to get. Squeeeee!)

Putting my Revhead on

2010-05-02T21:06:00.005+10:00

I'm not really interested in cars, or car racing, but even I have to admit the crash that happened at a rally in Queensland yesterday is pretty frikkin' amazing. Apparently only two people in the crowd received any injuries, and the driver walked away with nothing but whiplash. The heavens were obviously in a good mood.

The View

2010-04-28T20:48:00.003+10:00

The Marketing team I'm part of at The Job moved offices on Tuesday. We'll rejoin the other departments in 6 - 12 months when the entire Melbourne office moves into bigger premises. In the meantime, I'm situated in a fancy, serviced office with some great views.

Do you like my dodgy Photoshop work? My desk looks away from Melbourne's centre and out over the city's 'Sports Precinct' and Eastern suburbs. In the foreground is the Arts Centre spire where I've seen many a live show and also worked a casual job behind-the-scenes at art auctions as a student. The spire is a pretty iconic part of Melbourne.

To the right we have the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG), a mecca for football and cricket nerds everywhere. I've set foot in that place twice in my life, I think. Beside that we have Rod Laver Arena, known around the world for the Australian Open Tennis Tournament. I've seen a few tennis matches there in my time, but most of my Rod Laver memories can be attributed to music - my first ever concert (The Cure), attending Pearl Jam's first ever Australian show where kids started tearing up the seats and storming the stage forcing the show to a halt, and loads of others.

Way out in the background are the Dandenong ranges which make up part of Melbourne's outer suburbs. And to the left is the almost finished AAMI Park, which was meant to be Melbourne Storm's home ground, but who knows what will become of that now the rugby club has been exposed as cheats and is rumoured to be shutting down.

Moving to the right slightly, across the Yarra River, I can also see Melbourne's 'Arts Precinct' and South Eastern suburbs. The Victorian College of the Arts (VCA) is actually where I went to art school.....nearly 10 years ago! It's kind of weird watching all those little ant-sized people hanging about outside the cafeteria and thinking that used to be me. Just behind that is The Melburnian, one of Melbourne's uber expensive apartment complexes which looks out over the Botanical Gardens.

And that reddish looking thing on the far left, that looks like a thin red building, is actually the exhaust for the Burnley Tunnel which runs underneath all of the buildings in this photo, plus the Botanical gardens and links up with various Eastern freeways.

They say we'll get sick of the view after a while, but for now it's providing plenty of eye candy while I sit at my desk willing my brain to come up with dynamic slogans and media campaigns.

Another sign I'm getting old.....

2010-04-22T21:24:00.002+10:00

These past few weeks since starting The Job, I've suddenly found myself being asked whether I have children. It's not a question I can ever really remember being asked before. It's not unusual to be asked whether I'm 'seeing someone', but children?? How freaking old and settled do these people think I am?

Even though a majority of the people I work with are roughly my age, most of them are married with young children, so I guess it's kind of logical for them to ask if I've procreated or not. But it's something that makes me feel like I'm not a kid any more. Which I guess I'm not.

I'm a Survivor

2010-04-17T13:50:00.003+10:00

Phew! I survived my first fortnight at The Job. Without wanting to jinx the situation, I'm feeling pretty comfortable with the way things are panning out. At least I don't feel like I want to slash my wrists and resign, unlike the last time I was an employee where I knew before the end of my first week that I wasn't going to last longer than a few months. I'm taking that as a good sign.

Of the 22 people in the Melbourne office, the majority are roughly the same age as myself. Even the Vice President (I love how North American companies use titles like that) of the Asia Pacific region would only be in his late thirties or very early forties. In fact, he took me out for lunch yesterday and instead of an intense conversation about the company and my role within it, instead he just wanted to drink beer and get to know me. Who am I to turn down a drink?

And, given that The Job is with a company involved in finance and therefore a very 'blokey' environment, I was relieved to find that one of the guys on my team is.....well, on my team. The thing about starting a new job, or even just meeting new people is the whole 'coming out' thing. It sounds ridiculous, but us homos spend our whole lives 'coming out'. Hmmm, maybe I should start acting all flamboyant and stuff so that there's never any question. Anywho, it's nice to have a sister in the office. He's a nice guy too, I can see us having little gossip sessions about people's shoes and stuff..........

Changing habits

2010-03-31T21:19:00.002+11:00

I had lunch with one of my main clients today, it was the finale to my period of self employment. I get along well with the two people at this particular company who I've worked with for the last three years, so lunch was informal and filled with laughs.

Afterward, it really hit home that while I'm excited about going back to work for The Man, it will take time to become accustomed to losing the level of freedom that came with working for myself. For example, email exchanges like the one I had this morning with @rperdio and @trxxxy , and the activities described therein are unlikely to be appropriate in my new workplace:

From: Evol Kween
To: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 8:51:00 AM
Subject: Direct message from evolkween

Hey when is that horror film playing at the French Film Fest? What's it called again?

From: @rperdio
To: Evol Kween
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:24 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

You beat me to the punch - I was about to email you about this. It's on next week for the La Mirada Film Fest, Wed 7th 6.30pm, Hierro.

Come? I'll get tix.

From: Evol Kween
To: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:15:11 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

Sounds awesome! Where is it showing?

From: @rperdio
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @trxxxy
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:24 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

All at ACMI. http://www.lamirada.org.au/

Let me know if there's anyone else coming with. Actually, @trxxxy... interested in this? http://www.lamirada.org.au/films/hierro/

From: @trxxxy
To: @rperdio
Cc: Evol Kween
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:28 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

sounds like an interesting film. count me in

From: Evol Kween
To: @trxxxy
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:31 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

It’s a gay girls night out! And I’ll be in a suit because I start my new job next week. Look out!

From: @trxxxy
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:42 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

prostitutes wear suits now??

From: Evol Kween
To: @trxxxy
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:47:38 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

I’m a high-end beatch. CEO cocks only.

From: @rperdio
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @trxxxy
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:47:38 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

Done. Evol, don't forget the rouge and the stockings. CEOs love all that kink.

From: @trxxxy
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:47:38 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

i can just see you now spread-eagled over the board room table

Duckfest 2010

2010-03-28T13:56:00.006+11:00

There's a groovy little cafe in South Melbourne that goes by the name St Ali. Naturally it's hidden down a lane way, this is Melbourne after all, so it relies on word of mouth rather than foot traffic for business. It has a warehouse facade, DIY tables, exposed brick work and funky lighting. The staff are young, professional and sport fancy haircuts.

St Ali is famous for its coffee, of which they serve varieties from around the world, and when I'm in the area that's the main reason I go there. They have a breakfasty-lunchy menu which is too nontraditional for my tastes, call me uncivilised but I just want old fashioned bacon and eggs.

Getting a table at St Ali can be a nightmare - no matter what time you go there. Roughly a fortnight ago, about 11am on a Wednesday morning I was in the area and decided to visit for one of their scrumptious coffees. I thought I'd find a table easilylate morning on a weekday, but no. Not one table available. I didn't have time to wait, so I reverted to my backup venue, Gas around the corner.

On a whim I posted the following message on Twitter:

I wasn't having a go at St Ali, I mean kudos to them for being busy and popular, but a couple of hours later I got this Tweet in return:

To which I replied:

How's that for making the most of Social Media???? St Ali has recently expanded its hours to include dinner and I guess that Duckfest 2010 was a fun way of getting the word out there. They were kind enough to book a table for Andrew and I, and provide $50 gift voucher towards our meal. We attended Duckfest on Friday night, and what a meal it was! Here's the menu:

Click to enlarge

On arrival were treated to complimentary Pinot Grigio and Peking Duck canapes *Nom Nom Nom* before getting stuck into the degustation. The Duck Consomme was absolutely delicious, as was the San Choi Bow filled with shredded duck. The roasted Duck breast accompanied by poached pear was oh so sweet and tender...........the bottle of New Zealand Pinot Noir we ordered went down a treat as well.

The only course which didn't tickle my fancy was the Duck egg caramel, which was essentially creme caramel but the sweetness was overpowered by the taste of duck fat. Perhaps I'm a creme caramel traditionalist, but that minor stumble in no way detracted from the success of the dinner over all.

Thanks St Ali, we'll be back for dinner and I'll make sure everyone else I know pops in for a meal too!

A Single Man

2010-03-26T13:44:00.002+11:00

Wow. I love, love, loved this film. You could print off any frame from this movie and have a beautiful image to frame and adorn your walls. The sets and costumes are amazing, and Colin Firth's performance is heartbreaking.

A Single Man is based on a novel by Chistopher Isherwood. Set in the early 1960s it centres on George (Firth) who is struggling to accept the death of his boyfriend of 16 years, in a car accident. Instead of a stereotypical coming out tale, A Single Man focuses on George's grief and its exacerbation by a time period pre Stonewall, where his long-term relationship has been for the most part a secret.

Despite the sad subject matter, there are moments of hilarity in the film and Tom Ford's direction adds a dreamlike edge which stops things from becoming too serious. It was totally refreshing to see a Queer film dealing with themes other than sex, idealised beauty and coming to terms with one's sexuality.

The sleepy fishing village

2010-03-22T13:01:00.004+11:00

I often mention visiting friends in Metung, three and a half hours out of Melbourne. The picture above is of the Bancroft Bay, at the entrance to Metung village. Pretty, huh?

We were down there again this weekend for Geoff's big birthday bash.

A new career in a new town

2010-03-19T12:28:00.002+11:00

Well it's not in a new town, but similar to the David Bowie song I do have a new job. Squeee, for me!

I was actually offered the job on the Friday before we left for Hamilton Island. I start on April 6 which has given me four weeks to sort things out with my clients and get some R n' R in before I start. I'll still be doing PR stuff but this job is a little more senior than anything I've done before, and the company is involved in the financial industry which is a new area for me too. It will be challenging but also exciting.

The one minor downside......I have to wear a suit everyday. Urgh. In the past I've been able to wear collared shirts and slacks, occasionally donning the suit for special meetings but I've never
had to do the formal attire thing day in day out. Looks like I'll have to do some shopping before I start.

Anywho, here's to new beginnings!

Another weekend, another beach

2010-03-15T12:47:00.004+11:00

We went down to Dromana, on the Mornington Peninsula this weekend and stayed at the Harbour Mistresses beach shack. On Friday afternoon I knicked away from my desk and took Burty out for a wash, because his girlfriend Emelda was going to be staying with us in Dromana and I figured he should clean himself up for her.

Emelda, a little worn out after an intense bottom-sniffing session with Burty.

As you can tell by the following photo, Burty was less than impressed about having all of his favourite smells washed out of his coat.

We did a fat lot of nothing during the weekend - reading in the sun, sipping drinks in the sun, eating, and going out for more food. During one of our excursions for BBQ supplies we stumbled across the most oddly named Mayonnaise any of us had ever heard of.

I mean really, who the hell thought it would be a good idea to put the words Doodle and Mayonnaise together on the one label? The butcher rolled her eyes when she caught me taking that photo, but I'm happy to admit I have a childish sense of humour. It keeps me youthful don't you know.

Late on Sunday morning we had breakfast/brunch at a local haunt known as Two Bouys. They serve up a 'Breakfast Flatbread' which I'd been dreaming about for weeks before getting down to Dromana. It's basically a woodfired pizza covered in egg, bacon, Chorizo sausage and golden syrup. What? Of course it's a healthy meal!

I haven't eaten anything since. Well, maybe some roast beef last night and a chicken satay roll for lunch today. But that's it, I promise.........

And now, less on Jetstar more on Hamilton Island

2010-03-11T20:34:00.005+11:00

Would you believe that I received a 'customer satisfaction survey' today from a research company on behalf of Jetstar? Let me tell you, I did not hold back when recounting our awful experience with the airline over the weekend.

But enough of that, when Andrew and I finally arrived in the afternoon Debbie collected us at the airport in the cool little Golf Buggy (mag wheels!) that came with our accommodation. The weather was incredibly hot and muggy, as we expected, but thankfully there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Which was a relief because this is supposed to be wet season in the Whitsundys. We dropped our luggage off, slipped into our swimsuits and hit the beach for some sun.

Debbie to the right, Andrew's foot to the left.

The ocean was a little too warm for our liking (go figure) so we retreated to the Island's main swimming pool.........which has a bar in the centre of it......which wasn't a draw-card or anything. And what do you know, it was happy hour! Cocktails all round!

The Island had a strange mix of visitors. There were plenty of young families, and yes screaming children but also an abundance of Bogans, as we like to call them down under. By the end of the day the pool was filled with blokes loaded up on tinnies hollering at each other and showing off tacky tattoos while scantily clad, big busted girls chain smoked on lounges in the sun.

By the end of the day the pool's bartenders, all female and obviously backpackers, were completely sozzled which was fine when they were doubling the shots in our drinks but annoying when they were go-go dancing on the bar and flirting with all the cheaply tattooed guys. Still, it was nothing that my iPod and a copy of Stephen King's 'Under the Dome' couldn't block out.

Food on the island was expensive and not all that exciting. But unfortunately that's too be expected at these types of destinations. On our last night we splurged on a meal at the Yacht Club which is an amazing piece of architecture on the main shoreline. The structure cleverly reflects wave-like formations and sail-like silhouettes, and is constructed from very natural looking materials.

I had a delicious seafood risotto with cognac butter and sea urchin roe, my most enjoyable meal of the weekend, while Andrew had a disappointingly small chicken dish. All three of us enjoy eating out and are happy to splurge on a fancy meal now and again, but none of us had ever seen a 'main' meal so small - three tiny parcels of chicken and potato rosti. Birds eat more than that.

The buggy and I on Hamilton Island's 'peak'

Sunset from our balcony

Did I mention that a Kookaburra swooped on me one afternoon and snatched a piece of calamari out of my hand during lunch? Scared me witless, and then the cheeky little bugger sat on the edge of the deck above me and ate his loot while watching me. The Americans on the next table thought this as hysterical.

Visual Diary: The Hamilton Island edition....sort of

2010-03-10T15:37:00.002+11:00

6:30am - Leaving for the airport

7:30am - in the thick of an unruly, un-organised and very large queue to check in for our flight with Jetstar

Sorry folks, that's as far as I got with the visual diary for our trip up to Hamilton Island. You see we had some issues getting onto our flight.

Jetstar are well known for their slightly ridiculous policy of cutting off check-in 30 minutes prior to a flight's departure. They're also known for canceling flights at the last minute and rescheduling some other random time in the future, but that's a whole 'nother story. On Saturday morning we arrived for our 8:30am flight direct to Hamilton Island at 7:30am. The queues for every other airline's check were nice and orderly, while the Jetstar queue was a throbbing throng of people. A complete debacle.

I was with Andrew and Debbie, and between the three of us we had one piece of luggage to be checked in. None of us had checked in online because we wanted to try and get seats together (Debbie had booked her flight separate to us), however the 'baggage drop only' queues (of which there where four compared to two for check-in) seemed to be moving fairly quickly so Debbie and I went to check in via the Kiosks while Andrew stayed in line with the baggage. Debbie managed to check in, however the Kiosk wouldn't accept my booking reference number. So I asked someone from Jetstar for help but she couldn't get it working either and said I'd just have to queue up. While in line, we noticed that a number of other people were having trouble getting the Kiosks working. The queue got bigger and and edgier.

Debbie took her carry on luggage and went off to find food, meanwhile it became clear that Andrew and I were not going to check in before the cut-off time. Eventually a Jetstar rep asked for everyone going to Hamilton Island to form a separate queue right, smack bang in the middle of the crowd. We joined a group of about 20 people in this line which was totally separate to every one else, in fact we were cordoned off from the passengers in all the lines. It was very obvious that we had been put there for a specific reason.

This queue widdled to down to us, and one other couple in front. Nothing happened for a while, we watched other people checking in. We weren't sure what was happening. The lady who had put us in this queue had disappeared. We noticed a different lady walking alongside the very edge of the entire crowd, calling out for anyone else who might be traveling to Hamilton Island. She didn't glance at us and we assumed she was double checking if anyone else needed to join the queue we had been specifically placed in.

Wrong.

A moment or two later she walked up to the four of us and asked if we were flying to Sydney. No, we said, Hamilton Island.

Her response was blunt, "Too bad, check in for that flight has closed."

She said it in such a bitchy manner, assuming we were in the wrong without even asking what we were doing in a separate line, with no one behind or around us, cordoned off from the rest of the people trying to check in for their flights. The couple in front of us immediately got riled up and took argument with the lady, who refused to listen to what any of us were saying. I got fired up to. She maintained that we shouldn't have left our check-in until five minutes before the cut off time. Of course, none of us had, but she couldn't have cared less.

It seemed the original lady who had put us in this line before going for her tea brake, hadn't communicated why we were in this line to the lady who had taken over for her.

Eventually she took all four of us to a counter, still telling us off for not checking in earlier. The couple in front of us had their tickets already and only needed to drop off their luggage. They got on. However, because Andrew and I hadn't been able to check in via the Kiosk and therefore didn't have tickets Miss Bitchface Jetstar Representative and her Evil Cohort at the check-in counter literally said, yet again, this was our fault for not checking in earlier. I tried to explain that the Kiosk wouldn't accept my reference number but both these tarts REFUSED to listen to me and insisted that I had obviously tried to check in via the Kiosk after the cut-off time. I even found the young Jetstar girl who had helped me at the kiosk, to prove that I had tried to check in at 7:30, but she had the personality of a gnat and did little for our cause.

Meanwhile, Debbie is on the plane, headed for Hamilton Island without us, and we've got steam coming out of our ears. The whole situation was completely ridiculous and Jetstar's refusal to hear our side of the story was just plain rude. Just because Jetstar is the 'cheap' airline, doesn't mean they should treat their customers like turds.

In the end, after dealing with another Jetstar girl who was equally as flipping rude, we had to buy last-minute tickets at an exorbitant price for a Qantas flight up to Brisbane where we could catch Jetstar's only other flight that day to Hamilton Island. And I tell you what, EVERYONE we had contact with at Qantas were 1000 times more polite and professional than the Jetstar staff.

Jetstar, if you have PR minions scouring the Internet to track what people are saying about your brand - and speaking as someone that works in PR I'm sure you do - then I say: FUCK YOU.

Whitney doesn't always have it all

2010-03-02T12:25:00.007+11:00

Whitney Houston is currently touring Australia and I just don't understand how the media, and members of the general public can be so surprised that the modern diva's concerts have been somewhat average. Headlines are shouting out things like "Whitney Houston fans will battle for a refund" and "Houston has a problem as Oz tour opens".

To those who paid obscene amounts of money to see Houston perform, I ask you: have you had your head up your butt for the last 15 years? Take this young lass for instance, quoted on News.com.au :

" 'I paid $250 and got a $350 package for the weekend, but I'm a bit concerned about it because I heard in Brisbane she only did a few songs, walked off throughout the show and her voice wasn't that good,' said 20-year-old Jess Morton from North Sydney."

How can people like young Jess be surprised that a woman who recently kicked a ten-year Crack smoking habit wouldn't be able to perform the way she did in her prime? Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking Whitney, I commend her for getting her life back on track but if I was a fan and I'd forked out to see the show I would be expecting a performance that's rough around the edges. Wouldn't any sane person be expecting that? Perhaps Ms Houston is over extending herself, and perhaps Andrew McManus Productions have been over zealous by asking such ridiculous prices for tickets, but ultimately who are these people that don't use their brains when deciding whether to attend or not?

Rant over.

Being a rockstar is hard.

2010-02-23T20:51:00.003+11:00

Regular readers will know about my taste for music, an obsession which started when I was in Kindergarten and my older sister (twelve years older in fact) started dressing me up as Gene Simmons from Kiss. I never did develop Gene Simmons' extraordinary taste for women (cough cough) however I did develop a fascination with Rock n Roll.

Anywho, between 1989 and 1991, when I was roughly twelve old, this was my all time favourite TV show:

Watching the intro now, I can only laugh at how terrible Pugwall's Summer really was. However, back in the day all I wanted in the world was to be Pugwall, minus the beret rocking out in a band. I never really liked the music on the show, it was way too cheesy but I totally loved the concept of a teenage band. Plus, I had a crush on the drummer (what was I thinking?).

I did play in a few bands during high school, I even sang in an awful Metal band called Neglection (I didn't choose the name). Yeah, I lived the dream, playing suburban Battle of the Bands and the occasional school event. But when the sex and drugs took hold the band fell apart, our last record was a flop and suddenly everyone was listening to the Spice Girls.

Weird Wednesdays

2010-02-17T10:12:00.002+11:00

I spend a lot of time trawling the internet for both work and play. The things I stumble across amaze me. So, here's the first of Evol's Weird Wednesdays. Enjoy!

License to birth....

2010-02-16T16:13:00.003+11:00

I have this friend I've known since high school, let's call her M. I've written about her unhealthy marriage, and hyperactive five year old child before. I caught up with her for coffee this morning, for the first time in quite a while. She immediately tells me that she's four months pregnant, which is a shock because the first time she was pregnant she had a really hard time and the doctors didn't think she would be able to conceive again. The problem is, she isn't thrilled about having another baby. She and her husband have struggled a lot financially since the birth of their first child five years ago, and now that he's started school this was meant to be M's opportunity to re-join the workforce full time and get lots of stuff sorted out. Those plans are out the window now. Hearing her talk so negatively about the fact that she was carrying another child was a little frightening. Her husband isn't the most supportive or understanding guy either. I tried to be as supportive as I could without saying "you're fucking crazy and it's time to control of your life." Also, having known M for a long time, I'm fully aware that she has a tendency to exaggerate things just to illicit a reaction from people, especially around her husband who is pretty complacent about her wants and needs. Where the hell am I going with this post? Urgh! I don't really know, I just can't stop thinking about them bringing an unwanted child into the world and how that's likely to play out.

I guess people do crazy stuff like this all the time, unfortunately.

I'm a kweeeeeen (a.k.a. I'm a laaaady)

2010-02-10T19:35:00.002+11:00

Someone stumbled across my music blog - Evol Kween: The Musical - by searching for the term "Kween Japanese cover band". Intrigued, I conducted the same search myself and holy crap (!) there is actually a Japanese Queen tribute band called Kween. The Freddy Mercury impersonator is my new hero!

Help! I'm old!

2010-02-09T14:08:00.006+11:00

While inspecting my face in the mirror this morning and deciding whether to shave or not, I discovered a small number of stray hairs sprouting from my shoulders!

FROM MY SHOULDERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't want to sound like a raving queen, but is this the end? I mean, I'm not a particularly hairy guy, nor am I adverse to guys with body hair but now I have hair on my shoulders!!!! I feel old, not to mention confused about how to remedy this situation!

MIssed it by that much.

2010-02-04T21:35:00.002+11:00

So, that job I was interviewed for just prior to Christmas, and was then called back in for another round of meetings last week.........I didn't get it. Apparently it came down to myself and one other candidate. Le sigh, the search continues...........

Intruder alert!

2010-02-03T11:18:00.004+11:00

Yeah yeah, I know it's been ages since I last posted, and the trip to Japan is nought but a distant memory already. However, I hadn't mentioned that one night (actually, morning) we had an intruder burst into the apartment we were staying in at Niseko.

After 10 days of hotel rooms where as soon as you shut the 'front' door they lock automatically, we kept forgetting each night before bed to lock the front door of the Niseko apartment we were staying in.

Our apartment in Niseko

At 4am on our second last night Andrew and I were woken by a loud bang in the entrance hall, followed a few seconds later by our bedroom light bursting on. Someone was standing at the foot of our bed. For a split second I thought it was just one of the two friends sharing the apartment with us. But that wasn't the case. It was a shaggy looking guy in his late twenties, obviously incredibly drunk and/or high as a kite. He immediately started screaming at us to "get the fuck out of his room". He was Australian. Bloody bogan. He was really agitated - I have a feeling he was a little confused about seeing two guys in a bed together....... - and kept telling us to fuck off out of his room. Then he produced his driver's license and walked right up beside me in the bed, flashing the license in my face, still swearing like a sailor. I have no idea what he thought the license was going to prove......

I was getting a little worried at this point, and given that both Andrew and I tend to sleep in the nude I wasn't in a hurry to get out of the bed. I calmly tried to tell the guy that he must be in the wrong room, and asked if he recognised any of the clothing and other detris spread about the room. Meanwhile, Andrew was sitting on the edge of the bed struggling to put his tighty whiteys on with shaking hands. As soon as Andrew stood up, the intruder went quiet and ran off, slamming the front door behind him. By the time Andrew got out onto the stairway the guy was gone.

The whole episode lasted no longer than a minute, but felt much longer than that. We didn't sleep very well the rest of that night...........

More of Niseko

2010-01-13T21:42:00.006+11:00

We had six days and seven nights in Niseko, and while the weather was pretty average for most of the time, we only had one day where the conditions were so bad we didn't go out. And on our last day the weather was even clear enough for us to get photos like this:

The thing about skiing/boarding overseas is that the runs are so much longer than what we have in Australia. Like three, four, even five times longer. This isn't a bad thing, it's just that we're not used to finding the energy required to make the distance. So while the locals zip down to the lifts with barely a pause, you'll find us catching our breath on the side of a run from time to time. As a snowboarder it's my toes that get sore and cramped (steering your board is all about rocking back and forth on your feet) while the rest of my posse are skiers so it's their calves and thighs that get sore.

On our last night we went night skiing. I use the term night skiing loosely because it's dark by about 4:30pm during Japanese Winters (even during Winter in Australia it doesn't get dark until 6pm). Most of the mountains in Australia offer night skiing, but the lack of runs hardly makes it worth it. Each night in Niseko, conditions prevailing, there were three major runs open and hardly anyone out there. We realised why no one was out there while we were out there - it's fucking cold, to be blunt. We lasted about 45 minutes before scrambling back indoors and opening a bottle of wine. Still, it was fun, and so much more surreal to be out in the powder under man-made lights.

That's your host in the background

We ate amazingly well while at Niseko, another major difference between international ski resorts and the mountains back home. One restaurant in particular, called The Barn, was a little on the expensive side but oh so worth it for the most amazing selection of California rolls any of us have ever eaten. The fish and mango rolls (see below) were out of this world tasty, while the 'Caterpillar Roll' of Eel and avocado was meticulously presented (also see below).

On another occasion we stumbled across an amazing Japanese grill place, where we were the only Westerners in the house. Always a good sign to be eating amongst the locals. In particular, the fresh Deer was super tender and juicy. I felt bad about eating Bambi but you know, taste buds and all that:

Pork ribs on the grill. Mmmmmmm

Given that Niseko is filled with Western tourists, naturally the place is littered with Bars serving all manner of drinks. Some of the ice bars were kooky and interesting, but the standout would have to be a tiny place called Gyu Bar, which has a refrigerator door as its entrance:

Most people would struggle to get through that door, but I'm a tall guy so it was a REAL struggle. However, once inside I could stand up straight inside a living-room sized bar whose walls were lined with shelves filled with old vinyl records. They were playing slightly scratched reggae albums on the stereo, which I thought was hilarious because, you know, we were in the snow fields rather than some tropical ghetto. It was too dark in there for me to get any good photos, however I did manage to snap a shot of this original Banksy which took pride of place on one of the walls. Whether or not the man himself has actually visited this place, or if someone stole this plank from a street somewhere we'll never know......

When Banksy visited Australia he left lots of these critters around Melbourne (the text says 'Laugh now, but one day we'll be in charge')

When in Japan do as the Japanese (and drink Sake)

In a nearby supermarket we found the biggest apples we've ever seen.....must be Japan's nuclear power

Steamy afternoon in Japan.

2010-01-05T20:49:00.004+11:00

We're currently up in northern Japan, on the Niseko ski fields. Long runs, lots and lots of snow and FREEZING COLD. That picture above shows the view from the living room of the apartment we're in - not bad for a package deal!

Yesterday afternoon, after a hard day on the slopes we had our first experience in an Onsen (Japanese bath house). In times gone by these natural springs were where the locals washed themselves, today they're more a place to unwind body and mind.

Strict procedures must be followed at all times: Men and woman are segregated. You must 'retire' all clothing, and then shower vigorously using lots and lots of soap. Modesty towels are allowed while you make your way to the water, but the towel itself is absolutely not allowed to touch the water. It's funny seeing all these little Japanese men sitting around in the water with towels on their heads.

The water is crazy hot, but oddly refreshing. The spring is shallow, while sitting on the bottom the water barely covers your chest, which makes covering your pink bits a little awkward. But eventually the heat gets to you, modesty goes out the window and you're standing out of the water dipping your limbs into the surrounding snow.

I can see why the Onsen is a big thing for the Japanese. We all felt so rejuvenated after spending some time in the water. Sore muscles and aching joints were gone. Although, that could have had something to do with the cans of Sapporo we were drinking.

...and a happy New Year to you too.

2010-01-03T01:15:00.002+11:00

The other crazy thing about Tokyo, and I imagine Japan in general is how polite and eager to please everyone is. Each time we stopped to check a map someone would offer assistance ; we had people offer us their table in restaurants. All the locals are so eager to please, it's very refreshing and would rarely happen back home.

I spent an afternoon record shopping in Shibuya the day before last, and that was fantastic. It's a much more 'creative' part of of the city. Street art everywhere (including pieces by Melbourne based kids), lots of interesting looking people and alleyways littered with quirky shops. Shibuya is also where Tokyo's well known and oftem photographed intersection is, apparently the busiest pedestrian crossing in the world. We were first there in the early afternoon and the intersection itself was reasonably quiet, however we were there again last night and the place was a madhouse. But that seems to be Tokyo in general, the streets are run-of-the-mill quiet during the day, yet in the evenings every man and his dog is out and about. Apparently, this is because people live in such small apartments, which they share with so many people that no one wants to go home after work.......

Our New Years Eve was a lot of fun. The Harbour Mistress has a work colleague who moved to Japan a few months back, to work out of the Tokyo office. Apparently David is a very reserved and serious man in the workplace, however .........The plan was to have a pre-dinner drink, head out for some dinner and then visit a temple to see in the new year (all the locals see in the new year at a temple.) However, David and Mark were so hospitable that by 11:30pm we'd shared 5 bottles of champagne, a bottle of Sake and started drinking some crazy japanese spirits. At 11:40pm we made a mad dash for Tokyo Tower - a replica of Paris' Eiffel Tower - but of course, we didn't make it by midnight. Still, the atmosphere in the streets was awesome and it was fun wandering around taking it all in. We didn't get back to our hotel until 4am. Needless to say that the following day was a little......slow.......

Tokyo was such an awesome experience, such a crazy clash of cultures. I feel like we only got to explore the tiniest piece of the city overall, so I'm very keen to come back again. Today we trekked up into Japan's North Island, to Niseko were we'll being Skiing/snowboarding for 7 days. IS this when you wish me to 'break a leg'? Maybe not.....

Two days in Tokyo

2009-12-29T21:03:00.004+11:00

I'm writing this is a hurry and take no responsibility for typos and poor grammar!

My very first impression of Tokyo was/is - cleanliness. Which is next to godliness, right? So that isn't a bad thing. But sheez, this place is clean! I feel like I could eat off the pavement. No litter. Barely any Graffiti. It's considered bad manners to eat or drink on the street. Clean.

However, smoking inside restaurants and bars is still considered OK. And on a few occasions we've walked past public toilets that don't do much to hide the people going about their business. And sex-related magazines and objects can easily be found in the most random places.

Despite the huge cultural differences between a place like Melbourne, Australia and Tokyo, I don't feel as out of place as I did when visiting Hong Kong (the only other Eastern city I've visited to date). I think this comes down to the Westernised nature of the architecture and people's dress sense here. I imagine New York to be very similar to Tokyo.

We're staying in Shinjuku, which is a 15 minute train ride out of Central Tokyo. Yesterday we wandered around Shinjuku for the whole day, just getting our bearings. Great record stores, crazy little hole-in-the-wall food places, lots of flouro lighting and signage, karaoke joints, shopping aplenty and temples in random places. During the day, we were surprised how quiet things were. Last night when we ventured out for dinner, we experienced the real Tokyo - people EVERYWHERE.

And all of these people are incredibly nice. Every time we took out a map, someone would stop and offer assistance, whether they could speak English or not.

This morning we got up early and visited the world famous famous markets in Central Tokyo. Oh my, we though Shinjuku at night was busy........the market was just insane. It's the only place so far where the people border on impatience. They ride around on these little motorised trailers and they aren't afraid to drive into you if you're in the way. One guy actually lent over and pushed Andrew out of the way, to the amusement of the guys in the surrounding stalls. The thing to do after a visit to the fish markets is to eat fresh Sashimi, but after seeing all the tuna carcasses etc, none of us could stomach it.

After that we wandered over to Ropongi Hills, where the 52 storey Mori Center offers 360 degree views of the city. Looking out over this sprawling megalopolis makes you realise just how small Australian cities really are.

We're back in the hotel now and after a few Asahis downstairs we're resting our feet before heading back out for a meal at Tokyo's equivalent to the local Pub. I'm recording some footage to make a vidcast when I get home, but in the meantime here's some photos......

So it's been a while....

2009-12-28T19:50:00.003+11:00

Preface
I haven't had internet access for the last few days, so the following was actually written on Dec 26th........

Yes, it's been quite a while since I blogged last. I've had some enquiries as to whether I've given up on blogging, which I haven't. Rest assured that if I did, I'd post some sort of parting message so as not to leave anyone hanging. Cause I know how upset y'all would be......

It's a shame that I haven't had as much time as I'd like to devote to blogging this year, and admittedly I've become a little sidetracked by the Boysfornoise podcast and my music blog. However the last month in particular as been particularly crazy, trying to juggle wrapping up work for the year with the inevitable 'we must see you before Christmas' catch ups. It's bizarre how Christmas seems to make people think that they're never going to see each other again. What's with the mad rush to socialise with everyone you know before the new year? Anywho.....

So, I also made a fairly major decision a couple of weeks back. After two and a half years of self employment I've decided to rejoin the rat race. Actually, after working on my own in a home office for so long the rat race looks really appealing. I've been debating this decision for months in my own mind, but I felt like going back to work for someone else was a sign of failure, until someone pointed out to me that I was thinking of looking for a job because it's what I wanted to do, not because my business went under or anything like that. I need people to put things in perspective for me sometimes, I'm ever the pessimist. Glass half empty and all that.

So, I thought that being Christmas time, during a supposed Global Financial Crisis (this phrase deserves capital letters, of course) that it would take me months to find a job. However, after getting some advice on my resume from a friend who works in HR, I Ianded three interviews after only a week of job hunting. Go figure. I've got a second interview with one of those companies in the new year, so this is all happening much faster than I'd thought it would.

Oh, and I suppose now would be a good time to mention that Andrew and I are going to Japan for a couple of weeks. This trip has been planned for six months or more and I've got no idea why I hadn't mentioned it earlier. It all started because the Niseko ski resort was offering REALLY cheap packages, and then Jetstar was offering crazy cheap flights, so we thought why the hell not? We've got a week in Tokyo, a week up on Niseko and a few days in Kyoto. So I'll have plenty to blog about in the coming weeks. Stay tuned.

We've actually been in Queensland for the last few days. We spent Christmas with Andrew's brother in Toowoomba, which is a couple of hours in land from Brisbane (for my international readers). Toowoomba is a pretty blue collar town I guess, the locals can be pretty rough around the edges. I've never been in a bottle shop before, where the brown liquors (Bourbons etc) have plastic, anti-theft tags fixed to their lids to stop people from drinking in the store................ Even though Toowoomba resides at the base of a mountain range, it still has the humid, Tropical whether found throughout Queensland. It's kinda wierd experiencing such hot but damp weather when you're surrounded by gum trees and bush scrub. Andrew's brother and his wife took us on a bit of tour this morning, and despite the run down vibes of Toowoomba, you can still find some beautiful views, like this:

As I write this, we're rattling down the highway in our hire car, listening to Talking Heads' Remain in Light album (the best Talking Heads record, period) on our way to Coolangatta where tomorrow morning we fly out to Tokyo. See yall in the land of the rising sun.

Retro wear

2009-11-30T21:15:00.000+11:00

Snapshots

2009-11-23T22:20:00.000+11:00

As Gym Class would say, here's some 'iPhone reportage' from the last few months.

A selection of cool photos that I've snapped on my iPhone recently.

Juno

2009-11-11T13:21:00.002+11:00

Despite my keen interest in film, I'm regularly playing catch-up with movies that everyone else has seen bar me. For some reason I find it difficult to get to the cinema unless it's for a film festival where I can pre-buy a bunch of tickets and therefore be locked into attendance.

Juno was released in 2007. I finally saw it over the weekend.

Juno won plenty of awards at the time of its release, but still had its far share of people who thought it was over rated. I absolutely loved it. I haven't laughed along with a film so much in ages.

Juno is a sixteen year old who loses her virginity to long-time admirer Bleeker, and ends up pregnant. Rather than some moralistic tale of parents struggling to accept their daughter's actions and the ruined lives of teenage mothers, what follows is a heart felt story about an independent young girl making her own choices in life. She decides to adopt the baby out, and in the process learns a lot about love and relationships.

It sounds cheesy, I know, but Juno is a fiercely individual character who makes the film quirky and special. She always says exactly what's on her mind and that's usually something hilariously out-there.

I especially liked that its teenage characters were all treated as people much more aware of what's going on than adults tend to give them credit for. There was none of the sex crazed, binge drinking, bong smoking stereotype.

Juno also uses one of the best euphemisms for Penis that I've heard yet....

.....Pork Sword.

And on that basis, how could you NOT watch this film?

Is it just me, or is this ridiculous?

2009-11-04T21:18:00.003+11:00

Hello, Darkness

2009-11-02T21:22:00.003+11:00

I've been rather busy in between posts. I turned 31 (shhh, don't tell anyone), I've been pretty busy with work and most importantly Melbourne had its first ever Horror movie festival - Hello Darkness. Squeeee!

Held at ACMI last week, Hello Darkness featured four nights of Horror double features. Some were old-ish films and others were Australian premieres. Having already seen the older ones (Haute Tension, Shietan, The Descent and Let the Right One In) I opted to see four of the newer films. First cab off the rank was:

This uber low budget ghost flick has caused a real stir in the US recently. Apparently it's made its budget back more than 15 times since its release a few weeks ago. I did everything in my power to avoid gaining any expectations about Paranormal Activity which was freaking difficult because every horror podcast and blog has been banging on about it.

The film's premise is simple (not unusual for a horror flick, huh?) - a young couple have experienced weird happenings in their home, so they set up a video camera in their bedroom hoping to record some evidence. Yes, it's The Blair Witch Project all over again, but Paranormal Activity relies much more on subtle effects to bring on the creeps. Some of it so subtle that I can imagine less dedicated viewers getting bored, but that's also what's so charming about it.

Next on the block was:

Personally I thought that this remake of what many call a Wes Craven classic absolutely outdid the original. Horror remakes generally suck, but this film was awesome. Well, awesome is a bad choice of adjective because it's utterly brutal and I probably won't ever want to sit through it again, but you know what I mean. Last House on the Left tells the story of two parents who seek revenge on the thugs that raped and murdered their daughter. The 1970s original is best known for its extended rape scene, and that's about it as far as I'm concerned. This remake concentrates much more on developing its characters so that when the bad juju begins you actually feel for the people involved. Highly recommended.

And then I saw:
Not knowing anything at all about this film I went in with no expectations.......I was a little disappointed. Dead Man's Shoes describes itself as a revenge film, focusing on a young soldier who returns from the front line to terrorise a bunch of thugs for torturing his mentally retarded brother. noticing some reoccurring themes here? In reality this film tries to tackle too many subjects and ends up saying nothing at all. I think it wants to explore how people deal with loss, the effects of war on the psyche, and to a lesser degree the lives of England's lower class. But none of this is looked at in any depth and the characters are very two dimensional.

I ended the festival with another heavily hyped film:

You haven't seen the first Descent film? Shame on you! Rent it, buy it and then watch it in the dark. It's amazingly claustrophobic, and features a fantastic all female cast of ass-kicking extreme sportswoman.

Part two begins two days after the cavers go missing and this time it's a rescue party that find themselves lost and on the run in the uncharted cave system. It's entertaining, but ultimately no where near as clever as the first film. Part two relies much more on gore, where as its predecessor used the pitch black, constrictive cave system as a terrifying character in itself.

Roll on next year's festival.

Dick

2009-10-23T16:06:00.004+11:00

What's everyone got planned for the weekend? I gotta get going, I'm running late for Dick Dale's Ls Vegas show. Hopefully he keeps his clothes on and won't look like he just sat on his guitar (although those outfits are just as scary). Have a good one.

Gastronomic weekend

2009-10-20T19:28:00.005+11:00

After a hectic week it was truly a relief to hit the road and visit our friends in Metung for the weekend. This was to be a particularly special occasion, as Toni's son, who is a Chef, had offered to roast a pig for us in a neighbour's woodfire oven. Having eaten this young gent's food before, we knew better than to refuse.

The dogs preparing to sniff each other's butts in hello

The four hour drive is an exhausting one. More so for Andrew who prefers to drive, than for me who prefers to have a doze with my iPod on.......Anywho, we arrived at about 6pm, had a few beers at the Metung pub and returned to the house for a scrumptious piece of eye fillet with a salad of beetroot leaves, fennel, orange, lemon juice and marinated beets.

The following day the woodfire oven was started a little later than planned, and the people who owned it had some errands to run. So I volunteered to hang around stoking the fire, which is harder than it sounds. But who am I to complain when they left me with a bottle of French champagne and a plate of cheeses?

By the time they returned I was lightly roasted myself, and promptly had a snooze upon returning to the house. I awoke to the arrival of our poor little friend, the pig. To be honest, I couldn't look too closely or else I wouldn't have ended up eating anything. Poor little guy.

Dinner started with (more) champagne, and oysters served with lime juice, sliced orange and chili. Oh my god they were amazing! I was too busy eating after that to photograph any of the food, however the following dishes included a cauliflower soup and seared scallops wrapped in angel hair pasta. Burp.

Oh my, these really were the most fantastic oysters I ever eaten.

As if that wasn't enough food, we still had to eat the pig! It was served with an Italian salad which combined bread, onion, tomato and baby spinach to great effect. Unfortunately the woodfire oven hadn't been quite hot enough (not my fault, they assure me!) so the poor little pig didn't end up as tasty as he could have been. But the apple and pear tart that arrived for dessert more than made up for that.

Did I mention that there were 15 of us for dinner?

Things got a little foggy after dessert, I think we got to bed at about 1:30am which isn't too bad considering. One of the guests offered to have us over for brunch the following morning. They have a deck in their backyard with a fantastic view of Metung's lakes, which was a nice way to get used to our expanded stomachs and slightly sore heads.

Why is it that sometimes the more you eat, the hungrier you get? As if the night before wasn't indulgent enough, we were treated to oven baked eggs with spinach, leek and cream. I'll have to do a lot of swimming this week......

Burton tries on his "if I look sad enough they might give me some of that" face at the breakfast table

Designing my life

2009-10-09T19:06:00.000+11:00

One moment it's Monday, the next it's Friday night. Where are the weeks going? It's October already! This time last year I was in Paris......

I started a short course this week, at the CAE (Council for Adult Education). I feel so old, although considering there was a white haired, retired guy in my class wearing a hearing aid, I guess I shouldn't complain. Anywho, I'm doing a course in Adobe InDesign which is a graphic design/desktop publishing program. I do a lot of copywriting for my clients and find myself outsourcing the subsequent design of brochures and other documents. I've been thinking for a while now that the design part of the process is something I could likely do myself, bringing in a little extra income at the same.

It's not as much of a stretch as you might think. I originally completed a degree in fine art, and for a while there actually considered a career in Graphic Design. I just need to learn how to navigate my way through the necessary software. It's only one morning a week for five weeks, and after that I'll probably do a similar course in a couple of other programs that will come in handy for what I want to do. I'm actually quite excited about getting involved in something a little more creative. Who knows, I could be the next David Carson!

Phew! After three hours of learning this week I'm super ired, and because it's Friday I think I deserve a beer. Cheers!

More standards in hygiene

2009-10-06T16:18:00.005+11:00

Following on from my shock soap-from-the-floor-of-a-change-room story I'd like to discuss another important element in standards of hygiene. I give you: deodorant.

We've had some issues with our couch, which we bought 12 months ago. Basically, parts of the fabric have worn through, which is ridiculous for a 12 month old couch that is used by only two people and even then we're at work five days a week. We've had someone from the company that made the couch come out and look at it, then tell us nothing was wrong. We asked for a second person to come out, who agreed there was a problem and took the couch away for repairs. Things were OK for a while, but now the fabric is coming apart again. We've complained and the couch was collected again this morning for repairs.

When the removalists arrived this morning, I opened the front door and immediately I could smell the most intense, sour body odour emanating from the young guy at the door. You know how BO can sometimes smell really thick, like you could eat it? Yep.......

So I retreat upstairs because the smell is seriously overpowering while he and his assistant are packing the couch to take it out to their truck . However, it only took a few minutes for his scent to find its way upstairs and into my tucked-away office. Fuck! Has this person not heard of deodorant? Are we living in the middle ages? Can he not smell himself? I can only assume he's single, because no girl would put up with that stench. But then again, he might have been some sort of S&M freak with a Daddy who loves breathing in man musk. Actually no, this guy was way to unkempt to be one of our sisters.

They were probably in the house for 20 minutes, and when they left the whole place smelt of him and his armpits. It was totally gross.

Deodorant: use it, people.

Something tells me the scene in this photo would have smelt a little....funky

Wishing you all a man-powerfull weekend!

2009-10-02T15:11:00.004+10:00

Soapy standards in hygiene

2009-09-30T15:20:00.006+10:00

People who know me in person might roll their eyes at what I'm about to say, because at a glance I possess a rather thin physique. I've never ever had to watch what I eat or worry about exercise before. However, I recently discovered that I now weigh 10 kilos more than I ever have at any time before.

Andrew has taken to calling my new stomach 'Miffy'.

I'm not mad on the idea of going to the gym, however I do enjoy swimming and used to swim a few kilometres a week. At a guess I haven't swum laps in more than seven years, but last week I went out and bought a new set of swimming gear, and last night I ventured down to the Melbourne Sports and Aquatic Centre, or MSAC as it's known.

MSAC is where the swimming events for the 2006 Commonwealth Games were held along with various other high profile Swim Meets. Ian Thorpe has graced these waters with his pearls. So to speak.

Ian "I'm not gay" Thorpe

Anyway, I struggled through my first swim in years, but what I really want to post about is what happened in the change rooms after wards.

Stop.

Lift your mind out of the gutter. Now read on.

As I changed into some dry clothes, I noticed a guy in the shower opposite me picking up scraps of other people's soap - YES SCRAPS! - from the shower floor and using them to wash himself. He even washed his face with them. Who the hell does that?!?! He looked like he could afford soap, and he also looked (somewhat) sane. After dry retching a little I quickly packed my bag and exited before he began 'borrowing' people's dirty underwear.

It gives new meaning to the phrase 'don't drop the soap'.

Surprise!

2009-09-26T21:37:00.004+10:00

It was very quiet here in Melbourne today with the football grand final taking place. I'm not the sporty type and don't follow any particular team, which is odd given I've been born and bred in the 'footy' capital of Australia. So while Andrew watched the game on TV, I pottered around in my studio, finished editing episode 8 of Boysfornoise and then decided to watch a DVD.

My first impulse was to watch the 1980s remake of The Blob, which arrived from Quickflix on Thursday. However as I stood in front of the television I had a change of heart, and decided to put on a French film called The Piano Teacher instead. My Quickflix account sent me out a copy of The Piano Teacher a few weeks ago now, and it's been sitting on the cabinet asking me to watch it ever since. Being a huge fan of Michael Haneke's films since Funny Games (his original Austrian version, not his American remake) I knew that The Piano Teacher wasn't going to be a piece of light-hearted entertainment, and lately I haven't been in the mood for anything too brain taxing. But you know how sometimes those things you find yourself avoiding end up really surprising you? That's totally what happened to me today.

Born in Germany, Mr Haneke is (in)famous for writing and directing confronting films that revolve around the darkest corners of modern day life. His films are never easy to watch, but he has an incredible knack for creating characters that are both repulsively human and incredibly engaging. His films are rarely gratuitous, but his camera never flinches from what we don't want to see.

Michael Haneke

The Piano Teacher was a film that I'd previously avoided because I'd been misled to believe it was a Lolita style love story about a piano teacher who has an affair with a pupil. There's far more to it than that.

Erika (played by Isabelle Huppert) is a 40-something year old Professor at a music conservatory. Although she displays little emotion, it's clear that she takes great joy in belittling her students. In fact she's a complete bitch. Erika still lives with her mother, a total control freak who protects her daughter as if she were a five year old. They share the same bedroom and sleep in twin beds. Together, they're just plain weird. As Erika's character unfolds we learn that underneath her ice-queen persona, and unbeknown to her mother she harbours sadomasochistic fantasies where she is the 'victim'. Erika has a penchant for visiting film booths in porn shops and smelling the discarded tissues; she likes to cut herself with razors. You know, the usual sexual urges......

As viewers we're privy to Erika's strong facade, as well as her sad and isolated inner self. When 17 year old Walter becomes besotted by Erika she divulges her darkest secrets to him, but Walter is repulsed and things quickly go very pear shaped.

I could not take my eyes of Isabelle Huppert during this film. She is completely amazing as the confused, lonely and outwardly emotionless Erika. Huppert's ability to display a huge range of emotions with only the subtlest of facial expressions or gestures, makes Erika and her icy persona a very powerful character.

I thoroughly enjoyed The Piano Teacher although it won't be everyone's cup of tea. The pace is slow and some of the characters are so overblown they border on parody. And like a lot of European cinema, there is no real conclusion to the story, which is likely to drive some people crazy. However, if you're open to the experience I'd highly recommend it.

Beyonce and the margaritas

2009-09-18T10:39:00.005+10:00

On Tuesday night Cloudcontrol and I saw modern-day diva, Beyonce perform at Rod Laver Arena. Regular readers will know that top 40 pop music is not usually my thing, however I think Beyonce is quite suave and works with some catchy tunes. I've never been to a giant, pop spectacle performance before either, so I was curious to attend.

On our way to the venue we'd decided to refrain from purchasing drinks before the show, due to the exorbitant pricing of very average beverages at Rod Laver Arena. However, the moment we saw that margaritas were being served in plastic glasses with lights in the stems - LIGHTS PEOPLE! - we just knew we had to gay it up a notch.

Cloudcontrol licks his margarita

So, sufficiently excited after our drinks we braved an arena full of screaming teenage girls and their bored boyfriends (and accompanying parents) and shook our booties along with Beyonce. Although, as WE didn't have a giant sparkly bow attached to our bottoms our booty shaking paled in comparison to Beyonce's. The show was plenty of fun although I was kinda expecting something similar to this:

Leave her alone.

2009-09-11T16:10:00.003+10:00

I don't really follow Sports, so I had never heard of Caster Semenya prior to this morning's announcement that the Female World champion 800 metre runner is a hermaphrodite.

Caster has internal testes instead of ovaries and a womb, which has given her larger amounts of testosterone than the average woman. Now that the secret's out there's talk of stripping Caster of her gold medal. Personally I think this is ridiculous and I feel sorry for her. As if she wouldn't have felt self-conscious enough about her body during her life, now the whole frigging world is talking about her genitals.

Imagine how awkward life must be for people born as neither male or female? Everyone should read Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex; not a book about freakshows, rather it's a tale about a hermaphrodite's struggle for acceptance and understanding. A beautiful read.

You Basterds!

2009-09-09T17:13:00.004+10:00

Quentin Tarantino's last couple of movies disappointed me - both Kill Bill 2 and Death Proof relied far too heavily on contrived dialogue and not enough on the story telling he's so good at. Inglourious Basterds is an awesome return to form.

Dialogue is always an important element in Tarantino's movies, and here he uses the device to great effect. Each of the five chapter's that make up this film centre on a witty and fast-paced conversation that builds tension and intrigue before exploding into some sort of climax. Usually a violent one. There's plenty of blood and gore, as you'd except from the master of genre cinema (poor Andrew was peeking through his fingers at the scalpings!).

What I loved most about this film was the way it turned the typical World War 2 movie on its head. It's true that Brad Pitt looks odd with moustache, but I highly recommend Inglourious Basterds regardless.

The Chiropractor

2009-09-07T13:40:00.004+10:00

About six weeks ago after our first trip to the snow for the season, an extremely tense and sore back led me to a chiropractor for the first time. Andrew's been going to a youngish practitioner down the street for a while now, and visible improvement in his long-term back problems gave me some sense of encouragement.

I've heard chiropractors described as being a cult; my own parents refuse to believe that the therapy is doing anything for Andrew's back and wonder when he's going to see a real Doctor. So I trekked down to the 'health and well being' clinic with trepidation, and maybe a little skepticism.

I have to admit that once he'd assessed my problem and I was 'manipulated' for the first time, not only was my back markedly better but that night I had the most rejuvenating sleep I can ever remember. Weeks down the track though, he still has me visiting twice a week and I'm not sure what I'm getting out of the experience. The theory is that your spine/nervous system needs regular 'tuning' to alleviate aches, pain and stress; but how regular is regular? He spends two minutes with me, leaving my wallet $45 lighter and me feeling unsure about what I'm actually getting out of it.

He's a nice enough guy, and I don't think he's out to rip me off. I'm sure he genuinely believes in his practice and what it can do for people. Why else would he says things like 'That's fantastic, Evol, I can feel the healing flowing through your body' as he massages my neck?......

Why else would he tell the lady on the table next to me that her friend, who's just had two miscarriages should start seeing a chiropractor......

I guess there is something slightly cultish about it all. Especially when the practice is positioned as something you need to continue doing forever if you 'truly want to be healthy'. And perhaps I wouldn't be so skeptical if he was attractive enough for me to enjoy having his crotch in my face.

Even so, I'm happy to continue seeing him for the time being. My back does feel much more relaxed and flexible, and I'm able to stay rationale when the jargon comes out. What makes me think twice is the music he plays while you wait for your turn to be cracked. I'm sure some people find Enya and other ambient world-music soothing enough, but personally it makes me want to pull my hair out in clumps and crawl around bent backwards an an unnatural angle like Linda Blair in The Excorcist.

This morning we had Rod Stewart covering Frank Sinatra which segued into some kind of bootscooting, fiddler hoe down. My back goes into spasms just thinking about it. But then, perhaps that's all part of his cultish plan. Use godawful music to ensure people are tense like a spring by the time he comes around to manipulate you.........

Match Bar & Grill (& overly complicated drink ordering systems)

2009-09-02T13:35:00.005+10:00

Former Melburnian Deadpixel is back in town this week and yesterday happened to be his birthday, so Cloudcontrol organised for a bunch of us to catch up over dinner.

Earlier this year Cloudcontrol and I were gossiping over drinks at Match Bar & Grill and when hunger took hold we decided to try out the venue's cuisine. It was a simple but enjoyable experience, so much so that I recommended Tyroga take his partner (husband!) there for their anniversary. After such a good experience we decided that Match Bar & Grill would be a good fit for last night's celebrations. Perhaps this was a mistake.

Situated on Swanston St, just outside the city centre, Match's front bar offers some fantastic views across the State Library and our city streets.

The decor is clean, relaxed and geared towards popular culture. Vintage concert posters and commissioned street art adorn the walls, adding a nice balance to the fancy wine list. Nope, the issue isn't with the comforting environment.

Problem one, was a very limiting Winter menu that focused on burgers (one with bone marrow and blue cheese?) and steak. On my previous visit I'd had a beautiful spaghetti marinara, but nothing like that existed on last night's menu. I struggled to choose, and in the end went for a Wagyu burger which had been dipped in salt, overly smoked and drenched in a cavity-inducing sweet onion marmalade. Yes, it is possible to have too much flavour.

Problem two was the overly complicated system for ordering drinks. Match prides itself on a 'wine tunnel'. You're provided with a credit card of sorts that allows you to taste-test from a selection of wines displayed in temperature controlled cabinets. Each glass you pour is billed to your card, and when you're ready to leave you hand your card back to your waiter for the bill to be tallied.

This works fine when you're popping in for a drink and that's all, or if you're a table of two or three. However, we had a table of ten, and for some absurd reason the only way for anyone to order an individual glass of wine (as opposed to a bottle) was through this 'wine tunnel' system. Why on earth the waiter's can't just take your order and add it to the table's bill I don't know.

What made this awkward was the fact that people on our table HAD ordered bottles of particular beverages, which WERE add directly to our table's bill. Not to mention that one member of our party had arrived early and been issued a 'card' of her own so she could organise some pre-dinner drinks. This card was separate to both the table's bill, and the table's 'wine tunnel' card.

Confused? Yes, we were too. The whole thing became a laughable fiasco, and it wasn't a surprise when (after asking for it multiple times) we received our bill and noticed that a number of the drinks hadn't been tallied. Naturally, for making things so difficult we didn't bother to let them know we hadn't been charged for certain items.

Match; a great bar for a beer, a confusing place to eat. I don't imagine I'll be hurrying back there.

Return of the Jedi?

2009-09-01T16:35:00.003+10:00

I needed to take a little break. I realised a few weeks back that I've been maintaining this blog for three years now. It's a crazy thought, I don't even know where the time's gone. Lots has changed during that 36 months.

I also realised how self conscious and worried I'd become about what I was posting here. Which is completely ridiculous because it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to, right? It had started to feel like a chore, something I had to do rather than wanted to do. Stupid, right? My posts were getting further and further apart.......

So anyway after contemplating the ether I've decided I like the idea of some rejuvenation. I enjoy the act of writing too much, and whilst my day job involves tonnes of writing it's all boring crap I don't really care about. This is a great outlet and opportunity to just....write. Without having to worry about traditional sentence structures and forms of punctuation, or potty language for that matter!

So what's news? Snow, mainly. We went up to Mt Buller five times this season, and on the last occasion we spent five days up there. I guess it's Murphy's Law that after all the snow we had last year - I zipped around parts of the mountain I had never seen before - that 2009 would be a bit of a fizzer. Australia had it's warmest Winter on record, which was celebrated by some and mourned by others. Oddly, most of the time we were up there the conditions were miserable; windy, foggy and wet. No snow though....

Until our last night on the mountain when there was a major dump, which received good cheer from the businesses up there. As we packed to go home, everything was crisp and white like this

Pretty, isn't it? Here's to a crisp, fresh new blog!

2009-08-19T15:13:00.002+10:00

Still catching up on MIFF 2009 reviews: Burning Down the House

2009-08-17T21:34:00.004+10:00

If you ain't a music nerd, you probably aren't going to get much out of this documentary covering the rise and subsequent crash of THE punk and post-punk club, CBGB's. Punk Rock chronicler Mandy Stein renders a touching depiction of the man behind the myth, Hilly Krystal and his will to fight for the survival of a (pop) cultural landmark, even as he succumbs to the claws of cancer.

Prior to seeing this film I knew that every 'cult' rock band of the late seventies/early eighties made their name at CBGB's - The Ramones, Patti Smith, Talking Heads, Blondie and Television to name a few. What I wasn't familiar with, was Hilly Krystal's commitment to giving young, unknown bands a chance to shine and creating a place for youth to get away from it all. It's actually incredibly sad to watch Krystal's baby being ripped out of his hands after 35 odd years by a land lord (who also runs a homeless shelter, no less) demanding a ridiculous rent increase.

In a similar fashion to I Need that Record!, Burning Down the House tells us a lot about the place of greed within society. Interviews and rare footage of all the stars related to this infamous landmark, make it a must see for a all geeks of the musical variety.

MIFF 2009: Hansel & Gretel

2009-08-02T13:50:00.004+10:00

The whole Asian horror scene started off well but quickly fell into a heap of predictable ghost story rubbish. That's my opinion anyway. Yet something about the look of Hansel and Gretel was intriguing enough to get me along to a screening. Dammit! This is just another predictable tale about kids getting revenge on the adults who've wronged them.

After crashing his car on a remote road, Eun-Soo is rescued by a harmless looking girl who leads him to her family's home deep in a dense forest. There's something strange about the girl's family, and no matter how hard Eun-Soo tries trekking through the forest to civilisation, he finds himself back at the mysterious house. Then the girl's parents disappear......

Hansel and Gretel is filled with amazing, surreal visuals akin to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and the children in the lead roles put on very strong performances. This is enough to keep you engaged for the first hour, but the fairytale quickly becomes convoluted and repetitive. At nearly two hours long Hansel and Gretel continues way past its welcome.

Perhaps these ghostly stories have more menace and significance within the cultures they're based in (which explains why the American remakes are always abysmal). They never have the sense of fun and humour that makes watching other predictable horror movies a joy. However, that's just my take on things and if you like this particular genre of cinema Hansel and Gretel might be for you.

(I couldn't find a trailer with subtitles, but this will give you the gist of the film)

MIFF 2009: I Need that Record / The Hurt Locker

2009-07-31T11:13:00.004+10:00

My first music-nerd film of MIFF 2009, I Need that Record questions why close to 3000 independent record stores have closed down in recent years. The answer is obviously corporate record labels and their 'bulk buy' deals with 'mega stores', but it's also apparent that corporate greed is largely responsible for consumers turning to free music downloads.

I Need that Record looks beyond the music, and explores how corporate culture is killing small businesses everywhere and in turn the effect that this is having on communities the world over. It's humorous, well edited and features a cast of underground celebrities such as Ian MacKaye and Glenn Branca.

I'm not one to watch action flicks in general, let alone war films but in an effort to branch out at the festival this year I checked out The Hurt Locker. Glad I did, it's pretty fucking awesome. A gritty and entertaining examination of how war affects its soldiers.

William James is a specialist bomb defuser with a death wish, and when he joins a new unit in Iraq the rest of his team aren't sure how to handle him. As William pushes his peers to the edge by endangering their lives time and again, we begin to realise that he's a lonely soul with his men's best interests at heart. Just like Mel Gibson in the Lethal Weapon franchise, the character of William has a deranged humour that's instantly likable.

Directed by Katheryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker has some uber tense sequences, amazing camera work - the opening explosion is worth the admission alone - and some cool cameo appearances. Highly recommended.

MIFF 2009: Van Dieman's Land / The Burrowers

2009-07-31T10:20:00.004+10:00

Over the last couple of years there's been a spate of cultural references to Irish convict Alexander Pearce, who legend has it escaped from a Tasmanian penal colony in the 1800s along with five other convicts, only to be recaptured alone a number of weeks later after cannibalising the rest of the group to survive.

Apparently Pearce escaped a second time and was again recaptured, with the half eaten corpse of his fellow escapee. However, Van Dieman's Land tracks Pearce's first adventure, in a slowly paced and beautifully shot film that features subtle tensions and minimal dialogue that's often spoken in traditional Irish dialect. Understanding that its audience already knows the story, Van Dieman's Land uses its snail's pace to build anxiety and never resorts to gore. Instead we watch a group of men struggle to balance their morals with a will to survive.

Pearce has always been portrayed as a monster and the instigator of this cannibal tragedy (see Dying Breed, or The Last Confession of Alexander Pearce) but Van Dieman's Land depicts Pearce as a quiet man pushed to the edge by the voracity of his fellow escapees. I really enjoyed this film, but it's slow moving camera and lack of action won't be for everyone.

I saw this based on a recommendation from one of my favourite podcasts Night of the Living Podcast. A spaghetti western Horror mashup? Of course I'll give that a go.

Set in American Wild West, The Burrowers follows a rescue party searching for a family that has disappeared mysteriously from their desolate home. The incident is initially attributed to an Indian tribe but it quickly becomes clear that something non-human is responsible, and the rescue party is next on the list.

Despite its unusual setting, The Burrowers is a paint by number monster flick, the sort of thing that's great to have a giggle over while sharing a drink with friends. The characters are a little flimsy, although well acted and the monsters are predictable (Tremors, anyone?), but what really lets this movie down is a ridiculous attempt at a twist ending. Horror nerds should wait for the DVD.

MIFF 2009: Kill Daddy Goodnight / Humpday

2009-07-29T14:28:00.005+10:00

Another day another evening at the Melbourne International Film Festival. Last night I saw two films: German drama Kill Daddy Goodnight, and the gay-themed Humpday.

Kill Daddy Goodnight was a heavy and confusing film that turned out nothing like that the festival blurb described. It was positioned as a thriller/drama revolving around a Jewish-Austrian lay-about who ends up in New York trying to sell a violent computer game that he's self-developed. Instead, the film was a slowly paced tale of Nazi war crimes and family guilt. With a computer game lurking somewhere in the background.

I wasn't disappointed that the movie turned out to be a drama, in fact its themes were interesting but the dialogue was verbose and the plot nonsensical. Very little was properly explained, including why the main character decided to French kiss his own sister at one point, yes, really. The soundtrack was abstract and menacing even though nothing dramatic takes place on screen. Characters come and go with little rhyme or reason and ultimately I left the cinema feeling unaffected despite the tragic nature of its central topic. The more I think about Kill Daddy Goodnight, the less I like it.

Humpday was also a slightly different experience than anticipated, although enjoyable. Let's face it; myself, Andrew, Cloudcontrol, rperdio and every other gay boy in attendance were there out of curiosity about a film centered on two straight guys making a gay porno.

Ultimately Humpday didn't go where most of us hoped, but it was still awkward and humorous enough to keep our attention. Ben and Andrew are former college buddies reunited after a lengthy stint getting on with their individual lives. Andrew (the bearded one) has become a nomadic, wanna-be artist while Ben has settled down in suburbia with his wife. At a drunken party the pair find out about an amateur porn festival called Humpfest, and are dared to create a 'home-movie' of themselves getting it on. Hilarity ensues.

Humpday isn't about sex; it's about people searching for what's missing in their lives. Ben and Andrew's determination not to back out of the dare because they don't want to appear weak willed, is a quirky way to poke fun at the male ego.

The script is largely improvised which adds to the awkwardness of the situation and brings about some truly cringe inducing (in a good way) moments. There are plenty of laughs to be had but the film's climax (pardon the pun) drags on for far too long and overshadows everything that precedes it.

MIFF 2009: Guest of Cindy Sherman

2009-07-28T13:59:00.004+10:00

Last night I caught a documentary called Guest of Cindy Sherman; an examination of celebrity worship, feminism and masculinity centered on the American art scene. Don't be fooled though; art is a secondary topic in this documentary, anyone could watch this and get something from it.

If you're unfamiliar with Cindy Sherman, she is a prominent American artist who works with photography. For nearly 35 years she has produced self-portraits almost exclusively, although she changes her appearance so drastically that most people are unfamiliar with what she actually looks like. Sherman is also notoriously media shy.

Director and narrator, Paul H-O was a well known personality in New York's art world during the 1990's when he hosted a lo-fi, gossipy, community TV show called Gallery Beat. Through his show Paul met Cindy Sherman and the couple began a five year relationship. What starts out as a portrait of Sherman 'the artist' becomes a funny but sad glimpse into Paul's life, as he's un-intentionally overshadowed and squashed by Sherman's celebrity profile.

The documentary's title comes from a gala dinner thrown by an exclusive gallery owner in Cindy Sherman's honour. Instead of being seated with his partner, Paul was shoved onto a table at the back of the room with the other 'non-celebrities' where his place-card read simply "Guest of Cindy Sherman."

Paul shows us how paparazzi would use Photoshop to erase him from images taken of Sherman at various events, and talks to Elton John's husband, David Furnish about his own experiences living in the shadow of a public personality. Various other celebrity wives and husbands are interviewed as well.

Sherman herself is not the cause of Paul's insecurities, and while watching the film it's very easy to label Paul as somewhat misogynistic and jealous of his girlfriend's success. I'm sure that's at least part of the problem, but it's also difficult to watch his life turn to ruin as he struggles to be part of her life without feeling like a third wheel.

Interesting stuff, highly recommended.

MIFF 2009: Martyrs

2009-07-27T15:18:00.004+10:00

Long time readers are aware of my annual devotion to the Melbourne International Film Festival. For the first time in a while, I'm able to take full advantage of my mini-pass this year and will be seeing 15 films during the next fortnight. Regulars to this blog will also know that I mainly catch screenings that reside in the Horror and Music/Arts genres.........

Last night myself and Cloudcontrol went along to a screening of the audience-dividing French horror film Martyrs. The film was released in Europe and the US earlier this year, so I was privy to the hype surrounding it via blogs, podcasts and other fan sites. I'd actually already seen an English over-dubbed version of the film which I enjoyed (as much as you can enjoy a film of this nature) but found the dubbing a distraction. It was great to see it on the big screen and in its native tongue.

In the off chance that any of my (mainly non-horror loving) readers ends up seeing this film, I won't give too many of the plot's twists and turns away. In brief though, the film revolves around Lucy who was kidnapped and physically abused as a child, and; Ana, the only person that Lucy has allowed herself to form any sort of relationship with since her ordeal. As a young and slightly unhinged adult, Lucy discovers the identity of her tormentors and murders them. Ana, who's actually in love with Lucy, sets about covering up the murders and accidentally becomes embroiled in the rather nasty truth behind Lucy's original kidnapping.

Confused? That's only the first quarter of the film. It spins out of control from there, and while there's no ghosts or monsters involved, the tale does become a tad far fetched. However, if you're willing to suspend disbelief for the sake of the experience, Martyrs has some interesting things to say about man's quest for knowledge and the limits of human endurance.

The acting is great, the cinematography is top notch, the special FX are fantastic and the atmosphere is tense. Be warned though, it's not for the faint-of-heart. Martyrs doesn't rely on over-the-top schlocky gore (decapitations etc) but the violence is graphic and realistic.

Here's hoping the rest of my MIFF experiences for 2009 are as good as martyrs.

Eeeew!

2009-07-26T16:52:00.003+10:00

We pulled up at a set of traffic lights on St Kilda Road yesterday afternoon. I was driving. A cyclist pulled up alongside the driver's side of the car, his thigh and crotch right outside my window. I commented to Andrew that this cyclist had uber pale skin and that his arms and legs were covered in thick but very pale hair. We were talking about this when I then noticed that an array of pubic hair was sprouting out through the fabric around the crotch of the cyclist's very tight bike shorts, and being a very fine day the sunshine was making them glow a very vibrant orange. Did he decide not to wear undies to make his body more aerodynamic? Andrew I had couldn't help laughing, the cyclist looked down at me smiling and then pointed to the lights which, of course had turned green while we were staring. I drove off chuckling but a little red faced.

French and Saunders do Melbourne

2009-07-22T17:30:00.004+10:00

We ventured out to The Palais theatre last night and saw the French and Saunders' live show. I'm more familiar with Absolutely Fabulous and The Vicar of Dibley than I am with their joint skit show, however Andrew's a keen fan and organised tickets for us and some friends.

For a pair of comedians who've been around for close to 30 years and starred in some of pop culture's biggest TV shows, I can't believe how predictable and un-funny they were on stage. Their skits seemed completely directionless, just a series of unrelated 'situations' and characters no one knew, nor had enough time to get to know. This format works fine as part of a TV skit show where quick editing keeps the momentum going, but when you're running off stage between skits to change costumes there is little sense of flow. While they were off stage pre-recorded skits would play on a giant screen - these were actually funnier (slightly) than the live stuff, so perhaps French and Saunder's are more suited to TV, where they can keep recording a skit until they've nailed it?

At this juncture I'd like to add that I was completely shocked at how obese Dawn French is. She can't even lower her arms to her sides!

Poor Andrew was really disappointed. He wasn't alone though, we noticed people leaving the theatre during intermission - when the ushers reminded them to take their tickets or else they wouldn't be allowed back in, they replied that the show was so terrible that they were going home!

Still, there were people who did enjoy the show; about a quarter of the crowd gave them a standing ovation (!!!!!) even though the theatre had begun to empty out during their encore. I don't think the girls noticed though, in fact I got the impression they were so confident in themselves that they felt they didn't really have to try and win anyone over.

But whatever, life's a box of chocolates.

Snow queen

2009-07-17T13:37:00.004+10:00

Our snow season officially begins. We'll be leaving for Mt Buller at approximately 4:30pm this afternoon. Just over a metre of snow, sixteen lifts open and I finally get to try out my new baby....

Hope yall have a great weekend, see you on Monday!

We're happy little Vag... I mean Vegemites

2009-07-09T11:39:00.008+10:00

After 85 years, Kraft has released a new 'flavour' of Vegemite. Some promotional people from Kraft delivered a whole bunch of tasters to Andrew's work, and we now have a pile of them at home.

This new version mixes milk, butter and cream cheese into the Vegemite, making it richer but less salty. I'm not sold on it yet. I actually find it kinda tasteless. I can hear laughter from international readers, who more than likely can't understand what we see in the overpowering taste of Vegemite down here. I think that's the problem for me, the original flavour is such a taste sensation, and by removing that intensity the new version becomes a bit....meh.

Kraft are currently on the hunt for a name to accompany the revised version, which I think is the perfect time to commercialise that old Aussie colloquialism 'Vaginamite'.

Now, the secret to eating Vaginamite (the old one, not the new one) is to spread it thinly, people. Remember, it's not Jam (jelly). There's nothing better for breakfast than toast with fresh butter and a light scraping of Vaginamite. Except if you add tomato and melted cheese to the equation.

Although, something tells me that most of the people who read this blog prefer Penis Butter.

Six degrees?

2009-07-09T11:22:00.005+10:00

Hollywood's wackiest celebrity is living in Melbourne at the moment while his wife Katie Holmes films a remake of the 1973 made-for-TV Horror flick Don't be Afraid of the Dark. I'm surprised Mr Cruise allows Katie to work at all, but anyway...

One of my sister's work colleagues went to a matinee performance of Jersey Boys at the Princess Theatre on Sunday. There were five empty seats beside he and his wife, and the show was running late. Just as the lights went down, a group of people trailed out of a door to the side of the stage - Tom, Katie, their daughter and two body guards walked up and plonked themselves down beside my sisters colleague and his wife.

Do Scientologists appreciate musicals?

Anywho, my sister's colleague couldn't help but say hello to them and apparently Tom was very polite. Although, he said that Katie didn't speak for the whole night and the body language between herself and Tom seemed a little strange. Who know what's going on in that marriage.

Why am I telling you this? Well, you don't get to hear those sorts of stories often in Australia, and I felt like posting something about celebrities.

Boysfornoise

2009-07-05T11:07:00.003+10:00

I mightn't talk about it much on here, but I'm a big fan of listening to podcasts. I prefer the amateurish ones that offer real insight into the different lives of people around the world, as opposed to ones hosted by professional radio hosts and the like. I should do a post about my favorite podcasts some time.

But first, I'd like to introduce Boysfornoise, starring your very own moi and Cloudcontrol!!!!!

Yes, we've been talking it about for ages, and it took longer still to figure out how to record a podcast properly, but...we've done it. Twice, even!

Boysfornoise will be an every-other-week podcast about......stuff....like music, art, movies, popular culture and making fun of people. And maybe a little bit of gay stuff too.

We've just done our second episode where we crap on about whether Michael Jackson’s family were satanists, and agree that Melbourne’s new Public Transport system is going to rock. Oh, and you always want your tram driver to be in good mental health.

Billy gushes over Transformers 2, in our Screenwatch segment. We also run through our top 3 iPhone apps – I like Farts and Cloudcontrol likes Grindin’!

If you're interested, you can find the episode here.

We'll be on iTunes soon. No laughing people, we know we suck and this has all been recorded in Garageband......

Feedback welcome!

Our local

2009-06-25T16:53:00.003+10:00

Continuing my recent spate of posts on Melbourne's dining haunts, here's a few words about our 'local' The Albion.

If you haven't put two and two together by now, Andrew and I tend to eat out more than in. This probably has more to do with lack of organisation rather than not actually wanting to cook. We rarely have the foresight to shop for a week's worth of meals, and don't always feeling trekking through the supermarket after work. Additionally, we're lucky enough to have plenty of places nearby where we can eat good food, without the fine dining prices. Also, eating out is a great way to catch up with friends.

Which brings me to The Albion, in Port Melbourne. Perhaps the only pub/restaurant I know of that's busier during the week than on weekends. Monday and Tuesday nights are 'locals nights' and everything off the counter meal menu is only $14 (they have a restaurant area with a seperate menu as well). You know how most pubs have a 'locals night' where the food's real cheap, but you can only choose out of three or four things? The Albion says Balls to That and has the entire counter meal menu on offer, which must consist of at least 20 edible delights; risottos, pastas, salads, curries, seafood, steak.

They have specials on other nights of the week too, and from 6pm onwards the place is packed. You want to get your order in early because once the place is really jumping it can take a while for your food to come out.

We've been there on a Saturday night once or twice, and the place is super quiet. Like, crickets and frogs quiet. But they don't seem phased given they must make a killing during the rest of the week.

The decor is simple and unfashionable just like a good pub should be. Cheap furniture, distastefully patterned carpet and cheesy photos of the owner doing blokey stuff like fishing. But none of that matters when the place is filled with happy, laughing and over fed people.

Punters queueing up to order their meals.

We were originally introduced to The Albion by a girl I used to work with, whose husband and his friends would travel from thirty minutes away just to have the parmigiana on locals night. The parma is still the most popular dish and it's obscenely huge, so huge that most people can't finish it. I've gone off the parma because I'm sure those chickens have been genetically modified or something. No chicken has tits that big.

Andrew swears by the corned beef, but eating meat that's been boiled in salty water until it's freakishly pink is not my idea of a tasty meal. Instead I go for the Fettuccine Marinara, featuring capers, chunks of tomato, generous amounts of prawns, mussels and fish tossed in a light olive oil. Although, on our last two visits I've had gnocchi (super tender and soft) in a beef ragu. Burp.

Andrew tried a pasta with smoked chicken, bacon and peas and gave it a thumbs up.

When I was working in the city, I would meet Andrew at The Albion after work every Monday night. I know that sounds predictable, but we'd see the same neighbours and other locals there week after week too. In fact we bump into someone we know everytime we're there. The food's good enough to keep people coming back regularly, which is probably why 3AW radio station voted it Melbourne's best pub a number of years in a row.

Visual Diary: Thursday 18 June

2009-06-19T15:24:00.004+10:00

8am - how else do you start the day?

9am - driving through South Melbourne to a client meeting

10am - leaving client meeting

11am - hunting down the final season of The Sopranos on DVD

12pm - back at the desk earning a crust

1pm - This wasn't my lunch, I promise!

2pm - random desk crap

3pm - still earning a crust

4pm - there's nothing sexier than an art smock, right?

5pm - walking the pooch in the park, sun setting in the background. Bloody cold!

7pm - I drove across the city to Carlton, to catch up with cloudcontrol and a friend visiting from Sydney

8pm - dinner at a vegan restaurant. Yes, vegan. Not my choice, but the food was rather tasty

9pm - coffee and sweets at Melbourne's Italian mega-cafe Brunettis. Say cheese!

10pm - Back home, chilling out with Burty.

11pm - falling asleep with a book and my ipod on

Melbourne: The OG?

2009-06-17T20:09:00.003+10:00

International visitors to this blog might not be aware that Melbourne, Australia has been a hotspot for 'gangland warfare'. By that I mean (un)organised crime as opposed to a Los Angeles 'Bloods versus Crips' thing. Australia even has a TV series based on the real-life events I'm referring to.

I bring this up now, because after 2 - 3 years of relative quiet on the 'people-shooting-each-other-in-restaurants' front..............another local crim has been shot in a restaurant. Actually, this time it was a cafe.

The whole schmozzle revolves around a guy named Carl Williams wanting to 'remove' the Moran family (two brothers and their father), who ran a highly successful drug ring, and their associates. It started with the death of a guy called Alphonse Gangiatano in 1995, and ended after another 33 murders (often in public) in 2006. Both the Moran brothers and their father were among that 33.

Two days ago (Monday) Mrs Moran was allegedly an accomplice in the murder of her brother-in-law while he was having his morning coffee in a cafe. Apparently he had something to do with the deaths of her husband and sons.

Confused, much? If you're as interested in the macarbe as I am, you can find out the details to the whole 'Melbourne Gangland War' here.

Weirdly, two of the murders happened eerily close to where I was living at the time they took place. One unfortunate fellow was murdered in his car here in Port Melbourne, across the road from the same supermarket that everyone who lives here frequents pretty much everyday. This was particularly creepy because the night it took place, Andrew and I drove past THE scene on our way home from a night out. It couldn't have been long after it had actually happened because there was only one police car present. We assumed they'd pulled someone over for speeding, and didn't even give it a second thought until we saw the news the following morning.

Another gentleman met an untimely death in the middle of the day, outside his house in South Yarra, literally around the corner from where I was living at the time. I used to walk past this guy's house EVERYDAY on my way to/from work. I was at work when it happened, and had to take a detour to get back home.

The whole saga was a bit of a shock to us Melburnians I think, exposing a world we didn't really want to think existed. Of course at the same time we were all fascinated.

Why am I telling you this? I don't really know; it's just something I've been thinking about again now that this most recent shooting has brought it all back into the spotlight. It's a interesting yarn, and if you can get your hands on a copy of the TV series called Underbelly (see above - but make sure you don't end up with the sequel Underbelly: A tale of two Cities, because it's not as good) it's worth a watch. Good script, decent acting and plenty of Australian Z-grade celebrities. And Rodger Corser looks damn fine in a police uniform. Here's an overview.

Another fine eatery

2009-06-13T20:57:00.005+10:00

Sooo, do you ever find yourself going back to a restaurant because the staff are humorously rude and the portions are a little....slim? Sounds weird, huh. But Andrew and I do, and plenty of others do too.

Victoria Street, in Richmond, is Melbourne's default Vietnamese district. It's filled with run down Asian grocery stores and bakeries, tacky audiovisual shops, the odd karaoke joint and dozens upon dozens of Vietnamese restaurants. There's one restaurant in particular called Minh Minh that Andrew and I frequent on a regular basis.

We were there a little earlier than usual tonight so it was still quiet, but most nights Minh Minh is overflowing with people. The lady who owns it, Sandy, knows where her bread is buttered and does a great job of flirting and toying with the gays to the point where 80% of her clientele is queer. In fact, until a few years ago she went out of her way to hire obscenely young and pretty Asian boy waiters who attracted an abundance of........how do I put this delicately.........'rice queens'. However, she had to stop this marketing ploy when the waiters starting earning extra tips by turning tricks in the bathrooms.

Sandy herself is a fucking classic. Originally from Vietnam, her English isn't the best but that doesn't stop her from abusing customers, bossing everyone around and kicking people off their tables before they've finished because she wants to make room for other customers queuing out the door. But she does this with a cheeky glint in her eye, and she loves it when you give shit back to her. And the waiters love to gossip with the customers about what an ogre she is. Her husband works in the kitchen and it's not unusual to hear her screaming at him in there.

I know this sounds like a horrible dining experience, but weirdly it's exactly what keeps people going back there. Andrew and I eat at Minh Minh pretty regularly (it's so cheap!) and you see the same faces there all the time. It's not unusual to find yourself sharing 'Sandy' stories with strangers on the table next to you. While the neighbouring restaurants are half empty, Minh Minh is bursting at the seams.

As for the food, mostly it's a westernised version of various Asian cuisines. It's lack of authenticity means that the local Vietnamese community don't really eat there. But the food is fresh, and it arrives quickly which makes it another perfect restaurant to eat at before/after a film or something. Andrew and I have our favourites that we order every time:

Spring rolls and spicy chicken skewers

Salt n' peppered calamari and scezchuan lamb

And a lovely bottle of 'Squid's Fist' Sangiovese Shiraz, from funky South Australian winery Adelina Wines

Big. Gay. Weekend!

2009-06-10T13:40:00.004+10:00

The cast and crew (Bernice looking very grumpy)

Awwww

Huzzah!

Harbour Mistress, D.U.P. and I climbed to the summit, in the fog.

Still climbing

On the very peak. Watch your step!

The Snow Pony, a great new bar, with a waiter that the cast and crew took a fancy to

D.U.P. doing his Heidi impersonation

The first sign of snow for the season

Late night shenanigans

The Italian Waiters Club

2009-06-01T17:55:00.005+10:00

One of the cool things about living in Melbourne is the city’s nooks and crannies filled with great bars and fantastic little restaurants. On Saturday night before seeing Billy Elliot: The Musical at the Her Majesty's Theatre, we had a bite to eat at Melbourne’s worst kept secret, the Italian Waiter’s Club.

Apparently this tiny little haunt has been in business since the 1940’s. It gets its name from the Italian and Spanish waiters who would retire there late in the evenings after work for a glass of vino and a decent feed. Based purely on word of mouth, the place is legendary for serving up fresh, hearty, no fuss Italian food at a very reasonable price.

Compared to other Melbourne hotspots the Italian Waiters Club is relatively easy to find. Wander down Meyers Place, at the top of Bourke Street and keep your eye out for the dodgy doorway and rickety staircase.

The atmosphere is vibrant and noisy, while the décor is totally kitsch: 1970s wood panelling, tacky curtains, laminex tables, kitchen seats and cheap decorative prints. The menu, which hasn’t changed in all the time I’ve been going there, has no pricing and is proudly displayed on a chalkboard. Choice of drinks is easy: red, white, beer and soft drink. All served in re-purposed jam jars.

The menu is simple and reasonably authentic. Carbonara, cannelloni, Amatriciana, puttanesca etc. But my favourite dish, which I had on Saturday is a little less…Italian. Chicken Parmagiana with bolognese sauce. I think parmagiana is an Australian thing, isn’t it? Typically a pub style meal, it consists of a chicken schnitzel covered in melted cheese, Napoli sauce and sometimes ham. I’m not really sure why the ‘parma’ is a dish so heavily linked with Italian cuisine, but it is. The Italian Waiters Club put their own signature on the parma by adding bolognese sauce, which is gluttonous but oh so tasty.

Who cares if the vegetables were a little underdone, I couldn’t fit them in after that slab of chicken breast and mince anyway. The Italian Waiters Club is the perfect pit stop before the theatre or a movie. Most recommended for a cheap n cheerful meal.

Mmmm, Doritos......

2009-05-29T16:47:00.003+10:00

I know I'm being lazy with my posts lately. But meh, this is way more entertaining.

How many of you want one of these?

2009-05-27T10:05:00.002+10:00

Stumbled across this on Twitter and it made me giggle so much I just had to post it. Well, that's my Xmas shopping done for this year!

Warren Miller

2009-05-24T20:47:00.004+10:00

As the ski season approaches each year, the Warren Miller carnival comes town.

Mr Miller is an American documentary/filmmaker, who has produced, directed and narrated a new ski-focused film every year since 1950. Miller and his team travel the world filming professional snow bunnies and snow bums as they cruise slopes in all manner of high-altitude and dangerous places. The films are peppered with historical facts and interesting tidbits about the places featured in each film, but essentially it's about great cinematography, high energy soundtracks and crazy stunts.

Tonight we wandered down to one of Melbourne's more beautiful old-world cinemas, The Rivoli to see a screening of the 2009 Warren Miller film Children of Winter (corny title, much?).

Mr Miller is now in his eighties and has gradually been phased out of the production. The last few films have reused his narration from previous titles. But for Children of Winter the man himself has been replaced by Winter Olympics gold medalist Jonny Mosley.

It was a highly entertaining film, and succeeded in getting us excited about the impending season (if we're lucky enough to actually get snow during this drought!). There was some amazing footage from Iceland, where three guys spent time in a yacht on the country's brutal looking seas. They anchored where ever took their fancy, to climb and then ski down some incredibly rocky terrain that led straight into the icy ocean. I'd love to visit Iceland.

Other destinations featured in Children of Winter were Austria, Alaska, Aspen, and Japan. I love to snowboard, but you'll never catch me doing any of the things in the Children of Winter preview below....I could break a nail!

Wicked cold dinners by Angels and Demons

2009-05-18T17:53:00.003+10:00

Urgh! I've come down with a cold. I don't often catch them badly enough that I don't feel like moving, but this one's a shocker. I have a feeling I caught it on the plane last week traveling to Sydney. Breathing in all that recycled air dense with other people's germs.....eeeeewww!!!! Hold on, let me blow my nose.

So Andrew and I went to see the stage musical Wicked, with Cloudcontrol last Thursday. We had seats only ten rows from the front, which was awesome. I'm not one to sit around listening to musicals all day long (although, I've had a soft spot for The Rocky Horror Show since I was a child, but that's another story) but I do enjoy live musicals, and the theatre in general. I love the costumes and stage sets, the creativity the goes into bringing a story to the stage.

Wicked was great, lots of fun and very well done. The story was very cleverly entwined into the original Wizard of Oz film. I won't give too much away in case some of you haven't seen it yet, which I would recommend you do although I have to say that the stage show of Priscilla Queen of the Desert (which I wrote about here) was better, but only marginally. And despite claiming to be a Munchkin, I didn't recognise WCS climbing about the stage :)

On Saturday night Cloudcontrol, the Harbour Mistress and two other friends came over for a gigantic dinner-feast. Cloudcontrol, Debbie and I prepared two courses each - Oysters done two ways, pumpkin and coriander soup, scallops in a delicious Thai dressing, a Vietnamese chicken salad, lamb shanks and then my infamous white chocolate cheesecake. To finish off we had a plate of various cheeses (goats, blue, brie and cheddar). Needless to say that we could all barely move after consuming so much - and so varied - food. And wine. It was an exceptional meal though.

I woke up on Sunday with a head full of mucus and yukky stuff. Even so, I made it out to see Angels and Demons, which was better than the Davinci Code movie, but disappointing in comparison to the book. Still, it's nice to see a mindless Hollywood blockbuster every once in a while.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, which is where I'm about to go now.

Interstate

2009-05-13T20:30:00.004+10:00

Bright and early yesterday morning I hopped onto a plane and headed up to Sydney for a night. The main purpose of my visit was Australia's annual IT extravaganza CeBIT. I was up there for work, which is boring stuff no one really wants to hear about. The event was held at the Sydney Convention Centre:

Which is in Darling Harbour:

While in Sydney I caught up with Victor from Someone for Me. It's always fun meeting Bloggers and Twitterers and getting some insight into the people behind their online alter egos. What a surprise to find out that both Victor and I have parents from the Baltic states of Europe. More often than not the people I meet are unfamiliar with that part of the world. I drank beer, Victor drank lemon squash and together we gossiped about all you bloggers like a pair of old queens. Mwhahahahahahaha!

I was also lucky enough to have the time to visit the MCA with Cloudcontrol who was visiting Sydney from Melbourne as well. We saw an amazing retrospective exhibition of work by the 80 year old Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama. She's spent the last 60 years creating whimsical and mesmerising installations, paintings and scultptures that are childish, surreal and....... somewhat sexual. In particular she loves to play with mirrors and polkadots as per this photo of one of her her most well known works which I managed to snap on my phone :

There was another mirrored room that was filled with multi coloured fairy lights that created the effect of floating through space, or maybe travelling at lightspeed

I highly recommend going along to this free exhibition if you can, it's an experience you're unlikely to forget whether you're interested in contemporary art or not.

It's always nice coming home.

Visual Diary: Wednesday 6 May

2009-05-07T16:15:00.004+10:00

8am - My morning coffee. And the paper. And Dan Brown's Angels and Demons (shh don't tell anyone)

9am - Desk. Work.

10am - Procrastination. Out getting a take away coffee. Snapped this (appropriate) word on the side of clothing store

11am - Desk. Work (actually staring out the window)

12pm - it gets cold at my desk during winter!

1pm - Remember when we used to post letters?

2pm - Can you guess? Yep, Desk. Work. Well, iTunes actually.

3pm - looking up from desk.

4pm - work was quiet in the afternoon, so I snuck in some painting

5pm - My local tram stop. Do yourself a favour and don't EVER drink the coffee at the cafe/store behind that sign.

6pm - drinkzies at South American influenced Ruebebylons with @shandyweather and Emma (Burton's Aunt and Uncle)

7pm - on our way to dinner (Japanese); is nothing safe from Twilight?

8pm - more interestingly, dessert at Brunetti's where the creepy waiter with bad teeth kept talking to us and fondling my phone

9pm - Walking home from the tram stop, along the beachfront.

10pm - Winding down in front of the television. I know, I know, I shouldn't have my feet on the coffee table.

Park poop

2009-05-06T14:59:00.003+10:00

A few blocks away we have a rather nice park called Gasworks, which has an amateur theatre, a small gallery, a cafe and some artist studios on its grounds. It's a very well maintained space that's frequented by a huge collection of local dog owners allowing their pooches to escape our suburb's tiny, inner-city yards and run free. We used to take Burty there a lot, but sometimes there are so many dogs in the park that things get a little out of control so we gave it up. Also, we have a football/soccer oval at the end of our street which is much more convenient (read; we're lazy).

Anyway, I decided to take Burty up to Gasworks yesterday, just for something a little different. the weather was very pleasant and a number of the artists that inhabit the studios were in the park enjoying the sun while working on some sculptures. I hung around and watched them work for a while, and noticed this sign on the side of the studios

You might have to click on the image to enlarge it, so you can read the text. I thought it was cute and couldn't help snapping a picture of it. I'm tipping that the artists residing in the studios must have made it. And the gold high-heels, I remember the day Andrew trod in a wet turd while wearing those at gasworks park................

I mightn't be partial to pussies

2009-04-30T17:05:00.001+10:00

But cats totally crack me up!

Andrew's not a fan of cats, but I love them because they're so inquisitive and kooky. They get up to mischief as per the above. I grew up with them and in fact Burton is the first dog I've ever owned. To Burton's credit, when he is being babysat, he stays with friends Richard and Emma who have three cats and he gets along with them fine. Being a Labrador, he doesn't understand why they won't play with him. He likes to lick them. They don't like being licked.

Sunsets, snow and ugly clowns.

2009-04-29T15:08:00.005+10:00

The drastic change in weather that's happened in Melbourne over the last few days has brought about some fantastic sunsets. I snapped the above pic outside our house using my phone.

It's suddenly become so cold down here that half a metre of snow has fallen in the Victorian alps a full two months before the ski season officially opens. Mother Nature has definitely been a little kooky lately, but I won't complain because we might be in for a bumper snow season. And that means snowboarding with Andrew and friends, and afternoon Schofferhofer's at Pension Grimus. Huzzah!

Oh, and some random person started following on me on Twitter. This is their profile picture, WTF?

I decided not to follow them back.

Dear Agony Aunt

2009-04-24T15:05:00.002+10:00

Six months after the fact, I still have $100 worth of 'birthday money' left over. You know, from those relatives who can't be bothered making any effort gift-wise. The trouble is, I'm torn between spending it on something practical like new jeans and jumpers for Winter; or on something fun, like, continuing to expand my collection of Merzbow records.

Any advice would be most appreciated.

Yours sincerly,
Evol.

Evol Kween: The Vidcast!

2009-04-21T14:35:00.002+10:00

Easter and....Puska.

2009-04-15T13:30:00.005+10:00

I trust everyone had an enjoyable Easter break? . We spent Good Friday lounging around at home, getting odds and ends done, before I made a Seafood Paella for dinner. You're not supposed to eat meat on Good Friday, don't ya know. We left on Saturday morning to visit friends in Metung, and stayed there for the last three days of the Easter break. There's a vidcast about our trip coming soon.

In the meantime, I'd like to bring your attention to this:

This strange looking blob is probably my favourite dessert of all time. No, seriously. It's an Eastern European dessert that my mum (and prior to that my grandmother) makes only during Easter. We call it 'Puska', an unattractive name that doesn't come up in Google searches and is probably a Westernised version of a more traditional Latvian name for this awesome deliciousness. It's an Easter tradition passed down through my Dad's Latvian heritage. I'm sure plenty of other European cultures have a similar dessert in their repertoire.

The main ingredient is some weird Eastern European soft, sweet cheese that my mum drives all the way from St.Albans out to Dandenong for (which would be a 2 or more hour round trip). It gets mixed up with a lots of sugar, cream and lemon rind before being whisked into oblivion. The resulting goo is then wrapped in cheesecloth and squeezed into a terracotta pot and left to 'drain' for a few days.

My sister and I have been obsessed with Puska since we were kids (the bacon pies that make an appearance each Xmas are another favourite). Now Andrew's got a soft spot for it also. It's almost like eating an unbaked cheesecake, with out the base. Kind of. It's sweat, and creamy. Kind of like a frozen yogurt but no where near as tangy. It's very textured too.

I don't really know where I'm going with this post. However I'm definitely going to get me a slice of Puska right now.

Struggling to post at the moment

2009-04-10T16:22:00.004+10:00

However we're going down to Metung for the Easter weekend to pick grapes in the vineyard, drink, eat and be merry. I'm thinking about filming for a vidcast while I'm down there.

Hope you all have a relaxing Easter. Careful how much chocolate you eat, you don't want to end up like....

Hairy bits

2009-04-05T16:49:00.008+10:00

My last post got me thinking about the concept of manscaping. Personally, I think people who wax their chests, arms and stuff are a little weird (my apologies to any waxers out there reading this). Waxed arms particularly gross me out - all those open pores beaming out at me. Eeew! The jury's still out on back waxing, I mean if your back looks like this

then you might want to consider a good wax. Likewise, a trim might be in order if your bits look anything like this

because not everyone likes a stray curly between their teeth (can you believe that picture came up in a Google search for 'manscaping'?)

So there's a time and a place for manscaping as far as I'm concerned. I don't begrudge the guy I saw trimming his invisible shoulder hair for taking pride in his appearance. But really, he was obviously totally full of himself to be cutting the hedges in public, and that's what made me roll my eyes.

Trimming stray eyebrows, toe hair and especially nostril hair is all good in my book. As long as you don't take it to extremes, like so

Me? I don't have a huge amount of body hair, I'm only just capable of growing a pubic looking beard. The bane of my existence is....... random hairs sprouting out of the tip of my nose, a curse that's been passed down through the generations on my dad's side. But it's nothing a pair of tweezers can't fix.

Although I've recently noticed some bum-fluff sprouting out of my ears, a sure sign that at a mere thirty years of age, I'm getting old.

Narcissist

2009-04-02T15:37:00.002+11:00

So I'm walking the dog up our street towards the park late yesterday afternoon. It was quite a pleasant, sunny day. As I near the top of the street, I walk past this young-ish guy sitting in the driver's seat of a parked car. He has all the windows down, and he's bare chested. Very suntanned, expensive looking hair cut, fancy sunglasses and a body that suggests he spends his spare time at the gym. He didn't appear to have a single hair on his chest (waxed? Eeeew!). He was way too pretty and perfect for my tastes, but anyway, what do you think this Adonis was doing at the time?

He was completely oblivious to the world around him, and heavily focused on the tiny nail scissors he was using to trim invisible hairs from his shoulders.

Stupid metrosexual.

Decided I needed to get fit

2009-03-27T17:25:00.002+11:00

I'm the one with big hair and the pink headband. Which one are you?

Get to Gym Class, bitches

2009-03-25T19:41:00.004+11:00

I'd like to take a moment to encourage everyone to follow my lead and pick up an issue of the most awesome independently published magazine in the WORLD!

It's called Gym Class!

And I'm not just saying that it's the best magazine in the WORLD because I, me, moi has contributed not one, but two articles to the current issue. Although that should be more than enough reason for you. I say this because Gym Class is the baby of former Melbourne-based Blogger Steven, who now lives with his Hubby in London. the most awesomest (yes, awesomest) dude the world has ever created. For realz.

Gym Class is a mag for the 'guy chosen last' It's filled with nerdy but fascinating explorations of life's greatest mysteries such as typography, fashion, music and......stuff! It contains some seriously sexy design work too.

So go on, you know you want to. It's very affordable. Join the world of publishing for the people. Pick one up at the Gym Class site now.

Thankyou.

Home & A-gay

2009-03-20T17:14:00.003+11:00

Although he'd never admit it publicly, Andrew loves to watch Home & Away. Now you know. It's mindless crap that I'm not offended to watch by default.

For my international readers, Home & Away is one of Australia's longest running soap operas and has now clocked up 21 years on screen. It's set in a small, beach side town in New South Wales (a couple hours away from Sydney). It features a young, for the most part, cast of perfectly proportioned actors getting into typical soap opera mischief and gushing Australian colloquialisms like "Strewth!" and "Flamin' Hell!" and " Fair dinkum". Because that's how we speak in Australia, don't ya know.

Anywho, the latest scandal has been the sexuality of a new female character Joey (played by Esther Anderson), who recently 'came out'. A lesbian, no less. *shock!* *gasp!* *horror!*

Joey (right) and the object of her desire

The funny thing is, Joey works on a Fish Trawler, and it's been her life-long dream to own and run a Fish Trawler of her own. No seriously, the script writers ACTUALLY came up with this.

Andrew and I can't stop laughing about it. A teenage lesbian, with a lifelong dream to trawl for fish? Are the producers playing a joke on us all, or are they really blind to the irony in this situation?

Maybe Andrew and I just have warped senses of humour (which we do). It's funny, right?

Hot air and earthquakes

2009-03-18T18:08:00.004+11:00

You might remember a few weeks back I posted a photo of a hot air balloon dangling over the suburb I live in.

Well, this morning there was some hoo-haa after a couple of balloons had to make 'emergency' landings around the inner city, due to wind changes or something. I nicked this photo from The Age, Read about it here

In other news, Melbourne had its second earthquake in a fortnight. Earthquake? Yes. And I didn't feel either of them! The first one happened while we were down at Dromana for the long weekend. Today, I'd just returned from walking Burton up to the supermarket to grab some things for dinner, when Andrew called me all excited because he'd felt the earthquake. I should have felt it too, given we live and work in the same suburb, but I guess it was so minor that I didn't notice it while I was walking home. Bummer.

In other news, the infamous Count Grishnackh, he of one-man Black Metal band Burzum, has been released from jail after serving 16 years for the murder of former friend and rival scene member Øystein “Euronymous” Aarseth. He says that he's learned from his past mistakes, but I still think Norway should start locking their doors again.

Best of both worlds

2009-03-14T21:23:00.005+11:00

Like a true music nerd, I saw two live bands last week, one night after the other. Despite both being from the UK, the two acts in question couldn't be more diametrically opposed.

First up, Andrew and I both saw Coldplay at Rod Laver Arena (home of the Australian Open). Some of my more dedicated music-nerd friends turn their nose up at my interest in a mainstream, stadium 'rock' act such as Coldplay. But I don't have a problem with musicians who know how to write a good pop song. I might be the first person to hunt down weirdo, obscure music but sometimes I just want to hum along to a catchy melody.

This was the second time Andrew and I have seen Coldplay live, and yet again they didn't disappoint. The show was much more of a spectacle this time around; complex lighting, multiple stages, butterfly shaped confetti and theatrical image projections. However, even if you took those elements away, Coldplay can play well enough and interact with the audience to such a degree that their showmanship is the shining light.

Fantastic laser lighting

Singer Chris Martin puts 150% into the show, traveling the stage like a madman

They played two 'mini-sets' on tiny stages right in the heart of the audience. Which was way cool.

The visual projections

Butterfly shaped confetti rained down from the roof throughout their entire rendition of Lovers in Japan

The following night, some friends and I saw five pasty Glaswegians called Mogwai play at The Forum (they're a little too 'alternative' for Andrew!). Mogwai's instrumental and cinematic soundscapes, and the stripped back live show, were in total opposition to the sensory overload of Coldplay.

Mogwai are all about dynamics - at times their music was so quite you could have heard a coin drop amongst the crowd (although, testament to the power of this band's performance, no one spoke during these moments, instead we hold our breathe for the climax), before building to a deafening, chest rattling roar of three-guitar distortion and feedback. Their live show is the stuff of legend, and they didn't disappoint.

Meme goodness!

2009-03-11T17:18:00.003+11:00

I've been a lazy blogger of late (actually I've been busy, I promise!) so I must give thanks to the one and only Victor for providing some inspiration by tagging me in a meme. Yay! It's been ages since I've done one of these. Here goes:

1. Would you do crystal meth if it was legalized?

No. Have any of you seen Bug, or Requiem for a Dream? Also, I'd like to keep my teeth. Back in my uni days I dabbled in bits and pieces with the other kids, but crystal meth is taking things way too far. I'll stick to Pinot Noir, thank you.

2. Abortion: for or against?

Having known two women who have gone through this, I'd have to say that a woman should be allowed to make the choice that feels right for them, and not be judged for it.

3. Would the country fall if there was a woman president?

Hell no. As long as she was glamorous like Jackie O and not a dried up prune like Thatcher.

4. Do you believe in the death penalty?

No, I doubt it solves any major issues relating to crime.

5. Do you wish marijuana would be legalized already?

To make hemp, maybe. To smoke; not really, it's not great for a person's state of mind in the long run. Although alcohol is legal, and over-drinking isn't great for a person's health either. Go figure.

6. Do you believe in God?

It's easy to turn to 'god' when you're wishing for something. It's easy to blame things on 'god' too. Haven't really answered the question now have I?

7. Do you think same sex marriage should be legalized?

I do, and mainly as a means of gaining equal rights to heterosexuals in every respect. I had a straight women tell me at a dinner party recently that it didn't bother her if homosexuals wanted to get married, but she didn't think it was right to call it 'marriage' because that's a union between a man and a woman. I don't think she meant it offensively, but it pissed me off because it was a total case of 'I'm not homophobic/racist/sexist but.......'

8. Do you think its wrong that so many Hispanics are moving to the USA?

I live in Australia.

9. A 12 year old girl has a baby... should she keep it?

I can't come up with an easy answer to this one. But watching that 13 year British 'couple' who had child n the news recently, made me sad. I'm 30 and I reckon I'd struggle to raise a child properly!

10. Should the alcohol drinking age be lowered to 18?

Down here in Australia, the legal drinking age already is 18. I think the real question is how do we teach people to drink responsibly?

11. Should the war in Iraq be called off?

I'm not all that knowledgeable about politics, but in general I think that people dropping bombs on cities and shooting each other is fucked up and should be stopped. Somehow.

12. Assisted suicide is illegal... do you agree?

There's no easy answer to this. But I can understand that if you're terminally ill and in extreme discomfort, why WOULD you want to spend your last days/weeks alive feeling miserable?

13. Do you believe in spanking your children?

Christos Tsiolkas has just written a non-fiction novel based on this very topic. I think that done responsibly, the threat of a spank can be a way to teach children to consider the consequences of their actions. Besides, everyone likes some light S&M. Am I right?

14. Would you burn an American flag for a million dollars?

This makes me think about a recent episode of Ladettes to Ladies where one of the girls was allowed to go on a traditional English hunt. As she rode off on her horse with all the other Ladies and Dukes she unveiled a small - and I mean SMALL - Australian flag and let it flap proudly in the breeze. Well, the old bats teaching these ladettes to be ladies were FURIOUS about the disrespect she apparently showed England and the Monarchy. Even though the Australian flag has a Union Jack on it and the Queen Mother presides over our country....

Shit, did I just reveal that I watch Ladettes to Ladies? Only because Andrew loves it, really.

15. A mother is declared innocent after murdering her 5 children in a temporary insanity case... what do you think?

That there is way more to this story, which I would need to know before forming any opinions.

I'm not going to tag anyone to complete this meme, but if you feel like answering the questions, let me know so I can make sure I check them out!

Who else got the Victoria Police weather warning?

2009-03-03T11:38:00.004+11:00

For the last few days the media down here have been vigilantly discussing the 'extreme weather conditions' predicted for today (Tuesday). The weather bureau was predicting high temperatures and gale-force northerly winds akin to that of the 'Black Saturday' bushfires a few weeks back.

On my way out to meet Cloudcontrol for lunch yesterday I was amazed to see LED signage on most of the major roads warning people about the impending 'extreme weather conditions' and suggesting we tune into ABC 774 for updates.

After a lovely lunch, in the car on my way back to The Desk, I was flabbergasted to get a text message warning from Victoria Police:

"Extreme weather in Vic expected Mon night and Tues. High wind & fire risk. Listen to local ABC radio for emergency updates. Do not reply to this msg."

I felt weirded out by the combination of the signs and then the text message. I felt like the end of the world was coming, or aliens were about to descend upon the earth. Twitter was aflame with people discussing the text messages.

I read in the paper this morning that Vic Police sent out something like 3 million text messages? And that thousands of firefighters were on alert in areas still burning. A quote from some official read along the lines of "We are not crying wolf".

Funnily enough, it was raining lightly when I woke up this morning. The temperature is bearable and mild. It's nearly lunchtime now and the wind is picking up a little, but it doesn't feel 'gale force'.

Has the weather bureau gotten their prediction THAT wrong?

Kids at Midnight!

2009-03-01T13:55:00.005+11:00

So last night we saw our friend's band, Kids at Midnight pop their live show cherry. Yay! See the bald nugget on the left of this picture? That's Richie Rich!

They write and perform their own brand of uber-pop goodness and yall should have a listen on their MySpace page.

Shameless plug over. Next up: Gym Class magazine (of which yours truly is a contributor)!

Hot air

2009-02-26T13:34:00.002+11:00

We get a lot of hot air balloons floating around our neighborhood in the mornings. I snapped this photo on my way to get coffee today. I thought it was cool.

This street is parallel to the street we live on. They must take off from a park or sports field somewhere nearby. I think they stick to our area because we're so close to the city, and the skyline is what they're showing off. I could be wrong though. They get real low to the ground sometimes, which can be a little freaky.

My dislike of heights means you'll never find me dangling from a balloon in a basket. Not even if there's champagne involved.

My Bloody Disapointment

2009-02-23T13:20:00.003+11:00

Like a true horror movie nerd I trekked off to my local megaplex-cinema this weekend to see the remake of My Bloody Valentine, in glorious 3D. This weekend was the only chance to see the film in 3D, and I couldn't resist.

Dear lord, it was.....terrible.

The 3D was cool, lots of pick axes flying off the screen etc etc, although I left the cinema with a slight headache. It was the godawful acting, disjointed plot and terrible, I repeat TERRIBLE dialogue that made this film a complete disappointment. For me anyways.

I wasn't expecting this to be a great film or anything, I'm totally aware of the schlock value inherent to the horror genre. But given the popularity of the original film (which I wrote about here) you would think that those involved in the remake would have wanted to do a much better job than they did.

It's almost as if the writers decided not to put any effort into the script because they felt the 3D would be enough to keep viewers satisfied. WRONG!! This isn't the 1970's people, audiences are much more savvy. Repeat after me: PLOT AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IS CRITICAL TO ANY MOVIE.

As an example, at the beginning of the movie we find out that the town's Sheriff is having an affair with the local checkout chick. After their steamy session the girl announces that she's pregnant with his baby (she laughs as she tells him.......). We hear nothing, NOTHING about this throughout the rest of the movie. Nothing. Nada. Sure, his wife finds out about the affair and the checkout chick comes to a messy end in a back alley, but not once do we find out anything about how the Sheriff feels about his predicament. Not even when the girl is murdered. Buh!!!

I wouldn't recommend this film to anyone. I can't even imagine how boring it would be to see My Bloody Valentine without the 3D. There's really nothing more I can say.

*Steps off his film critic pedestal*

Evol bought a new toy!

2009-02-20T10:20:00.004+11:00

Relax, it's not real. Although apparently it has been moulded from a human skull. I've been hunting around for a skull for months (both online and around Melbourne), and last week a I stumbled upon this awesome shop Wunderkammer on Londsdale street, next door to the office of a prospective client. I'd heard of the store but never been there. It's filled with so many unusual artifacts, very Victorian.

Before you jump to conclusions about me being a complete weirdo, I've wanted a skull so that I can set up some still lifes to paint. I'm interested in a style of painting from the 1600's known as 'Veritas' which basically explored the transience of....things. So I want to make some modernised versions of paintings like this:

Claesz Pieter

Jan Van Kessel I

I like the gothic/romantic nature of these pictures. Although I'd like to make mine a little more humorous and have grapes spilling out of the skull like brains, for example. We'll see how it goes. The whole shtick fits in with my current obsession with the camp nature of the Black Metal subculture. As seen here.

Discuss.

Visual diary: Saturday 14 February 2009

2009-02-16T14:26:00.007+11:00

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Stand clear! Nerd alert!

2009-02-12T11:55:00.003+11:00

On a lighter note, I am in love with the packaging for Thom Yorke's The Eraser Rmxs album, which I picked up earlier this week. Generally not one to invest in remix albums, I just HAD to have this because the black and gold-foil, fold-out packaging is beautiful. I couldn't find the album at any of the discount stores so I had to pay full price at (rip-off) Polyester Records. Now that's dedicated.

The imagery on the packaging is actually the same as that from the original album, and was done by Stanley Donwood, responsible for all of Radiohead's visual design since the mid nineties. The original album design was black and white though. Believe it or not, Donwood produced the imagery for these Thom Yorke solo albums using hand-made Lino cuts, rather than computers. The detail is astonishing.

Perhaps this a good time to let interested parties know that I've started a second blog (over at Wordpress, boo-hiss!) called Evol Kween: The Musical. Basically I wanted a place where I could soley bang-on about music-nerd related stuff, which doesn't always fit in with my day-to-day ramblings here.

If you're so inclined, check it out. I've just recently had a chat about The Eraser Rmxs.

www.evolkweenthemusical.wordpress.com

Victoria's burning

2009-02-09T19:31:00.005+11:00

As the greater parts of Victoria were engulfed in flames on Saturday evening, we were watching a musical at Chapel off Chapel. We'd heard reports of bush fires throughout the day, but that was kinda' expected given that the temperature had reached a whopping 46.4 degrees. There are bush fires every summer, this didn't seem any different. In the taxi on our way to meet JW before the play, we listened to startled residents on the radio talking about fires behind their houses. We thought that sounded strange but....

The musical was called Zanna, Don't! a camp tale about high school relationships in a world where being queer is the norm, and being straight is, well, weird. It was a fun, energetic, sugary sweet performance. I'd highly recommend seeing it. Apparently Zanna, Don't! was some sort of underground hit off Broadway in the US.

We went out for a few drinks afterward, and didn't get home until quite late. I'd noticed a few Twitter updates late in the evening about the severity of the bush fires, but didn't realise the enormity of the whole thing until the morning. It's so weird to think we were out drinking, laughing and being merry while people were being burnt alive in their cars and homes trying to escape these fires.

In fact the parents of a local Twitter peep, jackshigh nearly lost their house. She blogged about it here. It's amazing how many people on Twitter are being affected by the fires in some way, such as josharp and andrewsayer

These have officially been the worst Victorian (Australian?) fires since Ash Wednesday in 1983. Entire towns wiped out, including many that we drive through on our way to Mt Buller each Winter. Almost 130 confirmed dead so far and the rescue teams haven't even been able to reach many of the damaged areas yet. It's being said that arson had a hand in this tragedy.

My godparents lost their house in the Ash Wednesday fires all those years ago. I was only five at the time but seeing all these images of burnt out houses and blackened scrub reminds me of visiting their burnt out property on Mt Macedon just after the 1983 fires. I have a vague memory of there being nothing left but the chimney, and watching my parents and godparents sift through the rubble collecting random pieces of crockery and melted cutlery a la Salvador Dali. My godfather died of cancer not long after that. I can't imagine the memories my godmother must be reliving right now.

I don't know if it's just me, but the vibe around Melbourne was very subdued today. I think we're all struggling to process the fact that while Victoria and parts of New South Wales are blazing, parts of Queensland are basically under water right now while experiencing torrential rain. What's up, mother nature?

Lunch in the Vines

2009-02-05T14:18:00.002+11:00

Evol Kween: The Vidcast, Episode 6

Disco Burton!!

2009-02-01T19:57:00.002+11:00

So we were at Richard and Emma's last night, BBQing it up for Richard's Dad who's visiting Australia from the UK for the first time.

As usual Burton was the centre of attention. Richard said he'd never talk to me again if I didn't post this photo and tell everyone what gracious hosts he and his wife were last night, and also how awesome they are.

So there, Rich!

PS Burty's eyes weren't Photo-shopped in.

Sitting in a puddle of my own sweat

2009-01-30T11:58:00.002+11:00

So it's been 43 degrees in Melbourne for the last three days, and for a few days before that the temperature was in the low 30s. Apparently the south east coast of Australia is experiencing its worst heatwave in recorded history.

We had a roast chicken for dinner on Sunday night. It's now Friday and the carcass has been baking in our rubbish bin. Add in the bits of Burton's poop collected on his walks (you can get fined by the local council if you're caught not picking up your dog's poop), and the driveway, where we keep the bins, smells like a graveyard. Thankfully today is rubbish collection day.

Yesterday morning, some 36 year old guy stopped his car right on the peak of the Westgate Bridge and threw his four year old daughter into the water 58 metres below. He THREW her off the bridge? WTF!? And his other two children were in the car watching. There was no hope of the girl surviving. The Westgate is walking distance from my house. This is crazy. It's like something out of a movie, you know, where people go bonkers during a heatwave, snowstorm or other major environmental event and do something totally irrational. So far they don't know why he did it.

Our local beach, and the Westgate Bridge

We live two blocks away from the beach. Just near Station Pier. Right now the beach is busier than I've ever seen it. Even as it draws close to midnight there are still cars coming and going, people wandering around. I'm struggling to find a spot for my car outside the house. Meanwhile, we don't even use the beach, which is crazy, huh?

The English guy who moved in next door last year, told me yesterday that he loves the heat. He'd just returned from the beach. I could've slapped him. He's only been in Australia two years. He'll get over it when he forgets how cold it is back in the UK.

I didn't know what to think when the weather report this morning showed that it's currently hotter in Melbourne than central Australia. It's hotter in the city than the fucking desert!!!

Everything's a little surreal at the moment. I'm feeling deflated and lethargic after so many hot days in a row. Those sweaty, restless nights' sleep aren't doing me good. It doesn't really help that our air conditioning doesn't work well upstairs in the bedroom. Aircon or not, everything heats up after a few days of weather this warm. Last night we could feel the heat coming off our bedroom wall as we tried to sleep. They're saying that it's going to cool down next week.......cool down to 35 degrees that is.

I shouldn't complain; during winter there's not enough sun and when summer arrives it's too hot. Besides, those poor bastards in Adelaide have had 43 degree days for the last week or so. They're suffering much more.

I was a Teenage Dirty Old Man

2009-01-26T14:03:00.003+11:00

Andrew, the Harbour Mistress and I caught a play last night, that's running as part of the Midsumma festival. For out of town readers, Midsumma is Melbourne's annual month long festival of 'queer' related arts and cultural activities, which culminates in a Pride March through St. Kilda.

I stumbled across a small blurb in The Age for a performance titled I was a Teenage Dirty Old Man. It was described as a humorous, one-man musical by visual artist Eric Kuhlmann, which explored his life growing up in small-town Australia as not only gay, but also suffering from mental illness.

I thought it sounded interesting, and the venue is a short walk from where we live so I bought some tickets. I was expecting a guy with an acoustic guitar or a perhaps a keyboard playing some quirky, pop-ish songs. The blurb in The Age ha warned that the language was a bit graphic, and I was also ready for something a little amateurish.

The 200 seat (approx) theatre had barely 15 audience members, and from the moment Eric sang his first line, to a godawful backing tape, I thought to myself, "What have I gotten Andrew and the Harbour Mistress into? They're going to kill me." Eric could not sing a note. And when he played the guitar, he did so with little skill. He was visibly shaking during the entire 45 minute performance which I put down to nerves, but Andrew and the Harbour Mistress thought might be a side effect of any medication he might be on.

The 14 songs loosely followed Eric through his time wagging school young teenager and haunting beats where he would meet men twice if not thrice his age; to his breakdown as a young man when he was picked up by the police while running naked down a country road , to his time in hospital dulled out on Lithium. It was depressing stuff which he tried sincerely to douse with humour, but ultimately his lack of skills as a performer meant the audience was unsure if it was OK to laugh. He'd give short monologues between songs that sounded as if he was reciting directly from a script.

The content of of the play was brutally honest and heartfelt, and in the hands of a much more confident (experienced?) performer it probably wouldn't have mattered that he couldn't sing or play his instrument properly. Instead we were caught between feeling serious compassion for this guy pouring his heart out, and being kept at bay by his complete lack of stage presence.

Perhaps the experience would have been different if we hadn't been in a basically empty theatre?

As much as my heart goes out to this guy, I wouldn't recommend seeing his show.

Slumdog Millionaire

2009-01-24T20:49:00.004+11:00

After seeing this film a few weeks ago I've slowly started to feel like a leper. You see, it seems the vast majority are totally in love with Slumdog Millionaire, and now it's been nominated for 10 Oscars. Meanwhile I'm feeling a little, well....meh...about it.

Warning! Plot spoiler!

Don't get me wrong, I kind of enjoyed it. The cinematography was beautiful and the performances were fantastic. In fact I was excited by the film and its exploration of a foreign culture, until the last 15 minutes or so that is.

I was really disappointed in the way Slumdog Millionaire wrapped itself up into a neat little package with a bow. I felt ripped off actually. I felt let down that I'd sat through the entire film just so the lead character could win the million AND get the girl, while his brother had himself killed in a bathtub full of cash. Don't get me started on the pointlessness of the brother dying that way.

I've enjoyed Director Danny Boyle's other movies (with the exception of The Beach), so I was really keen to see Slumdong Millionaire. And I'd waited a while for it to hit the screens because I'd been reading a lot about M.I.A's involvement in the soundtrack. And perhaps my anticipation was the problem - I wasn't expecting Boyle to end the film in such a Hollywood fashion. I know that in some sense Boyle was keeping in the spirit of the Bollywood movies, but I'm still disappointed.

So every one's talking about this film, I keep getting asked how much I loved it. And when I reply that the ending churned my stomach like a volatile curry, people look at me weird and then exclude me from any further discussion, preferring to giggle and squeal about the film with whoever else we're talking to.

It was the same when Lost in Translation came out. I found that film quite boring and un-funny. I didn't get it. People persecuted me for that!

I'm not saying Slumdog Millionaire is the worst movie ever, I wouldn't say don't watch it. But TEN Oscar nominations? really? REALLY?

Sigh.

I must just be weird.

I dreamed a dream of Obama.

2009-01-21T21:35:00.004+11:00

So Obama is officially the president of the USA. Bush is gone. Howard is gone (though I'm not sure Rudd is doing much better, really). And we're all free, right?

Anywho. Andrew turned on the TV in our bedroom early this morning to watch some of the inauguration. Me, I'm not a morning person. It takes me forever to ascend from my slumber. Andrew, he's wake instantly. It's annoying. But that's another story.

While he's watching Obama give his speech, I'm wanting to pay attention but actually dozing. I had this ca-razy semi-awake dream. I was on an ice hockey rink, along with thousands of other people and Obama was giving his speech from behind the goal/nets at one end. There was a set of elevator doors behind him. He was dressed in full ice hockey goal-keeper gear, except he was wearing roller blades. Rollerblades? I don't know how he was able to stand upright on the ice.

He gave a really heartfelt speech, and when he finished everyone started cheering madly as he began to ski (yes, he was on skis now) away. The rink had turned into a snow field and Obama's on the super long 1970's era skis. Someone nearly took him out as they precariously ski'd past him, and they nearly jumped out of their skin when they realised they'd almost mowed down the president of the USA.

I think the speech he gave in my dream was the one that he was giving live on TV while I was dozing. And he was in an ice rink/snowfield because the Good Morning America presenters were interviewing the crowd about how cold it was over there.

Sheez, the brain is a sponge, isn't it?

Visual Diary: Saturday 17th January 2009

2009-01-18T13:49:00.006+11:00

9am