jodiecoyote

Icehouse In Concert In the Riff

2011-10-03T01:28:00.000-07:00

Every time I drive to Penrith I remember that it is an awfully long way away from the city. In fact and I don't mean any disrespect, but, What on earth is there out in the "riff" that would warrant some musical greats to venture out that far? In any case it was the only venue I could see them play apart from some, ahem, "Ute Muster" that the famed Icehouse were to perform. Of course they are due to do some shows with Hall and Oats but I didn't want to wait that long to see my Australian musical hero, Iva, strut his stuff Penrith style!

I knew Icehouse would not disappoint and it was apparent from the very beginning that the band were as tight as ever. Every detail of the sound and lighting and audio visual show had been timed to within an inch of its life. It is so refreshing to see a band take such pride in producing and delivering a quality show that every instrument is balanced and the sound guys appeared to be completely into every note that they mixed to perfection.

Now you might be thinking that being such a big fan that of course I would say something as predictable as "Oh they were so brilliant blah blah blah" but the fact is that I have been to see many a major musical genius in the past and come away wondering what on earth I was thinking some of these highlights include;

Public Enemy, who were crap, walked out half way; George Clinton, so bad I demanded my money back and oh yes who could forget ye olde Barry White who took about an hour off my life which I can never get back. Oh oh and I almost forgot to mention REM where I got the tickets for free through industry friends and fronted up to a completely blacked out Sydney Entertainment Centre except for the floor seating. You don't have to guess how shit that evening was. Stipey needed a Bex and a lie down let me assure you. Actually the truth is by the end of the night I considered taking up a crack habit. So yes Icehouse were fucking brilliant no doubt about it.

So after Iva played all the classics and then some he played "Don't Believe Anymore". The fact is that I honestly felt like I had borne wings at that moment and was floating on the roof. It was superb. The song is pure genius and I have probably listened to it about forty million times and I doubt I will ever grow tired of it or its sentiment. Of course when I asked Iva about it a few years ago he said that he didn't think it was anywhere near as melancholic as he had obviously felt at the time of writing it. Oh yes Iva it is melancholic personified times a thousand. So a long drive to the Riff was worth it and I look forward to seeing Iva again very very soon.

Passengers

2011-08-10T18:46:00.000-07:00

"If you want be a passenger

Climb aboard with me we're leaving now

Step outside and see another world

Only if you want to be a passenger"

Lyrics to Passenger by Powderfinger.

In the course of my life I have picked up an awful lot of passengers. Some have stayed in the car, some have got out half way through the journey, some ran off and didn't pay for petrol and some jumped out whilst the vehicle was still in motion. Of course there were also some who were outright hitchhikers that I should have left by the side of the road in a plume of dust.

I am amazed at how many people you meet in a lifetime. They are passengers and some stay with you and some either jump, push, run or walk themselves out of your life. I am fortunate as most of the people who come along for the ride don't get out of the car and its a brilliant journey with them in the passenger seat. Though those who grab hold of the wheel and push you into oncoming traffic are more often than not the ones that are a car crash waiting to happen.

Recently I have been reminded of some of the hitchhikers I have picked up and the lessons they have subsequently imparted upon me for being naive enough to stop and let them ride for free. Interestingly I seem to stop less often for hitchhikers these days. Maybe the car is full? or maybe I have learned that it is only wise to pick up full fare paying passengers who have no destination.

Have We Learned Nothing

2011-08-04T02:21:00.000-07:00

I was saddened to hear of the recent death of David Ngoombujarra. I feel this way as we have come so far but have learned so little as a society. Australian history is a topic that is only now being served up to a relatively clueless Australian society. Most Australians are unaware of the past and it is largely because as I have determined from a great deal of study that Australia has largely been embarrassed by its convict heritage. We have been embarrassed by the dissemination of the initial inhabitants of the land and the disastrous ways in which previous governments have dealt with the correct way to provide Australian history to the masses in order for them to feel proud of their heritage and learn from our mistakes in order to help the country and her people in the future.

So yet again another black male has been wronged by our society. A society that has failed to look at the past in order to rectify and assist the future. A society that is too busy to stop and take stock and a society which should only look inward to assess where it went so horribly wrong.

Woollarawarre Bennelong was a senior man of the Eora, an aboriginal who lived in the Port Jackson area at the time of the arrival of the British First Fleet. Arthur Phillip who was the governor of the colony ordered that Bennelong be brought to him to establish relationships with the indiginous populations. The fact is that Bennelong was kidnapped by Phillip who held him against his will for a period of six months, after which Bennelong escaped.

A few months after his escape Bennelong made contact with Phillip and requested that Phillip meet him at Manly for a meeting. During this meeting another aboriginal man threw a spear at Phillip hitting him in the shoulder and wounding him. Perhaps it was retribution for holding Bennelong against his will but suffice to say that Phillip had the good sense to leave well alone and accept that the ways of the indigenous population should be left to their own devices, for the time being anyway. I assume at the time that a dirty big fucken spear through Phillips shoulder made him see their point of view quite clearly.

In 1792 Bennelong travelled to England. The details of his trip are not particularly clear but it was said he was sent in order to meet King George III. Upon Bennelongs return to Sydney Cove in 1795 his health was declining and he was suffering from the effects of alcoholism. He was drinking to excess and nobody thought to stop him. They just provided more and did nothing.

On January 13th 1813 Bennelong succumbed to the disease and died at Kissing Point in Putney.

My point in telling you this story is the place in which Bennelong died and was subsequently buried. The estate of James Squire.

James Squire was a convict transported to Australia for stealing. His claim to fame is he founded Australia's first commercial brewery. If you desire you can still drink in James Squire's name the beers brewed are a special testament to our history and James Squires legacy.

So it was on Sunday July 17th 2011 at 2:40pm some 198 years since the death of Bennelong that Australia loses another of its sons. Why does this continue to happen. Because we allow it to.

Take Your Passion, And Make It Happen!

2011-07-15T20:51:00.000-07:00

Winter usually conjures up visions of warm fires, comfort food and layers of clothing but for me it also conjures up "Flash dance"! Yes at certain times during winter I am reminded of a great childhood night out. It was a Friday! - It was Winter! - And it was Great!.

My friend at school during this time was Irene and she was from a strict Italian family. She lived in the classic big "wog" house which was not far from my place and I thought she lived in a right royal mansion. Of course I was of the firm believe that her father must have been involved in the Mafia! How else could they afford such riches because as far as I was concerned at the age of about 8 or so they were rich beyond my wildest dreams. They had a two story freaking house they MUST have been rich!

Of course this was due to my childish observations as I lived in a two bedroom fibro home that you could barely swing a cat in. The back yard was five times the size of the actual dwelling. There was lice in the roof and holes in the floor where the walls would not meet - therefore exposing - well - the soil underneath the house! It was paradise! The fact that we lived only a few streets away did not deter my believe that they were in fact the richest people in the neighbourhood or in fact the entire world.

I was not jealous of their riches I was resided to being systemically poor for life and I loved going into their home. It was completely different to mine. The floors were tiled and the house was always immaculate although we shared that in common as my house was like a hospital theatre. Irene's home smelt different to mine, it felt different to mine and the cultural activities that took place at her home made me feel like I had stepped off Earth and into another planet. Though these are where the differences ended.

The things I do know we shared was the fact that we didn't fit in. She was different because of her cultural background and I was different for reasons that I still can not explain. Even when pressed in a lecture full of teenagers waiting for my big response on the matter. ("Wear it Purple" lecture circa 2011) I now feel that we also shared a common but unspoken of bond which was the pain in our lives during that time. This was due to factors outside of our control as children.

My family life was tearing apart. Nobody discussed divorce in those days, it simply wasn't spoke of and it certainly was not discussed with children. This was because of course as we all know it wasn't about the children! It was about the parents. Their loss, their pain, their sorrow. (Incidentally as this is in written format let me assure you I am being sarcastic. Divorce with children IS in fact all about the children. At least in perfect world it would be about their welfare but it rarely is)

Irene on the other hand, and it is only now as I grow older, and emotionally wiser, that I remember that she may have been a late baby for her parents. Her brother and sister were much older than her so she was kind of brought up like an only child, the baby of the family. However I don't believe this was a problem for her. What I know is that her brother was killed in a car accident. I remember it very clearly but as a child I did not have the emotional maturity to know how to deal with this sort of thing, what child does.

I remember feeling awkward around her mother in particular. Perhaps because I felt so sad about what had happened I could feel she was terribly devastated and I felt by being around at Irene's house I was just a hindrance and in the way at a time for many years they just wanted to be left alone. The fact that I could not speak Italian and I was an alien in many ways didn't help convince me that having another child under toe was a wonderful diversion for her family.

Of course now that I am a fully paid up member of the adult club I realise that they probably didn't think anything like that. No doubt as hard working people they were simply trying to get through their lives as best they could under such terrible circumstances as losing a vibrant young man, their son.

Irene and I would walk home from school each day together the distance not being particularly far but it took us all afternoon. We talked and talked and talked in fact I think I collectively spoke more words to Irene in those early years than I spoke to any other person in my life at the time. How I wish I could go back in time and walk behind those two young girls, chitter chattering away. I am sure I would be shocked and stunned, in fact I know so. We were both mature for our age but under the circumstances we had to be. And it was this among other traits that drew me close to Irene. She like me had to prepare the house each evening as our mother's worked. We were responsible for starting dinner preparations, cleaning the house and getting our homework completed. We also spent the rest of the afternoon that we had left talking on the telephone to each other.

I remember how much we both loved food. I loved going to her home because the food was so different to what my mother prepared. I loved going into her father's cellar and looking at all the bottled goodies that they had stored up. I loved wondering around in her garden and feeding the chooks. I especially loved when we convinced our parents that we needed to complete some homework together on a Friday night and we could steal away as much chocolate and salt and vinegar chips as we could eat and gobble them up without having as much as drawn a border on our project cardboard. It was great.

I remember when she went to Italy and the excitement of receiving a post card from - Abroad! I fondly kept an ashtray she brought back for me from San Remo and when I actually went to San Remo as an adult I thought I had made it as far as the ash tray had come. Wow!

Though my fondet memory will always be when her sister on one freezing cold winter's night took us to see Flashdance at the movies. A really big treat. I remember feeling very grown up with my hand bag and friend on a big night out. We possibly were home by 6pm as it was day light saving and the sun had gone down early but I am hoping it was later, perhaps 9pm? I remember the movie theatre being packed out and the subject matter that we were seeing was as mature as we clearly thought we were able to cope with. The one part of that night out which was a lucky escape was the fact that neither of us had grandiose dreams of being instant dancers. In fact I don't even think we talked about that aspect of it, phew! I would have been washed up as a dancer about a year later when they worked out that ahem I could not in fact dance. Okay, okay a week later!

It was simply brilliant, the movie, the friendship and the great childhood memories.

By the time we went to high school we remained friends but we went in different directions.

It was a normal and natural part of growing up.

So in the dead of winter I often crack open a packet of salt and vinegar chips and snuggle up to watch Flashdance and remember my friend - Irene -Who I hope took all her passions and made them happen.

The Tyranny Of Time

2011-07-02T04:02:00.000-07:00

Coyote txt msg to Jodie: I'm here, can't wait to see you!

Jodie txt msg to Coyote: Me too! See you soon miss. I'm coming from town hall on train.

Coyote txt msg to Jodie: Hurry!

Jodie txt msg to Coyote: I'm walking to Enmore Theatre, This is like a bloody first date!

And so it was that Jodie + Jodie = healed.

I never thought this day would come that I could actually say that I have finally healed a part of my past that I never thought I would, but I have. After posting my blog regarding my school friend Jodie we got in contact. We organised a night out and a rather big catch up. We starting talking at 6pm and did not stop until 3am and I have no doubt if we could have physically kept talking we would have.

It was like no time had come between us but it was glaringly obvious that it had. We are older and wiser and as I said on the night our sixteen year old selves would have been very pissed off that we no longer swing from the chandeliers. As we sat talking it was as though we were the only two people in the pub and eventually we were. The whole world stopped around us and we transported back to our old selves. Laugh, laugh and laugh some more the chortling must have been deafening for anyone seated around us but it was like our parents had gone out for the night and we transported back into the naughty little school girls that we once were.

I always knew that we would have lived one degree of separation away from each other all these years and we certainly did. Though I am left with little doubt that the wires that we crossed and the doors that closed in around us and our friendship were all due to one merciless and basic young and inexperienced fact. Emotional naivety.

So at one point we both had to go to the bathroom. As we stood dolling ourselves up about to depart the bathroom Jodie said "Wouldn't it be a blast if we opened up the door to the bathroom and we stepped back in time, transported back straight into a school dance.

In a way I truly wished that it had happened because there are two things I would have done;

1. Pashed Peter Kapusi on the dance floor.

2. Told Jodie that her friendship will always hold a very special place in my heart and even though we will be subject to the tyranny of time in our future eventually time will mean little and we will be friends for life.

The above is not necessarily in order of how I would execute them in my portal back in time but I can tell you I would not leave without doing both. So all there is left now is to play you a song.

A Cracker Of A Time If You Don't Mind Losing An Eye

2011-06-16T02:46:00.000-07:00

The weekend just passed in Sydney Australia my homeland was what is commonly referred to as "The Queens Birthday Long Weekend". Not unlike all Australian traditions it is strange that we take a holiday for a monarch we no longer seem to have a lot of reverence for. It is even more ironic since her birthday is actually in May and not June. Still a birthday is a birthday and it gives everyone a chance to take Monday off work at the tax payers expense so nobody complains, not even her majesty.

Unfortunately like most things in life a vast amount of strange traditions have disappeared in the wake of the remotest possibility that someone might in fact loose ones eye or perhaps even a limb. Therefore allowing the tradition of the general public to let off fireworks at home in their backyard during the Queens Birthday Long Weekend has now sadly evaporated. Well actually it was made illegal. The memories of those "Cracker Nights" exists now in the dark recesses of older people's minds and in some it may now be a permanent reminder every time they look at a fingerless hand or an open eye socket.

You see "Cracker Night" was a time during generation X's childhood that comes with mixed emotions. Here is a little of how it went for those readers who are uninitiated into the world of letting young children loose with gun powder, matches and poorly made home explosives.

For many weeks before "Cracker Night" children throughout the land would save every cent they could get their hands on, prior to blowing their fingers off, in order to purchase fireworks. Once money had been saved the child could then take themselves off to their corner shop or newsagent and procure a complete array of fireworks. These fireworks were generally kept by families in a large cardboard box (in the case of my household) and it was with great pride that the box would be filled up to the brim prior to the big night. I know all you Gen Y's are thinking "Didn't you need a license". The answer is no, you could be a primary school kid and purchase a highly dangerous one light of a match and your head will explode off your shoulders firework. So Gen Y shove that in your boring little cake holes and light it.

To give you an example of the types of fireworks we had access to here is a brief description of some of the more "popular" and well known varieties.

There were "Throwdowns" - (little packets of gunpowder wrapped in paper and when thrown against a hard surface or at the back of someones head would explode with a loud, pop). No lighting required hence they made a great gift for the under five year old set who could pop away as long as they had their slippers on.

The 10 ball "Shooter" - (a long stick that was lit via a fuse, after much preparation of the surrounding lawn where a hole had to be dug in order to stick the stick. Smart people did this during day light hours but dumb fucks - practically everyone else - did it just prior to lighting it then running really really fast in order to get out of the way) Then the family would stand in delight and count down the balls being shot into the air - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,......Hang on........9..............................................."Fuck the last one didn't go off"............................................. "Its a dud, its a dud".........................."Hey someone go and check it and see if the fuse is still lit"................... Then of course some goose would approach just as the last ball shot into their face and blew their eye out. End of Cracker night and a long wait at casualty with all the other ball shooter victims.

The "Catherine Wheel" a firework that consisted of a gun powdered filled spiral tube, or even better an angled rocket mounted (generally in the dark with a rusty nail to a rickety old wooden fence) with a pin in the centre. Or to break it down for Gen Y it was a round disc not unlike a CD that you nailed to the back fence, lit the wick and run like all fuck. This was because they always popped off the fence and chased the entire family through the back yard as it spun wildly out of control. It is interesting to note that the Catherine Wheel firework is in fact named after a instrument of torture "the breaking wheel" of which, legend has it that St Catherine was martyred. I can only speak of my experience that having a CD that is shooting sparks in every direction and approaching you at the speed of sound is nothing short of fuck off scary.

But I leave the best till last, the most exciting and generally the firework that was left at the bottom of the box so as to cap off an evening of potential skin grafts, eye losses and third degree burns oh not to mention the roof of your house catching alight, the Catherine wheel burning down all the clothes left on the line and the $2000 + vet bill after someone forgot to put the dog inside the house. Yes this was the one that had the potential to make you get out of bed the next morning and jump for joy, that is if you still had skin on the bottom of your feet and run the streets looking just looking for the...........

"Parachute" firework. Yes ladies and gents this was a stick that again you stuck in the hole in the ground and lit the fuse and run like hell. Only this time it was one or two balls, or so it seemed that would shoot up into the air. Then just like magic a little parachute would emerge, glowing like a lantern in the night sky, along with the neighbours roof alight after it caught on fire from the ball shooter. But I digress, yes the parachute it would gently waft down, down, down, down to whence you could not be sure. Could it have landed on your property, could it have landed up the road, who could tell in the pitch black but in the morning you could wake to the surprise of. "Oh yes yes yes holy fuck I found a parachute in our tree". It was the icing or the plastic skin on a third degree burn delight. The said item of the parachute could then be displayed by the owner as a badge of honour. I found the fucken parachute. Wooopie.

So there you have it, aren't you just disappointed if you are Gen Y that you were not old enough to sport a pirate eye patch in your later years. Poor pets. Of course there were some people who not only let off crackers but who spent months and months collecting wood and making a giant fuck off bonfire ta boot. Of course these were usually rich fuckers that I didn't know so I can't comment on whether it was as much fun as watching your neighbour put out a fire on his shed roof with a garden hose.

So yes "Cracker Night" ahhhhh it used to be the most environmentally unfriendly night of my life and you know I loved every moment of every carbon emission glee. So here's to you "Cracker Night' and to the wonder of holding a firework in your hand whilst you light it and run for your dear life, and of course limb.

The Next Chapter - Jodie + Jodie = "We Ain't Never Gonna Be Respectable"

2011-06-04T04:10:00.000-07:00

Jodie and I are in contact. Yes it is almost like a scene from an un aired Oprah episode. We will be reuniting on Saturday 18th June. So stop hassling me I will post pictures, stories, tears and tiaras. In the meantime readers I expect you to learn every single move and "Get Fresh at the Weekend" especially Saturday 18th June.........

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ll73OafWYE

Jodie + Jodie = Jodie

2011-05-28T03:46:00.000-07:00

In a never ending universal conundrum it turns out that my name is Jodie. Surprising huh! I had a best friend at school called Jodie, I worked with a girl called Jodie, and I used to go to a restaurant on the other side of the planet with a girl called Jodie. And to bring it all back to date I have now ended up with a woman I now consider my sister who is strangely called Jodie. It’s enough to make you want to change your name or at least add an H to it.

So it seems that I never knew what happened to my school friend Jodie. I was recently asked if I could find one person from my past who would it be and in all consideration it would always be a resounding – Jodie. The answer is often met with a raised eyebrow whilst consideration is given to the fact that I am referring to myself in the third person and they leave my answer to contemplate the fact that I would like to meet myself in the past. Whilst this may or may not be plausible even to my level of strangeness I am certainly not willing to meet myself, future or past, and I will leave that to people who chew on tofu and rub themselves in patchouli oil. You see it goes a little something like this.

When you are odd you tend to meet up with odd or in fact team up with odd. This has been the story of my life, meet up with odd, become best friends with odd and stay odd forever. Of course there is little in the past to differentiate with my future in this regard and hence why I gravitated toward my best friend at high school Jodie, we were odd or at least I felt I was.

We loved all the same things and were virtually inseparable which suited me fine as I enjoyed her company during the darkest of years in my family life and what hell that was and became. Perhaps to this end she probably never knew that her friendship with me and the time we spent together away from my home in particular were some of the best of my teenage years. They were carefree and exploratory and never had to be explained and I never did. That is until it all came to a crashing end through no fault of my own or at least that was my perception of it. There is no need to loath you with the story of how it all came undone and I still find it hard to think about the night it all came apart but suffice to say that ultimately it ended my friendship with Jodie and a little piece of this Jodie also ended as well.

I was horrified at what occurred, I guess I still am even more than twenty years later some things just don’t really get better with time. I was embarrassed and knew things were irrevocably changed forever I wanted things to be different but they never were or could be. Of course I tried in vain to make the friendship work despite the very obvious fact that it was clear it couldn't but it plagued me. So from that time on one of the best friends that I had was gone and unfortunately for me it hurt a lot. I thought she was the coolest person I had ever known. She was one of a kind and I always felt second fiddle to her she knew the coolest clothes to wear and the latest next best thing but even if I felt she was cooler than me she never made me feel I wasn't cool like her, she always made me feel great about being me and I loved that. I always trailed and struggled with trying to be cool. Guess I am still trying. Aren't we all.

Memories are a grand pleasure of life and I often smile when I think of the times we spent together, doing the things “not normal” teenagers do. We loved boys and we listened to music, okay okay I loved Peter Kapusi she was smart enough to love all boys. We had sleep over’s and concocted great ideas to order home delivery pizza when it first got “invented” just to see which lovely boy would deliver it, umm a girl of course. Laugh! We damn near almost pissed our pants. We dreamt of nights spent with Pseudo Echo and watched every gore film we could get our hands on. We wore clothes that nobody else did, we had hairstyles that nobody else did and we certainly never ever ventured to listen to “their” music so trips to Disco City were executed to avoid anything untoward, we went to clubs that nobody else did and we did it all before anybody else did. I loved the fact that she was alternative and I hope she enjoyed this about me. I can still listen to certain music and remember what it felt like to be me back then. We spent hours planning out our attire for school dances and even more time analysing and picking apart the whole evening afterwards. We had mud fights and food fights and laughed ourselves into stupors and with the naivety of youth I never thought it would end. It did. It was sad and devastating.

I hope she has all the riches that one deserves from life and I know that she would never settle for a boring UN alternative life. I have travelled the globe and met thousands of people and I know that I will never meet another Jodie, when it comes to a childhood friend you never do, it’s just the way life is. I also know that she is the one person who might get a laugh out the fact that twenty years on, Peter Kapusi finally contacted me and he found me through this blog. I never would have thought that this blog could yield such a catch but after reading one line that I had randomly written bang there was the email from Peter Kapusi that I had waited a whole high school career for and nobody could have understood better or laughed along with me more at the irony than my dear friend Jodie.

So I am Jodie and I have a best friend called Jodie and I had a best friend called Jodie who may never know how much our friendship meant to me.

My Hot Pharmacy/Chemist/Drug Store Guy!

2011-05-24T03:44:00.000-07:00

I now live at the pharmacy. Yes that is right ever since I delved into the world known as motherhood I spend every waking hour working out where my local pharmacy/chemist/drugstore is and what time they are open and what time they will close. I have been known to call them up 2 minutes before closing time begging for the last bottle of baby cough medicine then bolting in my spewed upon clothes and making it just in time to watch them turn the lights off. So now my latest dilemma is the hot looking pharmacist. If presumably there is a higher god or intelligence or who knows what then surely the laugh is on me. It seems only when I have to buy something that I would rather not have to ask a hot looking male pharmacist for that I am forced to.

Today I had just such an experience and my thought was "Where in fucks name are those annoying women who always hassle the shit out of you when you are walking around looking like you don't know what you are doing".

I tell you I have travelled the world and it seems I've been into every type of drug selling booth from Sydney to Reykjavik and believe me there is always one of those women who is just aching to sell you some unnecessary vitamins. But where were they when I had to tell the hot pharmacist about my vagina?. So I sometimes wish I could revert back to my childhood because when I was a kid growing up in the suburbs of Sydney there was a chemist called Cincotta in a dainty little town called Merrylands. There was nothing you could not get at Cincotta, camera's, Donkey Kong, chocolates, dolls, flashes for your camera oh and film, remember that stuff, film, and not to mention drugs. Oh and the whole lot could be gift wrapped for free. Cincotta was open all the time and everyone and I mean everyone who lived around there remembers going to Cincotta and picking out there Birthday/Christmas presents. Of course I always chose liquid morphine. So Mr. Cincotta, the actual pharmacist, was thankfully an old man who rarely ventured from behind the counter and he left it to his swarm of "ladies" to assist customers with itchy twats.

So to the hot looking pharmacist please never walk around the counter to assist me ever again because I only end up walking out with a whole heap of shit that I really don't need to avoid telling you what I really had to purchase. Thanks..........

Dear Me......

2011-05-17T02:07:00.000-07:00

(Dear Me is an idea inspired by a book entitled, Dear Me - A Letter to My Sixteen Year Old Self, edited by Joseph Galliano, published by Simon & Schuster in which celebrities give advice to their teenage selves. Here is my letter.)

Let me start off by telling you that your life now is no reflection of how your life will turn out. For all of your brooding it will never reflect what is going to happen to you. So all the countless hours you spend dreaming of your future and how it will turn out is nothing in comparison to how good it will be. It is so much better than you could ever dream and dream you do my girl, dream you do. Still you need to know the truth first off and it's going to be brutal. I know that once this is out of the way and you see reason you will understand it is just the way life is and being reasonable is something you are very good at.

First of all, you will never marry Peter Kapusi! Harsh aren't I?. Secondly you will also never marry Dave Gahan, Morten Harket or Julian Lennon. Sorry but the amount of hours you wile away on them will amount to nothing except for the fact it teaches you valuable lessons which is always a good thing, right? So now that is out of the way and you have finished crying yourself into a stupor and emerged from your cupboard you can find out the good stuff.

You will travel the world my dear ending up in far reaching places not least of all Iceland and Japan! I know Iceland, you probably don't even know where that is right now, so look it up because you are going there. You will live in the motherland of England and the United States ta boot, imagine that, you can't can you? You will watch hot mud boil in New Zealand and make your husband, yes you get married! bathe in thermal mud, though he complains about it endlessly, the mud, not the marriage. You will wonder the streets of Paris and dance the night away in New York. Oh and not to mention dips in the Adriatic sea, Chinese food in Hong Kong and relaxing massages in Fiji, and you think you won't get as far as Budgewoi. Boy are you in for a treat, oh and expect it all to be done in Business Class, you marry well my dear, you marry well.

If the travel isn't enough for you well you end up meeting every musical hero you ever dreamt of. Ready! Okay! You will attend after show parties with Depeche Mode in Los Angles, yes that is right my girl sipping champagne with the lads at the Hollywood Bowl, if you don't mind. You will meet Tony Bennett and have his driver drive you back to your hotel in L.A, yes L.A. You spend an afternoon chewing the fat with Iva Davies and you chat up Howard Jones, not to mention bumping literally into Prince. Oh and I have saved the best till last. You kiss Billy Idol, on the lips!! Gasp! Yes, let me reiterate, a proper kiss on the lips. See things aren't too shabby at this point huh?.

But what about the rest! Well you will start working in a place at the age of 19 that is so unusual and different that there is no way of explaining it to you at 16, even though it is only three years away. Suffice to say that the people you meet through this experience are without doubt the most vibrant, amazing, creative, intelligent and crazy bunch that exist on the planet. You don't feel you fit in at the moment but by the time you are 21 you will be the toast of the town let me assure you. The people you surround yourself with will lead you out of your darkness and into a whole new way of life and the lessons they teach you turn you into a strong, confident and vibrant young woman who doesn't take any shit from anyone. You will work hard, but you will be rewarded and working hard is something you are never afraid of.

Okay Okay I know you are salivating to find out who you will marry. Well my dear you already know him. He is in your life everyday and it turns out that he will eventually spend every other day of your life with you as well. You manage to get it together in New York of all places but there are some hurdles to jump before he finally leaps and you are happy to go with the flow. It also has something to do with you being patient and reasonable oh and he is as well. Once you are together he is the love of your life, your partner, your friend and someone who is able to be with you in your darkest hour and your finest hour and always respects you for who you are. A rare trait in many people. So if you tell him that he is cute occasionally and scratch his back he is like an old dog, loyal, loving and dependable. And no it isn't Peter Kapusi - Get over it!

You will have two children, yes two! Don't panic, you don't have them until after you have travelled, eaten out at a bazillion restaurants, partied like it was 1999 for many many years before and after 1999 and finally found that if you didn't have a child then there wasn't much more trouble you could find for yourself so you add two people who can do that for you. The big surprise is that no you are not having boys. It will be girls, girls, girls. They are funny and cute and you will love them more than you could have ever expected and they will love you so much it will make your heart heal.

As for your friends, well what you see is what you get. Once you make a friend they are for life. You always have an abundance of friends and there are a few who fall by the wayside but it isn't for want of you trying. So 99% of the friends you have now will still be by your side in another 23 years and they don't appear to be going anywhere soon.

As for work well you will be earning more money than you can poke a stick at but it takes a while and you will toil in dead end jobs for a while I'm afraid but that will eventually change. In the end you will be the topper most of the popper most and it will come when you least expect it.

So where will you live?. Well you will eventually own your own home. Strange concept isn't it?. In fact if you are smart with your money, and let's face it you are not little miss spend thrift you may even end up with more than one. Let me just put the location down as a place that you have always wanted to live and leave it as a surprise because frankly you need something to keep you brooding and sitting in your cupboard listening to Depeche Mode it's what makes your teenage years so memorable and your skin so palid.

You learn young that your life is only going to be good if you make it that way. Nobody will help you, only you. So you make the most of your life my dear, you really do. At the moment your life is nothing short of fucken horrible. You feel rejected and tortured for who you are, who you want to be and who you want to be with. It won't take long for this to change and the lessons of loneliness and exile you feel will help you be compassionate, honest and tolerant of all people no matter who they are and no matter where they come from. So in the end you will be many things to many people an artists muse, a mother, a best friend, a lover and a fighter all in good time. You won't always sit in your bedroom listening to the same album over and over wishing your life away eventually you get out and actually make one of your own.

Happy Trails...........

BOGOF

2011-04-21T02:52:00.000-07:00

Poor Bob they are now flocking tickets to his show for the old Two For One deal, BOGOF, which is pretty hilarious, Bob Geldof as a BOGOF!!!!!!!!!!! Fuck me I can't stop laughing, BOGOF, never a better term has been uttered and never a better term that so suits his name... So chaps By One Get One Free. Now I just might take him up on that offer.

Bob's Back Baby! - Rock And Rebuild Concert!

2011-04-20T03:07:00.001-07:00

It should go without saying but due to the recent "sell out" performance by Bob Geldof at Star City Casino he is going to back it up with another show on the 1st May. Only this time he is not going to do it alone, no no no he is in fact going to tread the boards with the likes of Jon Stevens and Danielle Spencer, if you don't mind. Tickets are cheap, $150 and all money raised will be going to the Australian Red Cross to assist in the recent events such as floods, earth quakes and other disasters in the pacific region. Will I be going, umm possibly alone at this price and also I will probably not be around. Sorry Bob I have never missed you in Sydney but this could be a first, frankly I don't want to share you. We will see though, we will see.

One Day I Woke Up And Looked Like Col Gaddafi

2011-04-18T04:28:00.000-07:00

I recently watched a documentary all about the removal of hair, from ones head, face, back, bum, legs, underarms and the list is endless pretty much everywhere. I know I enjoy quality television what can I say. Whilst watching it I thought well this doesn't really apply to me. Turns out it does, turns out the more I watched the more I thought how utterly ridiculous the human race really is about such nonsense. Though I thought I would impart on the young ladies some practical advice. The day you turn 30 you will wake up, look in the mirror and over night you have turned into Col Gaddafi. Facial hair my loves, facial hair so put down that Cosmo quiz and get fucking worried and shares in Remington because you will need it. Here I am before going out to dinner on Saturday night, grimacing because I just had to have a shave since I was going out after 5pm, nothing like a ginger shadow to ruin your evening out. Read it and weep ladies, read it and weep!

Scary But Nobody Cares!

2011-04-09T00:54:00.000-07:00

(Above: Me, shitting myself, at the Vatican - Roma! - Just so you can see what scared looks like. Of course I wasn't scared until I looked down from the top of the dome of the Basilica turns out its fucken higher than I anticipated)

This time last year I was sitting watching television when I put my hand up to my neck for a moment. It was then that I realised that I had a honking huge lump in my neck. Two in fact. Fuck this can't be good I thought. Perhaps it could be hormones?, umm no, perhaps you idiot it will be cancer. I sat literally thinking, fucken hell how didn't I feel this before. So I called my GP explained the situation and "Come straight in " was her reply. Hoping for a friendly face and a yes its only your glands and go home explanation I was struck as she said. "Yes more tests for you and no I have no idea what it is" Oh Fuck this can't be good. I didn't hang about and got more blood tests. The next step was an ultrasound. I went in hoping again to have a friendly face tell me it would all be okay. How about no. How about yes we can do an ultrasound but if you have cancer we won't be able to tell and we will have to do a nuclear scan. Great. So ultrasound done and yes they couldn't tell what it was, next step, nuclear. So off I trot to find out the real deal. I was warned that if they suspected cancer they would biopsy on the spot. Yay!. So I layed on the table with the scanning machine hanging over me like the proverbial dark cloud. Oh Fuck this can't be good. After the scan I sat in the waiting room, shaking. I am too young for this, yes I know I say I have had a great run but I am not in the mood for this right now. They call me in. You are okay, no cancer came the stone cold reply. Oh Fuck that is good. So I came home to a teary best friend Jodie who was here to greet me good or indifferent. We did some crying and I breathed a sigh of relive. I won't forget this experience it scared the shit out of me. Perhaps one day I will experience it again, perhaps not. I take advantage of each day and I know that I did before this happened but it just shows me yet again that if you don't then something can always come along and bite you on the arse.

P.S The Title refers to an advertisement from the 1980's watch it and weep.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Orl8uNuQqew&playnext=1&list=PL6AB19F42D2D9A10C

The Foetal Position

2011-03-29T02:05:00.000-07:00

Last week I was at the birth of my friends baby. A water birth at that! This is not the first time I have been on the other side of the fence. My sister Jodie, not me in the third person, Jodie I am so pretty, I am an air hostess Jodie, well I also went to the birth of her second spawn. So the difference with this birth was the fact that I was able to experience it from the first contraction through to the all encompassing screaming fest which is pushing the baby out. Unlike Jodie who still looked like a supermodel after only spending 2 hours from zero to baby, yes she is a total bitch and I hate her, this birth was a little more full on.

Another dear friend Simone has made it clear to me on a number of occasions that she feels that the business of natural birthing is barbaric and unnecessary and as she had a wonderful Cesarean she is totally against pain when you don't really need to go through it. Too posh to push so to speak. I have to say I am still not an advocate for the old "quarter chicken and chips" that is where they cut you open like a chook to get the stuffing out. Although I am starting to think that well I guess it is an option for the piss weak. All the women who were present at the birth, myself, Jodie and Mandy the poor dear who was screaming for her dear life to end had all had two children. Well actually Mandy was giving birth to her second child at that very moment, so between us we had some experience.

Jodie and I did all we could during the contractions to ease Mandy's pain, rubbed her back, feet, and body, held hot compress to her belly and generally stayed positive. When her waters broke and it was serious "game on" we filled up the bath and prepared for the 1960's water birth minus the dead kid at the end. I have to say that Jodie and I know the type of screams that means that the baby is imminent and about an hour before "those" screams came we kept saying to Mandy, "sorry girlfriend you just ain't going to have him right now" How true that was. So by the time we got down to the business end of the evenings proceedings Mandy was screaming like all holy hell and I felt every fucken inch of what she was going through.

When she couldn't catch her breath in between pushing and contractions I almost burst into tears, but then we should have all enrolled in the "breathing in birth" classes lest it may have helped, umm not! And then there he was and the pain was over. Birthing is an amazing thing and for me after spending a million years on the latest diet, going to the gym and pretty much loathing my body after watching it do what it is meant to do it leaves me wondering why I worried so much about it. Still those screams left me in the foetal position. So no Miss Scarlett, I ain't birthin no babies.

Labour - Birthing Not Christina

2011-03-26T04:42:00.000-07:00

I know I have been slack with my blog, and I know how you all sit by your little nerd boxes checking in anticipation for a post but things have been crazy. So stay tuned I am writing all about the business of birthing, I know you are so excited you might just stop watching repeat episodes of Knightrider. So stay tuned.

Annihilation

2011-03-26T04:38:00.000-07:00

Yes that is what the NSW labour Party has just been served, a lovely hot dish of annihilation. So fuck off you bunch of blood sucking thieves and thank fuck I don't have to sell my house in Sydney lest the people of NSW be rooted up the arse another day longer by them. Oh and this isn't an anti Labour rant it is merely a fact, bleed people dry and they tend to get the shits its just a tip.

Last Chance

2011-03-26T04:32:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is your last chance to see me at a Museum, that is before they show my sad old carcase as a dinosaur in the years to come. Yes that is right the 80's are back is literally going back, into the box as it were. So if you are in Sydney, grab your gel, frizz your hair, throw on your Doctor Marten's Boots and go and see what life was kind of like in the 80's at the Powerhouse Museum. Because if you don't then after tomorrow you will just have to accept as I do that it is now 2011. But on a serious note it has indeed been an honour to be involved in the exhibition and it has opened a lot of doors for me and also made me realise that despite everything when I saw a door closing in front of me I always managed to slip in through the back one and make my life as fantastic as I possibly can.

Tammy - James Blunt and Those Boobarama's

2011-03-16T02:25:00.001-07:00

Tammy interviewed James Blunt. Yawn! But the saving grace was the fact that she looked boob o lishous. Yet Again! I mean if this keeps up that marriage proposal from Demis Roussos is as good as mailed. For more info on what we do here you are boobs and all.

I Was Wrong - I Still Love You Ignatius!

2011-03-06T00:58:00.000-08:00

I was wrong, and as usual I am happy to admit it. The Mardi Gras parade as viewed by my good self via the wonders of cable TV last night proved that perhaps there maybe just maybe is a chance the gay community may revive itself from its ten to fifteen year hiatus. I am not sure if it was merely the telecast that made it look good or the fact that perhaps it was good but something has shifted and thank fuck for that. The parade was once a political hot topic with a message of equality, love and a certain slant on naughtiness and last night the community dipped its toes back into a very large pool of clever ideas. I only hope it continues because for once it made me want to be there, something I have not felt for a very very long time. So Ignatius you did it my love and whilst I doubted you for a mere moment I never stopped loving you and your message, "I'm not like everybody else" and once again, Thank Fuck For That!

Happy Mardi Gras

2011-03-04T13:58:00.001-08:00

Sort of goes without saying but then in 2011 it is all about being as beige as possible and no doubt tonight will deliver that in spades.

This Blog Site Is Crapiola and I am so out of here!

2011-02-20T00:01:00.000-08:00

I know I keep saying it but fucken hell this is the worst site to host a blog. The bloody thing doesn't show my posts as per how I write them. The photo upload is just nothing short of fucked in the head and as for the other features like how many people have visited your site it goes from 220 readers for an entire three fucken years to 20,000 in one day. Save me please!, I know I have read my own blog more than 220 since I started it so that is just fucken codswallop. Computer nerds please help me move to another site!

Blur + Alison Moyet + Donner Summer = Moby Disk

2011-02-19T00:39:00.000-08:00

Even hard line christian fundamentalists can get it wrong when it comes to their religion and even though some in the name of their God travel to Mecca to be crushed or blow themselves up in the name of Allah or give money via mobile ATM's to Brian and Bobbie Houston I bet none of them had to do it whilst listening to Blur mixed in with Alison Moyet and topped off with a hint of Donner Summer. There is a bloody limit to how far one should go in the name of their religion and I draw the line at this I really do.

So I stood with a mere handful to watch Fletch spin his records in my hometown. I have to say I had gone with a great amount of expectation but it didn't take very long to realise that there was a reason this event was free. I mean I guess if I went round to Fletch's house for dinner and he was putting on some tunes then I guess he can play whatever he likes but I am still at a loss as to his play list selection?

I felt it only fitting to show up since Fletch was decent enough to have me on his door list at every show in LA last tour. I was grateful for the free drinks, nibbles and idle chatter with Martin but if he ever invites me over to his house to listen to some tunes, well I think I will stay at home.

Fletch!

2011-02-15T01:44:00.001-08:00

Only one more sleep till Fletch hits the decks in Sydney. Strange, spooky and surreal, Fletch in the flesh, in SYDNEY and all this for FREE! Two words I love and they are DM and FREE! Hey it beats legging it to the Wiseman's Ferry and having to share a fucken Tepee with a bunch of teenagers, so I am taking the free DJ slot in the big smoke, heaven knows what it will yield.

Oh Yeah And She Can't Type Either!

2011-02-11T01:00:00.000-08:00

Don't expect a response from the other Jodie about how I talked her up, she can't type. That is one thing I forgot to mention, can you believe in 2011 that there is someone who can't type, well there is. Poor Pet!

Jodie + Jodie = Love

2011-02-10T00:24:00.001-08:00

Above is a photo of the author, right and the sister Jodie, stage left. I know Jodie occasionally reads my blog, like she needs to know what my mind is up to when I only speak to her about four millions times a day.

Rare in this world do you meet someone that you pretty much experience the biggest moments of your life with be it marriage, children, husbands, friends, hard times, good times and all those times in between and even rarer still do you meet someone that you can talk continuously too non stop from Sydney to L.A to New York then spend a few weeks talking then get back on the plane and talk NY to LA to Sydney non stop and then some.

We have seen and done it all and every now and then we find out something new about each other and it excites us no end.

Yes I hate marzipan and have a sick fascination for doors I am a klutz and am incapable of holding too many bags without tripping I also potter around anywhere from between 30 minutes to an entire day before being forcibly dragged to the shower, yes I want to be clean but dang it if it doesn't mean I can't keep talking.

And as for Jodie part 2 well she puts cream in her coffee has no idea who Margo Fontane is, listens to Christian radio in the car eats Kentucky Friend Chicken but stays slim, cant blow dry her hair, doesn't eat fruit and always always laughs at my fluffs.

We have travelled the world together, many times over and never grown tired of the continuous conversation or passengers handing their rubbish to us. And I ask how many of you out there can claim to have seen each others Kiama blow hole and come back for more? How bout none.

So you see if it weren't for the fact that I like to have a front row seat at wedding rehearsals then I would not be saying that Jodie is without doubt the best friend I have ever had.

Mowing The Lawn! Again!

2011-01-30T19:35:00.000-08:00

There is a guy I used to know a very long time ago that uses social networking sites to communicate his thoughts. I am at a loss and wonder why he feels the need to only post about the fact that he has "yet again" had to mow his lawn, or sometimes when he is feeling especially excited he posts that he mowed his "in laws" lawn. Holy Fucking Hell is this as good as it gets for some people. I read it with a morbid fascination in the hope that maybe just maybe he will one day write that he cheated on his wife by fucking the next door neighbours cat and was arrested for espionage. But then again I know it will never happen and his life will only ever be as interesting as just mowing a lawn.

Gary Numan - I die you die

2011-01-25T01:49:00.000-08:00

This is not love
This is not even worth a point of view
In Echo Park I
Pause for effect and whisper "who are you?"

They crawl out of their holes for me
And I die you die
Hear them laugh, watch them turn on me
And I die you die
See my scars, they call me such things
Tear me
Tear me
Tear me

Now I have your names
Screaming "you will suffer" and "your all too late"
Now I feel young
Does everything stop when the old dame falls?

They crawl out of their holes for me
And I die you die
Hear them laugh, watch them turn on me
And I die you die
See my scars, they call me such things
Tear me
Tear me
Tear me

But I'm still frightened by the telephone!

I Keep Forgetting To Mention

2011-01-24T00:05:00.001-08:00

Recently I have been asked by readers of this blog about the Peter Kapusi story which was posted some time ago now. I guess I wasn't clear that in conclusion he had in fact;

A. Contacted Me via this blog as a response to the post regarding his once hot teenage arse.

B. Assured me he would stop the nightmares by having a slow dance with me at our school hall one day.

Therefore;

C. I live in hope.

Fletch Is Touring!

2011-01-23T22:19:00.000-08:00

Yes Australia, and Tasmania??? I am finding out more details via the DM Husband but as yet nothing. Oh and by touring I mean playing some of his friends songs via a record player. Great huh? Well we will see, well maybe if I can be bothered and he offers to buy me some drinks and nibbles just like in LA but I will live in hope.

R - 101 - Somwhere near Venice - Recorded live from Rome!

2011-01-23T17:49:00.000-08:00

That is the new station where the sister is currently broadcasting from. I told her it was a sign and that she should sign with them. 101? DM! Get it!

If you don't then it is Depeche Mode 101 not Danger Mouse!

Finally some old school music instead of all those Gen Y's, perhaps now things might be easier in terms of interviews and perhaps now she may well keep her appointment with Bono I mean how many times can we apologise for her tardiness and opss I left him standing in a bar waiting for me, well now we are in the big league baby, or at least still wearing black and waiting at the bar.

I'm Still Here

2011-01-23T01:24:00.001-08:00

I know, I know still here! I have not been able to get the tech head to move my blog just yet of course in the world of the computer nerd other more interesting pursuits have taken a precedence you know important stuff like seeing Tron and playing online games so here I stay until I can get my website in order. In the meantime I have been filling my days with trips to the Sydney Museum where I saw the lovely Amelia who assures me she is looking in to getting me the memorabilia I desired from the recent exhibit at the Powerhouse. Actually she is looking into it lest I smash the case and take it and cause a public mischief. Whilst at the museum Peter and I saw the Edwardian Sydney Summer exhibit and it was quite good although whilst these people were swanning around having picnics and sunning themselves the other half of Sydney were dying of horrid diseases and sweltering in tin sheds.

I also managed to see the exhibit "Sin City" at the Justice and Police Museum, yet another fantastic exhibit that they should be proud of. It was great to see Elizabeth Burton in the interview they had about the Cross. I will be forever kicking myself for not really understanding when I was the subject "art" matter for Elvis Richardson's exhibit all those years ago that I would be alongside such well known and talented individuals such as Elizabeth Burton, all I can blame is my youth, but at least I managed to come up trumps on the opening night and hopefully the Sydney art community fell for my ramblings, at least I hope so.

So all and all a lot of fun and I even, gasp, caught the bus there! I know I couldn't believe it but yes I reverted to my youth and found that in fact there is a reason I no longer catch buses or public transport and that is mainly due to the fact that I always ring the bell too late and have to walk a million miles home from the bus stop. So the only time in the future you will see me at a bus stop is when I will be dancing to it. I don't have a luxury vehicle for nothin!

Christmas Overhaul

2010-12-18T19:30:00.001-08:00

I am moving my blog very very soon. The main reason is when I post a long blog rant or load of old shit the settings change and I can not edit things as I want them edited. Meaning it looks as though I write one long line of crap and don't have any idea of a paragraph or a sentence. So in order to save myself from further errors I am in the process of change. Over the Christmas period I am getting nerd help to set up my website/social networking and Gen Y shit. I know it flies in the face of my ranting about the species known as Gen Y but if you can't beat them join them.

Holy Fuck You Go Bob!

2010-12-17T14:18:00.000-08:00

A Triumph Finally! For many many years I have waited for the day when I would see Bob Triumph against an Australian audience, ungrateful, wicked bastards that we are. Well the wait is over as it has finally happened and not before long I might add, it only took around twenty fucking years or so.

I was initially concerned about the venue choice, Star City Casino? Was the show doomed to be cancelled when ticket sales slumped which has happened to Bob in the past when promoters obviously bite off more than they can chew and try to book a venue that will not be filled. Sorry Bob I have been to every show you have done in Sydney, bar any pre 1985 when I was too young, including seeing you at the "Three Weeds" pub in the early 90's when it was a case of play a pub or play in someones lounge room. So I kind of like the small atmosphere with myself and the three other fans who come along, but hey at least we come, okay maybe it is four but I am guessing the total number is around 3.

So it was a big surprise when I realised that holy fuck this show would go ahead. Now Bob's last tour at the Enmore Theatre was the same deal only the fact that the entire place had the blackout treatment so as not to allude to the fact that yet again only myself and the other three/four had showed up.

So Friday evening was the big night and all was going array. Tamara was running late, I was in a fluster and Frank wanted to sit outside the venue and slowly sip Australian wine as if we had all the time in the world even though we had been warned the doors would be locked at 8pm with no exceptions which would leave me out in the cold with my ear pressed up against a door in order to hear my beloved. Joy!

Okay so earlier we had managed to organise a seat swap with the tickets we had indeed paid for. Yes Bob we could have scammed free industry tickets but instead we paid for your show because I love you and don't want to rip you off. So after an approach to the box office to purchase an extra ticket for Frank the lovely counter girl swapped our seats for unclaimed comps which were for the second row.

You see I thought my purchased tickets were front row. Turns out I was wrong. Foolish me thought row A was front row but it was in fact the fourth row, that is fourth after AA, BB, CC, DD, ahhhh okay, stop making sense. The poor pet behind the counter saw my angst at this news and helped me immediately with the comps. The fact is we could have walked up flashed a press pass and bang front fucking row whilst the three "real" fans, one of which just happens to be me, sit row 4 whilst the industry fucks and freebie arse lickers don't show up, as usual, which = empty seats and three very cranky fans. Not your fault Bob just the juggernaut that rolls along behind the artists back therefore proving again that its not what you know its who you know. Of course I know all too well after many years of concert going and music industry hoopla so I shouldn't act like I don't but whether its U2, Gorillaz or Englebert Humperdick a fan is a fan and they should garner some respect as with the artist them self who I have no doubt are left unaware of their fans plight.

So in order to get in the venue we convince Frank to "skull, skull, skull, skull" his wine, which he does with an incredible lack of speed and then rush to catch the lift down to the venue entrance. In the lift, and full of beans, or shit as is usually the case I ask a rather elderly, okay okay one step out of the grave couple what show they are seeing tonight, assuming they are going to see something else. Transcript;

Me: Excuse me which show are you seeing tonight? (Voice in my head, "Wow, this really is "morbid" curiosity, literally morbid, get a load of these two they may well croak and die right here in this lift"!)

Mature Lady: Ahhhhh, who are we seeing dear???

Mature Male: Ahhhhhhhhh, ummmmmm, sorry what was that?

Mature Lady: Ahhhh, ummm, what show are we seeing dear? (loudly)

Mature Male: (Checking ticket), ummm Bob, Bob, Bob, Gerldorhfe.

Mature Lady: Ummmm, errrrr, errrr, Bob, Bob, ummmm Bob yes Bob, yesss yessss he's called Bob.

Me: You do realise he is a punk rocker and WILL NOT be talking politics. You do realise he is a musician and all the other stuff is other stuff and tonight will be about his MUSIC. (Voice in head and then later to Tamara, "They don't realise that he is going to say the word fuck, sex, politics, religion and possibly Bono all in one sentence do they"? Holy crap the audience will walk out en mass.

Me: Umm you purchased tickets to tonight's show? (Voice in head "Bet they got the tickets for free when the purchased the two for one buffet on pension day and thought, well at least its a night out")

Them: Yes

Me: (Voice In Head; "Holy fuck, you go Bob!")

So I was worried for Bob, really really worried especially after a quick scan of the now almost packed theatre, damn near 2000 seats, and filled, Holy fuck you go Bob!

Okay okay so they don't know any other song other than "Do They Know It's Christmas" and they also wont know that if you play it myself and the other three fans okay okay four fans will get the humph and walk out if you do. So you are really - bloody hell I can't believe I am going to say this - "showcasing" yourself here, with the possibility of picking up a few new fans who in the past have never shown up before tonight. Holy fuck you go Bob!.

So out Bob comes, myself and the other three, alright four fans clap wildly whilst the rest of the audience don't realise its you because they don't know who you are until you step up to the microphone and into the spotlight which allows them to recognise you, they then clap, politely, albeit with trepidation.

Bang! Music! Bang! Rock and Roll! Bang! Holy fuck you go Bob!

After a few songs Bob concurs to inform his audience that he is suffering from a lurgy, but is going to press on despite the fact. He also admits that he is used to an Australian audience giving him shit on all matters, though this time they don't, he presses on.

Note to Bob: (There is one reason Australian audience's in the past gave you any grief and this is due to the fact that those fuckers doing it are not fans and haven't paid to see you. For example during your last tour when you performed at the Enmore Theatre all I noticed were a bunch of Gen Y comp ticket holders who seemed to be friends of friends of someone who thought they knew someone from the Daily Telegraph. So to me most of them only appeared to be at the show so they could be the first to tweet to the world that Bob Geldof flew into a rage and called Russell Brand a "talentless" cunt. So disappointed that they may go home empty handed they threw caution to the wind and began to heckle or for those more inventive who can type with a fucking thumb - spend the entire show texting their friends, the ignorant fucks that they are.)

So of course I am biased as you know but I think Bob is brilliant, I love his music and I am not afraid to say it and have done for years. I think his left handed wizardry of the guitar is not only bizarre as he has a right handed guitar but interesting to watch and of course when I am not watching that I am watching the fact that Bob does not believe in the institution of the under pant. Holy fuck you go Bob!

So we three/four fans got all the hits including, A sex thing, Room 19, Mary of the 4th form, Rat Trap, Banana Republic and the ye olde Don't like Monday's standard and then some, meaning more songs which was great.

So despite the fact that Bob was clearly struggling due to illness he didn't disappoint. He sang his little heart out, and his voice out and he as usual up staged his good friend Bono by wearing an actual colour on stage, albeit to use his words a"baby shit green" colour it was a colour and those seated in row x would have been able to see him even if they didn't know who the fuck he was.

Note From Me via Bob to Bono: Please wear white! When was the last stadium show you went to? Those up the back find it difficult to see one when one is dressed as the same colour as the fucking speakers. I know it is a difficult colour to pull off, white that is, but perhaps one could employ someone who can make one a pair of slacks which holds you in at all the right places, also join Bob's institute of the no under pant club, chicks dig it? Its just a tip!

So the show went off. I can say this with a great deal of certainty as the elderly Asian couple I noticed seated in the row behind me, (note photo above), before the show started were the litmus test as far as I was concerned. I shot them a glance before the show and they appeared to have no idea whom they were seeing and didn't strike me as rock show types but by the last song they were standing and damn near screaming a lung for more.

Holy Fuck You Go Bob!

"You Will Need To Wear Them In!"

2010-12-12T03:25:00.000-08:00

Finally purchased Dr. Martens classic shoes in black with yellow stitching. Turns out I am not so old after all and if I had just walked a few hundred meters out of my front door then perhaps I would have found what I was looking for. Just to make me feel young the Gen Y who sold them to me reminded me as I trotted out the door "Remember you need to wear them in, K" "Okay" I replied acting as if I had never seen a pair before in my life. I wanted to say "They invented the band aid in response to the blisters that would form on my poor aching feet due to Dr. Martens in the mid to late 80's" If only she knew huh!, perhaps I was looking particularly young or perhaps she was just doing me a favour but it was nice to be Gen Y for a few seconds although I doubt I faked it well enough I wasn't texting at the time and actually held eye contact so I guess she would have guessed I was an X but then that ain't hard.

Dr. Martens

2010-12-09T02:39:00.000-08:00

May not have to wait to get said shoes in the motherland. Have possibly found some in home town, hoorah!

I Will Clean Up My Act! Maybe!

2010-12-09T02:36:00.001-08:00

I have just re-read some of my posts, god I suck at grammar/grammer/grammor. My defence is that I am usually half asleep when bashing out a blog or very very cross about what I am writing about and hence the passion seeps in and the grammar/grammer/grammor and spelling (spl) slip out the door and down the road for a well earned drink. So if I don't make sense then go read Wikkileaks kause I carn't spel K.

There Is Only One Thing That Unites Us!

2010-12-08T15:17:00.000-08:00

All I Want For Christmas!

2010-12-07T20:10:00.000-08:00

Is to never ever have to hear "All I want for Christmas" by Mariah Carey, ever ever again! Thank you Santa, I really don't think this is asking for too much I could be asking for the abolition of poverty but no just a simple easy request, vanquish that song immediately!

"It's Not About Who You Are Now Darling! Its About Who You Once Were!"

2010-12-07T02:46:00.000-08:00

Oh yes these are the words that are ringing in thine ears at the moment. "Its not about who you are now Darling, Its about who you once were". Yes that is so true, so very true. So this afternoon and well into the early evening I spent reminiscing with the lovely Vittorio of the Piccolo Bar something I haven't done in a long time, he loves to chat as much as I do and if it not for the fact that we are getting older and the darkness was looming we probably would have talked all night, which is something I "used" to do with Vittorio, talk to him at 4am after I had finished work. So today we talked and talked and talked but in the end that is all it was just talk and as Vittorio so rightly pointed out it was all "bullshit" and don't I know how to do that, in spades. I used to feel relevant to the times, like I knew what was in and what was cool and underground, now of course I sometimes feel like I have been dropped into another era and I want the merry go round to drop me off please. I believe I am futuristic in my believes but I believe that I also truly value the past and who paved the streets with gold and as we both pointed out Lady Ga Ga would not know Lindsay Kemp if he walked up and did a Poiret in front of the poor girl thus proving Gen Y's intolerance of the past. So I don't want to be too down on the younger ones but we certainly did have some fabulous times and walking along the clean sterile streets of a town which I used to call my own was difficult, it was too clean, too perfect and I felt really irrelevant. I used to say Sydney don't go changin but sometimes I feel like an Englishman in New York literally in my own town, you know "I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien" Well perhaps the lame old Sting was onto something. Thankfully after feeling this wistful about my home town I then drove past the Enmore and Blondie and The Pretenders were playing, now if ever there were a truer line spoken tonight it is "Its not about who you are now darling, its about who you once were" so Vittorio perhaps we are relevant still because nor a more profound sentence could be uttered with those two treading the boards even if it were written in Lady Ga Ga's blood. So perhaps there is still old school relevance but don't bother trying to buy a pair of old school Dr. Marten's lace up black shoes with yellow stitching because this town no longer sells them, anywhere!. So London I will be back baby because and soon because Dr. Marten's are possibly still the one thing that unites us, or maybe not!........

Bob Bob Bobbing Along!

2010-12-04T03:28:00.000-08:00

I just knew Bob would be in Sydney in time for me to see him. He is my Christmas present all wrapped up in a big bow of having to deal with Star City Casino. Yes I can finally have it out with Mr. Geldof in regards to his selling out on the expensive watch front. Oh yes and I will have a word to him about it I might add. The sister and I are pushing for an interview, on this occasion she will interview and I will sit in stunned silence whilst trying not to shit myself not unlike other times in front of front men. Speaking of front we are row A of course, scored excellent seats yet again, that is because I am only competing with his daughters and I guess a few old Sydney friends he may scounge up for a vantage point. No doubt the door list will be huge - again!, wonder if I will have to sit next to Bono, again!, possibly not but it would also be nice to have a word in his ear about wearing black to outdoor stadium gigs and no doubt he will listen to what I have to say if only to have something else to drown out Bob's singing. So Bob get ready because I am on my way.

She's Got The Look

2010-12-02T00:48:00.000-08:00

It is hard to believe that anything good could have ever come of the song "She's Got The Look"
by that terrible band of the 80's "Roxette" but it did. Above in the middle is Khyanna attending her recent Year 10 formal and the reason I believe she is alive today is due in part to me and unfortunately that crap song would be part of her DNA. You see many moons ago probably about three years before Khyanna was born I was asked to go to a party which was being held in a part of town that I ordinarily would never have gone within a five kilometer radius of. I was not from there and I didn't want to go there. For reasons which still remain hazy, no doubt I was chasing boy action at the time I somehow agreed to go to this said party which incidentally was being held on a Saturday afternoon, yes that is right afternoon. I was not privy to the afternoon party set as I was used to getting up to go out at about 10pm and shutting the front door behind me to leave at 12pm so an afternoon party just threw me, so did how I was going to get to the party without a car.

So I called and persuaded my friend Claudia to come along and she agreed to go, no doubt hoping to chase boy action as well. So we arrived at the party only to find I didn't even know the person having the party and most of its attendees were particularly low brow. Everyone was out in the back yard and we headed out there to the thunderous sound of Roxettes, She's Got The Look. I cringed as I heard it but hoped things might improve. They didn't. We got out the back and I scanned the local boy talent and came to the quick conclusion that umm yeah let's leave. Unfortunately Claudia had spotted some potential and we stayed. We stayed through a few hours of hearing Roxette's She's Got The Look on repeat, yes that is right repeat. You see dear reader the girl having the party only had one record a 7" of you guessed it, Roxette's She's Got The Look she also had an old record player that sent the arm back to the start of the record once it had finished playing so you could hear it again and again and again, and didn't we just, almost to the point of self harm. I sat there unamused hoping for something to happen so as to take my mind off homicide and then the storm broke and the sun came shining down. The girls father arrived home from work and found a whole bunch of disgruntled teens in his yard having a party that he was unaware of and demanded we leave immediately. Thank fuck I couldn't have been happier. I skidded out the door and ran as fast as I could fearing my life would be irrevocably damaged due to being subjected to such bad taste in music for such a long period of time without respite. So the party then convened to a local park, minus the record player but still surrounded by the dull guests. I called for a back up plan so I could get home and I left Claudia to her own devices as she had clearly met someone she connected with and wanted to spend more time getting to know him. So I hitched my pony and split in case my ears started to bleed in public. I recall a few weeks later I saw Claudia holding hands with said young lad at the shops and I thought well at least we hadn't completely wasted an afternoon going to a crap party on the wrong side of town with people we had never met before nor would again. So in conclusion Claudia ended up having a child with the man she met that afternoon, her name is Khyanna, and without doubt, She Has The Look. Khyanna is stunning and I am glad that I agreed to go to that party if I hadn't then I believe she would not even exist, strange how life gives back and a chain of events can lead to a life changing alteration, so to Roxette, here's to you!, I guess the universe owes you one, Cheers!.

Darlinghurst Eats It's Young

2010-12-01T18:38:00.000-08:00

Yes that is right Darlinghurst does. There has been a new addition to the "80's Are Back" exhibition at the Powerhouse. A new art exhibit has been recognised and the result was a link to the website and blog via the Powerhouse's website. I loved looking at the photos and ended up knowing a few subject matters, Felicity being one. I can recall a great night at Luna Park with Felicity. I have no idea what we were doing there or why but I do recall her and Mon spinning wildly on the Rotor. Of course it all ended in tears when Mon ended up getting off and spewing a rather weird candy pink colour. The spew was in fact almost 100% pure fairy floss. Fun times, fun times. So check out the photos and the website my favorite is the picture of the international terminal at Sydney airport. Seriously no wonder nobody came to Sydney you would get out see that then run back to get back on your plane to somewhere a little more cultured or should that be kultured? At least David Bowie got the joke and loved Australia in the 80's. Oh and the Luna Park trip didn't occur till the 90's before then it was a closed ghost town.

New Addition To My Resume!

2010-12-01T18:31:00.000-08:00

The other day whilst going through the ten items or less aisle in the grocery store I had my hands full and couldn't go through my favorite self serve check out. I got to talking to the Gen Y behind the counter. I told her I loved the self service check out even though it could possibly be the demise of the 'check out chick' forever. The Gen Y assured me this would never be the case and I assured her this was a good thing on many levels not least the fact that a job is always a good thing when you are short on cash and young. Gen Y then suggested that if I love doing the self serve check out that I should list this as a skill on my resume. So there you have it I can now add, 'cashier' to my many talents even without an employer it doesn't appear to matter. I of course was hesitant to ask if this is how she had obtained her current employment, I have had enough run in's with Gen Y this year best to leave it up to my own burgeoning imagination.

Stay Tuned For Posts A Plenty

2010-11-30T14:21:00.001-08:00

I ran out of bandwidth due to downloading too much. So now I can get back to blogging and stop watching porn.

A Fantastic Interlude to Life

2010-11-21T00:55:00.000-08:00

Went out with friends to my favorite Japanese restaurant, went to the rest rooms and had the following exchange with a Gen Y.

(Whilst seated in the lavatory the lovely young lady in the receptacle beside me could be heard vomiting, later whilst washing my hands I spotted said young lady also washing her hands next to me the following exchange took place)

Me: Bad Night?

Her: Yes

Me: Feeling ill you poor pet?

Her: Yes

Me: Oh

Her: Yeah but it like shits me when people like don't tell you what you are like eating as a joke!

Me: Raw Fish?

Her: Like yeah its like totally not funny at all!

Me: A Ha...

Me: (In my head) The rather large sign out the front of the place in neon lights with the words JAPANESE didnt give you a hint, Oh Fuck what unleashed hell have we got on our hands with the under 25 set when they dont know JAPANESE = RAW FISH!

Please Read Old Post From Friday Regarding Ye Olde Flatmates!

2010-11-17T04:25:00.000-08:00

I wrote a post on Friday which I edited and therefore you need to step back in time to read it, actually you just need to scroll down to the new post - My Old Flatmates, blah blah blah, read it you might like it. Feel free to heckle, you know you want to.

The Coyote on Scrapbooking

2010-11-16T01:25:00.001-08:00

Seriously if I told you that I had come up with a brilliant idea to make millions of dollars and then I explained the concept of scrap booking you would tell me to go get fucked. I am amazed that people scrapbook. I am more amazed that anyone would take that much time to slap a photo into a book and "decorate" it and then place it in the lap of some poor unsuspecting and watch as they flip the pages of their scrapbook to discover that yes they had a wonderful holiday at Kangaroo Valley last year. Thankfully I have been spared the indignity of either having to ever scrapbook or look at the finished product between that and carbon emissions I am losing my will to live.

The Coyote On High School Reunion's

2010-11-16T00:52:00.000-08:00

Last week my friend Adrian told me about going to his twenty year High School Reunion which he attended the other week. I was impressed that he was not at all concerned about what other ex-school friends thought of him now that he was all grown up. I was equally impressed that he said he found the gathering to be very uplifting and really exceeded his expectations of how the past can be left behind and new friendships can be formed in the most unlikely quarters. So the conversation got my mind working in overdrive. What if I were asked to attend my high school reunion.? Would I go? It poses an interesting conundrum since I only need to roll over in bed and, bang! high school reunion. So supposing the situation outside of the four walls of my bedroom did eventuate and I had to make the very real decision of whether to go or stay away which would I choose?. So on Sunday evening whilst having dinner for the second time with a friend from high school that I recently reconnected with since leaving school I posed the what if there is a reunion question to him. His response was that he had already attended a reunion for his form and it all went as he had expected it to. The interesting twist that he filed in my brain under, "mental note to self upon not attending a school reunion", was that for anyone who didn't attend then the rumour of what they "thought" became of that person was left to run rife. Of course being a one woman PR machine I figured I could potentially cover the dilemma of the rife rumour with a bullshit story that I had been eaten by the ghost of Leigh Bowry at an underground party in London and regurgitated as a fucked up journo that carnt even spell. But would I want that to be my legacy, a potentially dodgy rumour that would no doubt be lost in translation as was my entire high school career. So if and when the occasion should arise I will have to rethink the whole thing and for that reason my mind wanders to my wonder boy PK (see previous post) in school uniform and days when life was a lot more emotionally complicated than it is now, believe it or not.

Auto Cashier

2010-11-15T00:47:00.001-08:00

Despite the fact that in shopping centres throughout the world there are cashiers losing their jobs due to automation, umm I'm sorry but I just love doing it myself. I find myself buying smaller amounts just so I can scan my own stuff, muck about with the credit card payment thingy and generally enjoy playing cashier for at least a small part of a day. You see when I was about 17 I had to work in order to pay for my schooling so I did the only thing I was qualified to do, oh and probably still am, work at Franklin's as a cashier, aka, "check out chick". It was definitely up there with one of the most fun jobs I have ever had. Strangely I got the job through a friend from schools girlfriend and the store was nowhere near where I either went to school or lived so therefore I never had the embarrassment of having someone I knew come through my checkout so I always felt comfortable and enjoyed the job without the scrutiny of people you really don't want knowing you have such a lowly job. It was in the days when scanners were new and there was no such thing as paying by credit card or eftpos. In fact I can remember people paying by cheque and I was always impressed by how much money some people seemed to have.

Though I guess what interested me most was the string of love affairs I had with boys who also worked there part time. You know the freezer boys with those big all in one padded suits, oh the fun times, oh the freezing cold conditions at lunch time but oh the fun times and oh how I will never look at a frozen chicken the same way again. Oh okay okay get your mind out of the gutter we just played chook lotto it was harmless but not always for the chickens. The job also cemented my fetish for fresh clean new money. I am a big sucker for new money, the smell, the touch and the feeling of it in your wallet, lovely. So I guess that is why I now find myself playing check out chick at every shop I can possibly find that provides an automated check out, I speed beep my stuff and use one plastic bag per item, Fuck the Planet!. So thanks to me kissy pooing with a lot of boys in the freezer at Franklins in my youth the world is going to be sinking about 2 meters into the ocean due to my pathetic plastic bagging and lack of employment for those less fortunate students out there, umm yeah sorry about that, Not!

Note: I realise it is a little late, about twenty years too late but sorry again to the woman's azaleas that I destroyed whilst at a Franklins end of year party that I stumbled out of with a freezer boy. I recall we landed in her wonderful garden across the road. She did come out waving a broom at us and I will forever feel I blew her chance to be apart of Burke's Back yard one day so yeah sorry bout that.

Dinner = Yum

2010-11-14T03:55:00.000-08:00

I went to a lar de dar restaurant tonight that far exceeded my expectations. Although despite this fact I did find that upon receipt of ones finely crafted dinner the waiter was required to give you a full description of exactly what you were about to eat, pointed to each thing on the plate and provided commentary of the foods origin and what exactly it was. Perhaps this was par for the course when you are paying for the course, still it was good except that I was more interested in my dinner companion's conversation to listen to what I was being told, hence I am guessing I ate some piggy with a bit of pear. Umm me thinks.... Oh how I love to talk, and maybe next time I may actually pay attention to the waiter, or perhaps not.

One From The Vault - My Old Flatmates Ben & Matt

2010-11-12T01:09:00.000-08:00

I once lived in a big terrace house in Redfern in Sydney, Australia. It was huge and it was completely filled with boys. Yes and that is the main reason I moved in, boys, boys, boys. I figured if I lived with boys then there was the very real possibility they were bound to have more than enough male friends and I was right on that front in fact I was in boy land literally. I moved in very quickly as I had no time to think about my accommodation during that time in my life, it went something like drop your bags here and welcome to your new home. Apart from the boys I also loved the house it was a cavernous array of rooms and places that if you stepped in then it was possible you would find something or someone you were not expecting, and some. That house seemed to have a knack for taking care of you especially when you needed it. Take for instance the day I found an old typewriter in a broom cupboard just when I needed to knock up a resume, or the time I came across some great costume jewelery just before heading out to a fancy dress party. Of course all the things were from old flatmates past who had obviously discarded them in one cupboard or another. So I found shortly after moving in that in fact I had landed myself in party central with having unknowly moved in with two well known Sydney DJ's, Cha Ching boy jackpot, Yay! At the time I worked from 6pm till 4am five nights a week so I was used to being awake all night so when I would return from work at 4:30am or so the party would be well in full swing in the extremely huge loungroom we had. Boys! Boys! Boys!. So I would trot out of work and get fully made up again just to return home before dawn, ahh those were the days!

Without doubt living with Ben was fantastic he was comical and could certainly get the party started especially in his undies, which he had to do one night when I came bursting in the door unexpectedly with a bunch of friends and made him play songs all night not realising he was actually on his way to bed when we arrived but I could not see him from my vantage point as he was standing behind the DJ decks that were set up in the lounge room at the time. Poor pet was forced to stay awake and entertain my friends only to emerge from behind the decks after everyone had left wearing nothing more than a frown and his undies.

So I then bring you to Matt, well what can I say about Matt, executive by day, party animal extraordinaire by a zillion at night. I can not tell you how many times I saw Matt so completely on another planet from say early Friday morning through to the following Tuesday fortnight. I also can not tell you how many times I saw him face down on the lounge room floor looking like he was dead. I really felt living in that house that one day I would be living the "He died with a fallafel in his hand" dream. I also never saw Matt pay for a drink or a good time in his life I think people just kept him juiced up because he was quintessentially a party starter. Dear Matt he was a super flatmate but boy did he get blamed for everything that ever went wrong in that house from not putting out the garbage, to setting it on fire, to never washing up, and oh yes the spot of bother we had when the entire roof caved in, none of which were his fault at all. I miss those heady days of parties and boys and running down the stairs during a party to open the front grill gate to about a million young lads who watched in glee as my jacket burst open and revealed my boobies. No I didn't do it on purpose! and yes I spent the rest of the night holed up in my room listening to the male guests telling each other about the fabbie female house mate who flashed boys for no apparent reason.

So now that I have turned into a fully fledged grown up person, I think, and I believe that Ben and Matt have now also become fully fledged grown ups, I think, we are going to have a get together. Who knows what capers and hi jinx will ensue but I can tell you I have only revealed about 1% of what really used to go on in that house suffice to say if the walls could talk they would be appearing next week on The View!

It's All Over Red Rover

2010-10-30T02:03:00.000-07:00

Well another festival has come and gone, and yes you missed it. I was on first, no that is not the Abbot and Costello joke it is true I was first on the bill. I got relegated to the first cab off the rank due to a late line up change and frankly I was kind of happy about it. I had to manage the lectures this year and I really didn't want to watch the crowd swell along with my anxiety. So I got in and got it done and it was good. Not a big crowd but I was certainly happy with the amount of people who showed up and everything went along swimmingly. I really am proud to be part of the Under The Blue Moon Festival and I hope it continues for many moons to come since it is a great community get together and fun ta boot. I am not sure if I want to lecture next year, pretty much saturated my market and it might be good to just coordinate the lectures if that is possible, but I will wait to see how the fall out is after this years shin dig. I am looking forward to emailing the people I met today and I hope I can catch up with them and possibly learn a little more about their passions.

It was also a pleasure to meet Tara Moss, its good to meet another woman who also sounds like Carlotta. Though poor Tara what she doesn't realise is "I hear the train acomin its rolling round the bend and I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when I'm stuck in "baby hell" and time keeps dragging on when I hear that "baby cryin" I hang my head and cry!" Thanks to Johnny Cash for that and yes don't expect too many books out of her in the up coming few years she is pregnant and with impending doom on her door step she had better enjoy her little sojourn today because it will be the last for many moons without a reliable baby sitter and a lot of planning and to quote Spongey "Good Luck With That!.

Forgot My Password

2010-10-27T02:03:00.001-07:00

Among forgetting to do many thing I should in life I forgot my password to get into blog so hence no posts recently. So stay tuned I have a plethora to say and of course limited time to do it.

25 Year Anniversary "Bash"

2010-10-08T02:03:00.001-07:00

Hard to believe but in October 1985 the "Salon" was opened. Of course I joined the fun in 1991 as a baby and stayed for my fair share of crime and punishment for many many years. I recently popped in as is customary when one is wearing a lot of makeup and looking fantastic so as to get back to your roots and sit amongst your fellow sister. The bottom line is, "If those walls could talk" seriously they would be some damn rich fucken walls let me tell you.

Me And My Big Mouth

2010-09-29T18:21:00.001-07:00

You know if I say one more stupid thing to a near stranger and end up having a deep an meaningful due to my own "passing comments" I swear I am going to scream. In the past few weeks I have managed to get a women to tell me all about her cheating husband and his child to another lover and the latest was a women who is suffering due to the murder of her niece. Like I said I only bring it on myself, I will be silent now I swear. I do of course enjoy these moment of life, and I know people just love to talk to me as I do them but I know I am going to have a third strike, its the law of the speaking circuit I guess. Now I just wait until I do it again and you know me it is only a matter of the clock ticking down till it happens again. Yay!

I Love Technology

2010-09-18T21:32:00.000-07:00

I always dreamt of a day when you could talk on a phone that was not fixed to a wall. I also dreamt of the day that you didn't have to talk on the phone that was fixed on the wall whilst the entire family sat behind you listening to every word you said. Now you don't even have to talk, you can text, or one step even better send a photo of yourself on the toilet whilst reading the latest news on your phone and working out your GPS position. I love that my phone can tell me exactly what location I am at and how to get home if need be. I especially love it when you are millions of miles away from home and can get information about where to get milk and bread and some nice person has even posted a review on the small store you are venturing into in Ventura. It is nothing short of brilliant. I know people often say that the next generation will not understand what it was like to "not" receive a phone call but I doubt they will understand. I of course can remember a dark time when if you were waiting on a boy to call you would forgo leaving the house altogether and the cord to the telephone didn't reach the bathroom so you dare not not even take a shower for fear of missing the call. So no they wont understand and don't even get me started on taking your film to the chemist and waiting a week to get it back. Of course when you did get it back your 12 photos that you paid big bucks for all have stickers on them telling you "over exposed" like the black piece of photo paper didn't already let you know that. So cheers to all the nerds who make technology, I love yous all.

Brian Ferry

2010-09-17T03:50:00.000-07:00

Brian Ferry has a new album out. I listened to the title track off it yesterday along with the video. The song was fantastic, the video seemed like it was a rehearsal shoot for a challenge from America's next top model. So go and check it out and see what you think!

There's Something About Bob

2010-09-15T17:14:00.001-07:00

Oh and I just found out that Bob Geldof has a new album coming out in early 2011, could this mean a tour perhaps? Fantastic, someone rally the other three and we are so there.

Follow Your Convictions

2010-09-15T04:21:00.000-07:00

Yes these are wise words, "Follow Your Convictions" and they are wonderful if it not for whence they came. The other day I was walking past a salubrious jewelers when I saw a rather large picture of my one true love, Bob Geldof. I have loved Bob since I was a little girl. Initially I trotted past the store half not thinking what I had just seen was for real only to toddle back and find that in fact, yes there he was, my pin up boy Bob. I was slightly confused, in fact no I was completed fucking confused, Bob, my Bob, a pin up poster boy for Maurice Lacroix watches?, get outta here!. So I stood and let Bob's wonderful face wash over me as I read the blurb and contemplated the inexcusable price tag of a watch. Anyway I was a bit peeved over the whole thing, I have to say at the out set though that I loved Bob long before he ever did Live Aid and frankly that has never really done it for me, well it did but not because he set the whole thing up that was just just the plum really but I have always loved him for his music, yes that is right his music. I have stood at every show he has ever done in Sydney, myself and the other three fans he has here. I have stood at the Three weeds in Sydney on many occasions when nobody gave a fuck and I have crouched at his feet at the Seymour Centre when my seat was taken from me by a rather unrepentant door bitch and I have not cared that only myself and the other three were the only ones paying attention at his show at the Enmore Theatre so I think I have done my dues when it comes to Bob. So selling watches was something I never thought I would see him do but then I guess when four people are the only ones showing up to your shows then I guess a boy's gotta eat. So yes I am miffed that he appeared to be selling out but then after reading the blurb on why he was chosen because he is inspiring people to be who they want to be I thought it was brilliant. So yes Bob you have always inspired me to be who I want to be and perhaps one day an expensive time piece with the inscription, "be who you want to be" could be just what I need.

Myself and Paul

2010-09-14T18:14:00.000-07:00

The other night I had a dream that I was sitting at a big board room table having a one on one conversation with Paul McCartney. I can not recall if I was telling him that Wings may not have been the best band in the world or that "Say Say Say" was probably not lyrical genius, but I do remember I had a very old wonderful looking leather bound old book in my hands and I asked him if he wouldn't mind signing it for me. He seemed quite happy about signing it and this surprised me as I felt awkward asking him to. So I slid the book over and he opened it up with a certain amount of excitement at my asking him to inscribe it with my name. In my mind I was hoping it would be brilliant and I could fob it off to some lonely fan with money to burn. After he joyfully wrote something down he slid the book back to me and it read; "To Jodie, You are the biggest bullshit artist I have ever known, Love Paul McCartney." At that point I woke up, laughing I might add. The best part about this dream was the fact that it was in fact a dream and that subconsciously I have called myself a bullshit artist. What a classic for someone who never lets the truth get in the way of a good story. I love the way the mind works and at times even my own. One for the classic file me thinks.

Regret's I've Had A Few But Then Again Just One To Mention

2010-09-11T03:25:00.001-07:00

I was living in London back in 1993, it was a wonderful time for me I was footloose and fancy free. I was also very young and when I look back extremely lucky with the good choices I made. I lived in a great place, had loads of great friends and partied like it was 1999 each and every night of the week. I travelled every other weekend to great places like Paris and Spain and I lapped up the admiration of many many young single gents. So it was one sunny afternoon that I was strolling around London when I happened upon a sale of second hand stuff. Namely the second hand stuff was a giant pile of rubble in a shop that was actually the remains of the Berlin Wall which not long before had fallen to democracy. So I stood in amongst the rubble and contemplated buying a piece of graffiti stained rock. I held it in my hands and asked the price, I think it was about 20 quid or so and I certainly had the money but I put it down and walked out. My reason was I figured who would care about this crappy piece of rubble anyway and it would be too heavy to try and eventually haul back to Australia, if and when I ever returned. Tea chest or not I had a gazillion shoes and they were of a top priority to me back then. So it is something I regret, I should have damn well bought that piece of the Berlin Wall but I didn't, if only I wasn't so young and stupid I would now have a brilliant door stop with a fantastic conversation piece too boot and who knows how much I would get if I were to take it to the Antiques Roadshow, perish the thought.

Thank Fuck That's Over

2010-09-06T23:31:00.001-07:00

Finally someone is running the joint. It's about time. Not that they are doing much anyway but at least now we can stop hearing about it. Hopefully!

Carry On - My Love Affair With Barbara Windsor

2010-09-05T03:20:00.000-07:00

Everyone has a dirty little secret and mine is a love affair with Eastenders. I have had it all my life ever since the ABC used to play really old back dated episodes of Eastenders teasing Australians that we were any where near up to date with the show. Of course that was probably when I was around my late teens and I signed up to Foxtel as soon as it was available many many moons ago because of the promise of Eastenders. So every night at 7pm I can be found indulging in my dirty little secret. I know all the In's and outs of the show and have done for as long as I care to remember. Sadly my favorite character the ye olde Barbara "Peggy Mitchell" Windsor is due to leave the series in the next few weeks and I am sad to see her go. So tonight I am indulging in a little bit of Barbara madness by watching her at her best in the early 70's with Sid James in some of the Carry On films. Now I know they are trashy but I always get a laugh out of them if not for the fact that Sid James was the epitome of dirty old man but what is most astonishing is there are 31 of these films in total. Everything from Carry on Matron to my favorite Carry On Camping. If ever there was a 1st place getter for the saying "they made a little go a very very long way" then the "Carry On" movies certainly win. So here is to you Babs you are a legend.

My Birthday in New York City

2010-08-31T03:54:00.000-07:00

I will be celebrating my birthday in NYC in the not to distant future. It is my favorite place in the world other than my beloved Sydney and frankly I have spent enough time in both cities to be an expert. The first time I hit New York I was only 21. I was so overwhelmed by the fact the place was just as I had imagined that I burst into tears as the taxi took me into Manhattan for the first time. I partied like I have never partied before and I swore then and there that I would return as often as I humanly could. Oh and yes I have, yes I have. So it comes as little wonder that I am organising a birthday bash the likes of which will send me broke for many years to come.

I am hoping to do all my favorite NY things, and then some. So I will also indulge myself by getting Buddy from Carlo's Bakery in Hoboken to make my birthday cake. I am yet to officially decide what I will be getting but suffice to say I am tossing up the flavours first, red velvet versus chocolate ganache, what to choose what to choose. I am having lots of friends come along from all sides of the globe and no doubt it will be super fun.

I have experienced every season in NY from hot balmy nights watching rap dancers do their stuff in Brooklyn to freezing my arse off in the snow on 42nd street after falling out of yet another hole in the wall with my beloved DM husband from Scotland. So I think my mid year birthday bash may see the temperatures at a pleasant stage rather than the extremes that NY is used to. I don't think I have ever been as hot or cold in any other place as much as I have in that town it is certainly a place of extremes.

Oh and the one thing I can never wait for after arriving at JFK is racing to the nearest Popeye Chicken and ordering a big heap of biscuits with ranch sauce. Now that is heaven.

Thats about all the time I would want

2010-08-26T21:38:00.001-07:00

I found this article about the ever present Madge. Frankly 15 minutes would be too much. Ho hum.

Who's Running The Joint!

2010-08-21T22:23:00.000-07:00

As of today, never a truer word has been spoken. It is now time to run amok since we are leaderless. But for how long? I feel like a child whose parents have had a fight and both walked out forgetting they left us behind. Break out the red cordial and lollies, we are officially on our own. Yay!

The 80's Are Back - My decent into a bawling mess!

2010-08-19T04:11:00.002-07:00

Well I finally got to go and see myself in the "Back to the 80's" exhibition that is on now at the Powerhouse Museum. In fact it has been on since I went to the opening in December but of course since I have basically lived a life time since then I have not had the time to go. So it was a nice cold afternoon in Sydney when I trotted down to Ultimo to check it out. I did see the exhibit when I was at the opening night but frankly I was too busy catching up with people I had not seen in many years so I didn't have time to really absorb the whole thing up close. So it was really nice to stand amongst it all. I have to say that I am quite proud to be apart of it and it all looked so fantastic and well put together so a big thanks to all those who were involved. I read every little fact and poured over every item on display. I stood in the dance party vortex room and reminisced about the "good old days" of Sydney night life and I watched the video montage of friends who did in fact look as fabulous as I remembered them. So during the video I started to bawl, and I thought of "all the people I was kissing, some are here and some are missing" as the song says. It is hard to believe that they are gone, that evil nasty disease that pretty much ripped the guts right out of the bright lights and big city of Sydney and not to mention everywhere else.

I have to say the afternoon left me a little bewildered it was like I had opened a chasm of my past that I hadn't quite ever wanted to leave behind and I really really wanted to step back in time, if not just to see those lost forever. Though if I really want to admit the truth I wanted to smash the glass of the display cabinet and steal all of those glistening club keyring passes, jump in a cab and finally be apart of the "cool" crowd. Yes that is right but alas in 2010 they will get me into knowhere but I don't care I want them but I guess I will just have to be content with admiring them from behind a glass cabinet, "the same as it ever was!" So please enjoy my little piece of the 80's through Vicky D, attached via You Tube and imagine me practicing my dance moves at my friends house and remember "Do want you want to do" because that is exactly what I have done.

Miss Lord Byron

2010-08-19T04:11:00.001-07:00

I emailed you, did you get it???? Let me know, cant wait to hear from you....

Teeth White But Oh The Pain

2010-08-11T16:04:00.000-07:00

Vanity has yet again determined my pain threshold and I have ventured into the world of professional teeth bleaching. My first foray into this world of white was quickly followed by an agonizing day of holding my face as I screamed in teeth zinging hell. A few weeks on and a few more visits to my dentist and I am now getting strangely addicted to the whitening process. Oh dear god where will it end. I am now obsessed with looking at peoples teeth and working out where they rate on the white scale. So be watching for a freak like me to be over analysing your teethy pegs any time soon k.

Lord Help The Mister That Comes Between Me And My Sister!!

2010-07-15T03:44:00.000-07:00

You know I really want my sister Tamara to marry Michael Buble and frankly that wasn't going to happen whilst her boobies were taking a vacation to her knees. Interview after interview she was all tricked out under her clothes but her boobies were west ward ho. So like the good sister I am and because she is the beauty in this duo I told her so and it was get thee to a proper bra shop pronto, see that is my Italian right there. So off we trotted and the result can best be admired via You Tube. Oh those boys from Temper trap no doubt where all askew and bedazzled by Tamara's wondrous ways and no doubt her wonder bra. Good on you sister, see no surgery required! Now if only I could work out a way to post you a link, will work on it and then you to can be the judge of boobies ahoy!!!!

On Holiday

2010-07-14T01:28:00.001-07:00

Oh dear it seems my beloved readers that I have been on holidays. Actually it isn't really a holiday it is just that I have been devoting my time to other writing projects at the moment. All is well except for the lovely Mattia. As it turns out he had a barney with his team and is no longer riding in this season's round. Probably a good thing since he has spent the season picking gravel out of his arse. So whom am I going to oogle at now. I guess its back to watching the boy across the road. If only I knew what band he was in, I could no doubt use my friend google. Still a first name might be an idea, time to boil up some lemon butter me thinks......

Oh Mattia!

2010-05-23T17:14:00.000-07:00

Last night Mattia rode at Le Mans in the next round of the Moto 2. So I set myself up ready to watch him and was initially disappointed that he started 31st on the grid. Still not one to be deterred I thought well yes it would take a miracle to get a place, but he can do it. But oh no, poor Mattia ended up as he has done for a few of the past races sliding through the gravel on his arse. I was impressed that he got up and hugged the Japanese rider that he also took with him on his bum slide, but seriously Mattia, I am losing hope stop sliding on your bum and start winning k. Still I can't complain since the TV coverage did show him dusting himself off and hugging other said rider so all was not lost.

Good Bye Carmen

2010-05-21T15:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my good friends mother died. Carmen was a little Chilean woman who always welcomed me into her big rather loud Spanish home with love and affection. She always treated me in later years like I was the prized daughter who was returning from far off distant lands of opportunity looking like a movie star that just rolled in to say a quick hello then would be off again to some fabulous place far removed from who I once was. I loved that she thought I had become someone special and I dare not tell her that in fact I was still the same Jodie just a little older, wiser and with better clothes and a car. Carmen's command of English was something she never really came to terms with no matter how long she lived in Australia and last night whilst visiting my friend to grieve her mother I reminded her of a classic Carmen faux par. Once whilst visiting her she told me about how she had been on a picnic to a fantastic beach that she was taken with. Oh she said it is called Avocado beach. I looked at her and asked where is this Avocado beach I have never heard of it, and she told me the location and I thought erm yes I think you are referring to Avoca Beach. I never corrected her about it because it was cuter to hear someone refer to it as Avocado Beach. She was also famous for asking us if we wanted any Melon Water, we would all just nod yes having no idea what she was about to serve us only to be relived when she would come out with watermelon. She was the matriarch of a very large brood of girls and I always admired that despite the fact she was ditsy and almost burnt the house to the ground one night because she left an electric blanket switched on draped over the leather lounge which caught fire she had managed to raise a lot of children, who were decent respectable people. I will miss Carmen she was a lovely woman who deserves to be home where she felt at peace. She left Australia for a holiday a few weeks ago in her home town in Chile and it is there that today she will be laid to rest. Goodbye Carmen I will miss you.

Me As Ziggy Twice!

2010-05-20T04:10:00.000-07:00

Of course the genius of Mr. Stuart Garske is how I managed to pay homage to Ziggy Stardust in my own back yard. Yes he did the makeup, direction, photography and diva dealings on a photo shoot at my house. I love this photo, and yes it is me the one and only Jodie Coyote. If you want to find out more about the wonderful and talented work of Stuart then go to his website listed below though this photo speaks volumes for his genius not to mention how big my lips look, fabby huh? almost makes me want to go and stick a honkin huge needle in me face - erm how bout no.

The Cute Boy Across The Road

2010-05-19T03:30:00.000-07:00

Yes I have a cute boy that lives across the road from me. Thank God because life would be boring if it weren't for things like this. As far as I'm aware he has lived over the road for a while and for that while I have enjoyed seeing him come and go. If I were younger and without responsibility I might just whistle at him from my vantage point of the front veranda but alas I am content to admire him as he walks to and from work and has jaunts to the local milk bar for cheap toilet paper. All I know of him is that he probably plays in a band at the weekends as he sometimes walks up the road on a Friday night with his guitar slung over his shoulder, very cute, and does not return till the dark hours of the morning and is privvy to using nasty no name tp. Of course the mystery like most things would be crushed if I found out he plays banjo for the local RSL band or worse the police marching band. So for the meantime he is my afternoon delight minus all the delight and despite the fact that I would rather die than use cheap toilet paper I am willing to overlook this terrible flaw if only to admire from a distance. Hallelujah to clear windows and going to get the mail!!!!!!

Maturity

2010-05-16T05:02:00.000-07:00

Rarely do I meet anyone under the age of 40 who I think has any degree of maturity and then even most of them are retards in this area in one way or another. In fact it is a word that doesn't exactly conjure up images of Gen Y at all, in fact Gen X ain't far beyond them either, and don't get me started on the Baby Boomers. When I was growing up people older than me were most often than not my friends and they were forever telling me how mature I was for my age. Of course when you are going to hit 38 nobody says you are mature for your age anymore unless they are referring to the way you look in which case you would probably dislike them very much. So I am glad that I am finally getting older in my calender age in order to reflect how I have often felt in terms of my maturity and that is somewhere around 50. It isn't that I don't feel young, I do, but I've always had a level head and made sound decisions even if some of them were not exactly wise they were never particularly stupid and immature and certainly none of them made me hope that one day I would be mature.

Which brings me to my point being my friendship with a young 22 year old who is actually mature and not like her contemporaries in the Gen Y world. It is refreshing to meet a young person who is not texting whilst talking to you at the same time and who understands that music did not begin with Usher and end with 50c. She writes a blog which I will post a link to and I hope she keeps writing because it is cathartic and perhaps some of my more mature minded and aged readers can share their thoughts with her.

Cold Feet Or A Midsummer Nights Dream

2010-05-15T05:41:00.000-07:00

As boring and old age pensioner as this sounds I hate getting cold feet. Though what I loath more are people who say that winter is better than summer because you apparently can get warm easier than you can cool off, therefore making Winter the best time of year, apparently. Well perhaps they would like me to slip my freezing cold feet up their arse this winter. I lay in my bed, fully clothed by 2 sets, flannelet sheets, doona and quilt, electric blanket, sox, a 37 year old man and sometimes my dressing gown and still it can take me ages to go to sleep as my feet are literally frozen.

So those who love Winter why the fuck are their so many more interesting things to do in summer than there are in Winter huh? Outdoor movies, outdoor sports, outdoor dining, outdoor anything, late night dips and the sweet smell of a big southerly buster to cool off. Frankly it is a fact that more people die in Winter than they do in Summer and that is all I need to convince myself I am not the crazy one. I also only need to look to Shakespeare, he didn't write A Midsummer Nights Dream only to be changed to A Mid Winter Nights Nightmare In Cold Feet Fucking Hell did he? I rest my case.

P.S. And no skiing does not count as "Winter Fun" moreover it is worse than cold feet, you slide around, get drenched and fall on your arse all whilst freezing to fucken death, oh yes that sounds like fun.

All Those Years Ago!

2010-05-14T05:57:00.001-07:00

With my birthday fast approaching, and with me constantly forgetting because I am getting too old to remember that its about to happen I have spent some time tonight reflecting on what was. Here I am in the above picture, I think I am about, what 17, and that is 21 years ago. The first thing that struck me was the thought of actually going out to a nightclub which now makes me want to gag. I mean I will be well tucked up in bed at about the same time that I would have been heading out the door all those years ago. I also noticed how well polished my Dr. Martins were, not surprising since they meant so much to me given the fact that I had no fucking money and had saved like a bastard to buy them. So here I am in my 20c St Vinnie's outfit, fishnets, and my oh so prized shoes which had I have been smarter I would have realised they were in fact workman's boots not stylish men attractors but then high heels "dominated" my life a few years later. The other interesting thing about this photo is the lounge, which I only just lifted my arse off a few minutes ago and lives in my house to this day looking as good as it ever did.

I would like to say that I had big hopes for my future in this photo, but I didn't. I pretty much thought I was nothing, a nobody and without a future other than factory work, at best. It is amazing how those around you can make you feel so much less than what you actually are or who you will eventually become. Perhaps it is those challenges that make you stronger, I am yet to be convinced though. If the girl on the lounge in this photo met the woman I have become I dare say she would be shocked, if not for the fact that there would not be a Dr. Martin in any part of her wardrobe and going out at night is usually only to put out the garbage.

I Want More Life - Fucker!

2010-05-11T00:16:00.000-07:00

Oh yes my favorite movie of all time - Bladerunner. Recently when I was in LA my friend Marky took me on an all expenses paid trip - free - to all the best locations where the movie had been filmed. The above picture is the fabulous tunnel which appears in the movie as Deckard is driving through on his way to the equally fantastic Bradbury Building which we also visited.

As with my second favorite film "The Warriors" I was impressed at how much the original location looked despite untouched film magic it really was as if we were actually living it. Of course if you put these locations in Japan and turned on a sprinkler and a smoke machine - bang you would be living the Bladerunner fantasy.

I will endeavour to put up the other photos but suffice to say I loved it.

The 80's Are Back!

2010-05-10T03:34:00.000-07:00

I have wanted to post some pictures for a long time and was having issues - now I'm not so expect a flood. This photo was taken in December last year 2009 at the 80's are back exhibition opening night at the Powerhouse Museum. Of course Stuart and I were the best dressed at the party and morphed back to the 80's with ease. Funnily enough we had been in a rush to put the finishing touches on our look and didn't get a photo of ourselves before we left the house. Luckily a Gen Y at the party was running about taking photos for Twitter and got this great shot of us looking very Sigue Sigue Sputnik - shot it up baby!

Oh Mattia!!!

2010-05-10T03:31:00.001-07:00

Here is a picture of my Mattia - love those white pants my love. I know, I know he is a baby with perfect eyebrows and probably weighs less than my left leg but boy can he ride a bike. Yes I could snap him like a twig between my thighs but I think that is the point right?

Lara Who Is Blue!

2010-05-10T03:04:00.000-07:00

I think if I hear one more story about Lara Bingle I am going to scream in fact I will scream so loud they will hear me on the moon or at least in Russia. Frankly we are all aware that she is a nobody but be that as it may she still managed to get onto the news yet again tonight despite the fact she dumped poor old Maxxy Markson today - umm who is kidding who on that front good work Max you publicity guru you. So tonight we were told she is telling anyone who cares, and that appears to be the general public, that she only has three friends and is lonely after breaking up with her boyfriend. Well my dear all I can say is boo fucking who. Frankly who hasn't been lonely at least once and if you have a face and an arse as pretty as ye olde Bingle then you really have nothing to complain about. If you can't get out and get yourself a few more friends and a new BF as they say then running to the six o'clock news ain't going to get you friends. Paying for a few might though. I am always horrified at how non news worthy stories get to air. Of course channel 9 then backed up the Bingle story with the fact that Bono is turning 50 today. Now I am a massive Bono fan but him turning 50 and Lara only having 3 friends does not news make.

So in honour of what news should be I hope the Gen Y's at channel 9 can be called upon to see what happened in 1985 when Bob Geldof turned on the "news" and saw what was happening in Ethopia and tried to do something to help. It gave U2 their finest moment, bad leather pants and all. So if you have never seen this concert footage imagine how amazing it was in 1985 and how it impressed upon me the importance of what "real" news reporting can and should be about how a news story changed the world in 1985 though regrettably not forever. So Bingle join RSVP and Channel 9 think about what is really important in news reporting.

Ciao Magazine

2010-05-09T04:43:00.000-07:00

I was recently interviewed for "Ciao" magazine. The interviewer was not particularly good and I had to really struggle to get what avenue she was taking the story in. Turns out a "swinging" direction. Although the swingers article is boxed in the middle of the "goth" article it is rather disconcerting. Oh well such is life. As for kids being vampires as if I would know I haven't been out of the house after 6pm for years let alone in the middle of the night. So my take on being a teenage vampire is slightly skewed since I have absolutely no fucking idea. Still parents would not be thrilled by their kiddies taking on this subculture and as for that I guess it is interesting, still so is sitting in a "huge jacuzzi" at the "lotus club" apparently!!!!!! Eeekkkkk

Suddenly 38!

2010-05-09T04:25:00.000-07:00

Firstly let me apologise for my last post - "Get Thee To A Nunnery" I was in fact testing my blog and accidentally posted it - it meant nothing it wasn't a cryptic crossword on my count it was merely me trying to work out how to add a web address or photo as I was able to do it easily and then it all got too difficult so please just disregard it as codswallop.

So I am going to be 38 in a few weeks. I feel as though I am finally catching up to the way I have always felt in my mind, more mature than my actual age. Last night I caught a little of the movie, Suddenly 30. It got me to thinking about what I would change if I were to go back to when I was 13 years old and it was an easy answer - nothing. Of course I would buy shares in Microsoft, patent the name Goggle and start working on big selling ideas like children's themed birthday parties, and heaven forbid "scrap booking" but mostly I guess I would try and buy up most of Sydney's real estate because that is where the money would be.

Still when it comes to who I was and am personally I wouldn't want to change anything even if I was given the chance. Of course I may want to have the odd kissy poo with a few boys that I missed out on but then would they be privy to that anyway since they weren't the first time around? Who knows but it would be extreme fun to go back with knowledge and the wisdom of maturity and know that no matter the mistakes you were making it would all work out okay in the end.

Still if when I was 13 and was told that I would end up marring "that" guy from school I feel sure I would have died of heart failure and screamed - "What I am not going to marry Dave Gahan get outta here!"

So 38 here I come, I'm not afraid because I have already learnt so much and feel the future is bright - perhaps I should get some shades!

Get Thee To A Nunnery

2010-05-06T19:51:00.000-07:00

My Mattia Pasini

2010-05-02T05:11:00.000-07:00

I love Mattia Pasini - if you don't know who he is then you should tune in next to the 250cc Moto GP and see my boy ride. He is an Italian Stallion with some serious horse power between his legs. I have been following him for a few seasons and whilst he ain't no Valentino just yet he is trying hard, although today he Spain he had to return to the pits with what I guess is bike trouble. I hope his season gets better mainly so I can see him on the podium as without a place he doesn't tend to get a lot of attention therefore I don't get to see his lovely face. So go Mattia Go!

R.I.P Malcolm I Will Miss You!

2010-04-08T19:39:00.000-07:00

I loved Malcolm McLaren - for everything - he was a legend. I will miss him.

Lou Reed's A Cunt!

2010-03-26T03:30:00.000-07:00

Hey I'm back - this one is a quickie, literally, but I knew the title would evoke emotion, if not to get you to turn away from your screen. The reason for my outburst, well frankly Lou Reed likes to think he is the be all and end all when it comes to being "alternative". Put simply he has not had a hit in over twenty years and the only place anyone ever hears of him is on WSFM and that is bad enough. Velvet Underground Who? Would be the general response from anyone under the age of 40.

I mean yes he wrote "Walk on the wild side" but nobody ever listens to the lyrics because if they did they would have banned the song long ago on radio and we would have been saved from then having to endure Lou's take on everything slightly left of centre. So why the rant on poor dear old Lou. Well every time he is interviewed he acts like he is wanting to slash his wrists, that the perils of being on "artist" are so hard to bare that he can and will refuse to be anything but tortured.

Personally I think he needs to look to toward the one true god of "alternative" and there is only one - David Bowie. Yeah Yeah Yeah Lou you were part of the New York underground scene, blah blah fucking blah, so was Joey Ramone but you didn't see him acting like a spoilt brat. So I come to the end of this blog to inform you that I just read that dear old Lou and his zimmer frame will be greeting us in May for the Vivid Live Festival at the Opera House, Reed as I have read will be "playing improvised soundscapes described as an endurance test of noise" inspired by the infamous 1975 album Metal Machine Music.

Oh please stab me repeatedly with a fucking pitch fork to the side of my head as this is a better alternative and a possible real test of my endurance to see how much blood would piss from my head as opposed to the blood which would piss from my ears if I were forced to listen to Lou do anything "improvised". Is this for real - Oh yes indeedy it is my friends. Hopefully it will be free because if you paid for this trite I guess you get what you deserve. Perhaps a nice big sign with the fab line "But she never lost her head, even when she was giving head" would be appropriate in my blood spurting due to head wound script glory. Or maybe not.

Back From My Hiatus

2010-01-26T16:05:00.001-08:00

I know - a holiday or a hiatus - either way I am back to blogging. So stay tuned for more adventures or for the most boring ride of your life.

The 80's Are Back

2009-12-08T22:49:00.000-08:00

Oh yes they are! The 80's that is and I am going back there myself on Saturday night. I will write more when I have time suffice to say I am apart of the new exhibition which opens this Saturday night at the Powerhouse Museum titled "Back to the 80's or something like that. Of course I was interviewed for the sub-culture section of the exhibit under the heading of Goth. What I should have been under the heading of was young, silly and unable to maintain a decent hairstyle and due to being the town freak had to avoid being piffed with oranges. Still I am most interested to see how my interview came out and if it is crap then I will have to spend the next year camped outside the Museum lest anyone I know should see the bloody thing. In the meantime I am giving you all a heads up - there are some pretty fantastic early photos of me circa 80's which may be on display so get in early and check them out. Okay I will enlighten you all soon with more 80's antics and the stories of the big opening night where in my current state let's just say more than one person will be enjoying Pseudo Echo other than me in a most fat manner.

For Some Reason?

2009-12-02T20:02:00.000-08:00

I have written a number of blog posts via my word program and now I can't transfer them across. So the last post came up with nothing. Stay tuned I will have it sorted and there will be lots of fun new posts. I hope.

Depeche Mode - Concert Review 2 - August 17th

2009-12-02T00:37:00.000-08:00

Oh Dear Dr. Edelsten Oh Dear!

2009-11-30T00:33:00.000-08:00

Firstly I know, I know I have not blogged in a while - but I have a sick note if you want it. Still nothing is more sick than a 66 year old man getting hitched to a 26 year old woman. Having said that I just love a gold digger and ain't she something - oh and riddle me this, why is it that men who marry these woman always tend to dye their hair a very peculiar shade of dark. Frankly Geoff it is obvious that you are not the colour you once were, but then again I don't think your baby bride was born a platinum blond either so you at least have hair care in common. Strangely I always felt Dr. Edelsten had always bitten off more than he could chew, lets face it, his idea of building million dollar medical centres throughout the western suburbs of Sydney during the 80's was doomed to failure, opulence in the face of adversity - now there's a winner.

I can remember as a child being taken to one of these lavish looking medical centres with its smokey gold mirrored glass lined walls, pink Cadillac parked in reception and a baby grand piano for sick patients to tinkle the ivories on whilst they waited for service. I was running a fever when I was taken and I truly thought I had died and ended up in Za Za Gabors lounge room. The sad fact was all this over the top looking crap did little to help the poor old Doctor when he felt the need to have his "problems" sorted out by none other than "Christopher Dale Flannery" or Mr. Rentakill or as I like to refer to him as "Mr. Rentadill" and for that he was struck off the medical register in both NSW and VIC forever. Strangely he has managed to come up with 3 mil for a wedding - well, well, well - my drawn on eyebrows are ever pointed skyward at this conundrum - we haven't heard from him in what 25 years, he doesn't practice medicine anymore and has no visible means of income. Hmmmm Interesting.

One From The Vault

2009-11-08T00:51:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Peter this afternoon I will now have this song rolling around in my head for days. Maybe even months. Still it's an oldie but a goodie - so get blacked up and get those tap shoes ready - mind you do the black up part in private or you will get into more trouble than starting a war in a country that can't possibly beat you - k. "Remember it's only a laugh no harm done"

3am - Eternal

2009-11-07T00:25:00.000-08:00

Oh yes those crazy dreams keep a comin - Last night I found myself in charge of a rather large factory cafeteria. The fact that I have never worked in either a factory nor a cafeteria seemed to matter little to my over dreaming brain. Strangely as with the recent dreaming patterns it made no sense what so ever but what made me laugh at the usual 3am when I woke up was the fact I remembered that I was being instructed to try and work out prices for the meals as the cafeteria was a "subsidised" cafeteria for the staff. Meaning they get the food cheap. My main concern during the dream was serving the potato mash via an ice cream scoop which I always think is rather 1970 local RSL but simply screams "cheap". I don't know how my debut into the world of catering actually went but suffice to say I hope I don't find myself in that position in the future. I mean what would I do the dilemma would always be "should I use real potato or fake Deb/Potato whip" - God the choices the choices.

Oh and if you do find yourself awake at 3am - please remember to sing this song - I certainly do.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXEOESuiYcA

LA - Concert Reviews + Blade Runner - Still to come.....

2009-11-06T01:03:00.000-08:00

Look at the above happy face - yes Coyote in LA = happy. Coyote with 60kg of luggage due to shopping extravaganza = even happier. Coyote business class all the way complete with diva tantrums at Qantas check in staff = unhappy. Coyote meeting and having luncheon with Sally Savalas the late Telly's wife as a result of extra day's stay in LA due to diva tantrum at Qantas check in staff = another chapter in my book.

So I will review the last two concert's, my unabashed love of all things Blade Runner plus my confusion regarding the Getty Museum soon. Oh the fun of it all.

Strange Days Indeed - Most Perculiar Mumma

2009-11-06T00:38:00.000-08:00

For the past few weeks I have been inundated with strange dreams. No surprise given the rush of hormones I am experiencing - what with my final transformation into realising my dream of being a man - oh no that's right it's my "I am a 35 year old female hormonal beard" I have always wanted. But I digress, the state of my dreaming has verged on an LSD trip infused with a few tokes of a serious crack pipe. Take for instance last night's dream - here I was back at the Petersham Roller Rink walking up the stairs to the skate hire section - which I would never have done since I owned my own skates. Still I was walking up the stairs when a black panther - the cat - not the black political group - latched onto my left arm and started to chow down. It didn't seem to hurt that much and I thought it might be wise to try not to make a giant fuss of this rather large animal now hanging from my arm. So up the stairs I go - Black Panther in toe. Then a man standing at the top of the stair case informs me that I have a Black Panther attached to my arm. In stellar comedic form I say to him "No shit Sherlock" and stand still for a bit then the guy tells me that if I make any sudden movements I will lose my arm as the Panther will rip it off so my smart arse response back is "Well thank fuck its my left arm and I don't need it as much as my right" At that point I start to laugh my head off - waking me up to my own laughter - lol I might add at 4am in the morning.

Strangely this is not the first time I have laughed myself awake from dreaming. On one such occasion I had a laughing fit that lasted for about two days after dreaming of a Koala bear which had attached itself to my arse. Frankly it still makes me laugh to even remember that dream - but my boss at that time never found the amusing side of me having to excuse myself from meetings with tears of laughter and the lame excuse that I was laughing at a very funny dream I'd had. Poor pet I guess he just had to be there.

This Is It

2009-11-02T00:26:00.000-08:00

Today I went and saw the Michael Jackson film "This Is It". I thought it showed exactly how brilliant he really was. "Talented" is not a big enough word for the type of performer he was. No doubt other two bit "performers" should take note of the fact he was always able to sing and dance and to be honest frankly even in track suit pants and a mismatched shirt he still danced better than the professionals standing behind him who appeared to be practically dancing for their dear lives whilst he simply "ran through the moves" in order to rehearse and still managed to out dance the lot of them. So to any critic who found it easy to be nasty in regards to his personal life I doubt any of them could possibly disagree that he was the consummate professional and was completely capable of presenting the best concert experience I for one have ever seen and no doubt will ever see again.

The Carnival Is Over - Or At Least This Year's Festival Is

2009-11-02T00:11:00.001-08:00

On Saturday I gave my annual lecture on early Sydney Crime at the Under The Blue Moon Festival. I have to say I always think nobody is going to show up to hear me but I was pleasantly surprised with yet another full house. The day was all sunshine and happy which is of course every Goth's nightmare. I thought with the pleasant weather for the first year in a while the kids may opt for walking the mile and ignoring indoor pursuits but I should have known better. Inside is always better than outside when you are teetering around in a corset, high heels and more make up than Liza Minnelli at Derby Day.

So it was that I presented my 45 minutes+ to what appeared to be a rather appreciative audience. I did laugh to myself when I was given the 5 minute wrap up signal to get off and I realized I had a bit more on my topic to complete. Hence forth I then went into a crack induced coma and spoke at 5 billion miles an hour in order to finish and I have no doubt the audience was thinking I was off my rocker - I certainly felt it at the time trying to get my story finished. Still there is nothing like a Benny Hill ending in fast pace to make you laugh to yourself later on - oh and laugh I did. As always the staff at Simplicity and the festival organisers were professional and kind and I find it a privilege to be offered the opportunity to speak at what is now shaping up to be a very large and well attended festival.

Special thanks to my two nerd boys Marky and Chris for my slide show and music - without them I am nothing. Though they do tend to look after their "talent" quite well including diva tantrums and not listening to technical instructions.

So all in all a fantastic day and a lovely evening of watching "choobs" march herself up to the neighbours place in a pink tinsel wig complete with plastic black cape and pumpkin headband to be presented with trick or treat Halloween lollies that I had dropped off earlier for her arrival. Unfortunately no children came knocking for trick or treat which was a pity for them because I was forced to eat about 100 or so lolly snakes as a result later in the evening. Yum.