Blah Blah Blah
Friday, July 04, 2008
Toupees are always absolutely awesome to look at. Especially when the remaining hair on specific head does not match the foreign hair on head. Also especially as much when you just know the follicles are not coming out of pores, but weirdly attached to a sheath which gives off that tingly feeling of 'something isn't quite working here'.
And each and every time you see it, there's an assessment- where's the real hair? Does it work on top of the head- does it look like it's actually sprouting from the head? What about the colour matching, is there any connection?
It's just an enigma of why?
Within the same hour of seeing this toupee and saying "I'll never tire of toupees" I saw a girl carrying a mouse in a box. It's great that there is this whole sub culture of women who love carrying dogs in handbags, today I even saw a dog in a special dog stroller and it's fantastic that teenagers can get in on the act with mice. It's like little kids have mini handbags and fake lipstick. Dolls as babies. Now mice carry-alls are part of the scene.
But what was she trying to prove? That she's a 14 year old who's prepping herself for the dog in the handbag market? She was with her mates and her mouse. Was she aiming for strength in number?
I used to know a Rabbi who wore a toupee. We joked that he never really had to wear a kippah. But we also wondered why he cared so much? Why did he do it? We could see at the back there was a disconnect between the salt and pepper of the toupe and the salt and pepper of his hair. We couldn't see a scalp but he did do a good matching of making it look liked it sprouted out of his head. But every time I saw the Rabbi, I never got tired. I loved seeing if he had gotten newer ones to match his progressively graying real hair.
I'll never tire of any other toupee I see. The ridonculessness of what they're trying to prove is of mythical proportions and the amazement of seeing them think they can pull it off is fantastically laughable.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
The laws, which operate until the end of July, have the potential to make a crime of wearing a T-shirt with a message on it, undertaking a Chaser-style stunt, handing out condoms at protests, riding a skateboard or even playing music, critics say.
You have to love Australian common sense
Who doesn't love to laugh at a Catholic?! Well, I know Christians are even funnier. But I love how the country knows this and wants to protect them. So very cute.
Security of whoever these fucks are, just know people are going to go round the city and terrorise these little Catholics. And if the security officers aren't anal retentives, they are going to try their very best not to laugh.
I just hope there is none on that tazering bullshit that you see in the U.S. If people let a little crazy over a graphic on a t-shirt, that would be a good time to take a step back and reassess.
Friday, June 20, 2008
I have recently come into direct, including eye contact, with:
An amusing opening for cash
Walking to get some sliced mango on an extremely Changi-like night:
I love it when the homeless people add their 2 cents. This has been my favourite:
Random guy on a walking stick
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Why do they seek the need to really and truly stick their nose in something, when really, no one asked, no one was wanting and to top it off- you've come in at a point, missed the story and again: no need.
Some incidences have occurred:
- On the weekend, it was ridiculously hot. Wore the bikini/dress combo because it was seriously Changi Prisoner of War Camp HOT. So hot, that I even tucked my dress a little into my kini bottoms to make it a little shorter and hopefully cooler. Some nut makes every effort to get some other nut to tap me on the shoulder and get my attention. Bless her. She wanted to tell me my dress was tucked in my undies. "Lady", I say, "do you know how fucking hot it is?? This is deliberate."
- Take 2: I went to see the Biennial at the Whitney. The shenanigans that day were very fun. Contemporary art is fucking boring unless you interact. I interacted to the point of reaching hyperactivity and hysteria. One piece was a book glued to the floor. The security on duty, was ON it. Really. I say to my friend " 'oly Shit. Someone has left a book on the floor and no one, like NO ONE, is picking it up. Disgusting."
A dyke, from a pair of dykes, turns to me and says "Ummm, it's part of the exhibition". I do my non-sensical, are you 'fucked in the head', 'you're a butchy dyke aren't you?' look, wait a little and then go "....ohhh. Ok". Then do the eye moves and ask the guard if I could open it. He says to me, if I want to read it that I should go to the library and borrow it. Spunky, but annoying. Then he wanted to talk about Australia. Weird. Usually people think it's British. He was all round, impressive.
- Gone to Macy's. NEVER go to Macy's. It's an awful place. I commented to my partner in crime that day, that Starbucks is the largest public toilet network in the world and that we just passed one of two in Macy's. She comments that Starbucks is visual abuse and where is there not a Starbucks? Some lady walking past shares with us that the Starbucks is right over in the corner behind us. WTF? I don't want to know. Did anyone ask you?
Interesting no? People like to go out of their way for useless information. For something you need....forget it.
Other highlights this week: Got totally drenched in a torrential storm after Death Cab for Cutie concert. Sweet. I say, better to get all wet than be half assed. It paid off. I even lost a thong (as in the shoe) running away from the eye of the storm...heavy duty.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
And after I decided that the UWS wasn't for me and began the search downtown, things started to get a little hazy. Potentials included....
- A witch. Really. With feathers and candles and crap everywhere.
- People listed "semi private alcoves" and Being John Malcovich style living
- One sent me a fucking great email, I still have it:
"I share a one bedroom with a friend. Rule is no sex in the apartment, well that was until I came home and found my roomie with my boyfriend, in bed together..."
And i've heard some fucking crazy stories from friends and their flatmates' habits
- Doesn't clean out kitty litter and concurrently does not open any windows
- Never leaves their room
- Doesn't talk
- Requests no interaction over the weekend
And it's not like anyone gives a shit. It's all about making your own rules and how it works for you even if it impacts another person in their own small living space. It is bizarre. No external consideration or respect.
I thought my own flatmate was having trouble with the 'adjustment period' in to our apartment. But now I know there is no understanding about how to live in a shared household. I don't care if she reads it, she is going to get it.
- uses a roll of toilet paper A DAY! I work from home and use about 12 squares a day. I did a test the other week with 3 ppl. It took us 3 days to get through it! I don't know what the fuck she is doing with that thing. Was there some memo I missed? It must have been on the same memo as why girls spend so long in the toilet because I didn't get that one either!
- Leaves crap in the sink, dishes all over the house, never wipes down the benchtops and just shit everywhere. Who the fuck does she think makes it disappear? Her mother doesn't come over and do it for her.
- Lights on! Hey, we're in massive global warming and it's just a waste financially and again resourcefully!
- Hair residual in the shower catchment thing. Fucking gross
- And then there was one time she used my toothpaste. It would be completely ok if she asked, but she made sure she put it back in the same position that I had, but I knew, just knew she was using it through my own clever analysis.
During the using toothpaste period, she was ranting at how she knew her last flatmate was going into her room and taking/using stuff like her underwear (well, she wins on that one, that is insane). I decided to invent a story for her which basically implied don't use my toothpaste without asking: "Hey, it's ok if you're using my toothpaste, but I just want you to know that my dentist told me I should have my own toothpaste because I have this contagious bacterial condition on my gums"...I never got to do it, because finally she got her own. It would have been awesome.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
It is a city of everything and surprisingly a city which has been further defined by a TV show. A show which seems to validate ridiculous behaviours and attitudes.
Sex and the City women aren't really like our famous 4 protagonists. No one here really dresses that well and real SATC women are older, dress in short skirts and low cut tops. They often frequent bars and clubs, when really, they shouldn't be because the people in the bars are much younger than they are. They believe they are power women, when really they should just have more taste.
Some people call them bag ladies because they always have designer label bags. I like that, but they are so moronic that SATC fits them better.
But, there is a new kettle of fish too. They are even more prominent than SATC wenches. MySpace Skanks and 'hos are very young girls with impeccable bodies but who reveal too much skin. They talk in that annoying way "So yeeahh, I was like, so totally into it", they are fucking brainless and update their mySpace pages every 4 minutes. They're eye candy to the point of disbelief, but tacky.
Almost polar opposites but equally as ridiculous as the other. The city seems to run rampant with these 2 species and then the rest of us sandwiched in the middle, try to avoid them at all costs.
The worst part is that the 2 kinds are promiscuous. Very promiscuous and give all women a bad name. I also find that these 2 have extrapolated story lines from a tv show and manufactured them into a way of life. These women have infected men to almost legitimise their whacked habits.
I'm not buying it. And I often find myself lamenting at the horror that my own life could become a sex and the city cliche. It's fucking awful.
I could bitch and moan about the stories, but that would be lame. Exposing the horror of disaster after disaster. I'm not going there.
Instead I think I'll manufacture some tshirts.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
You know those dicks who say "I don't watch TV" or even "I don't own a TV"? When clearly there are some excellent shows on the air these days that are worth watching. Shows that actually entertain and enrich your life in some way. AND clearly these people have to watch some TV at some time or another. I just don't buy it. Even if you don't watch TV as such - at the specified time on the specified channel, you're going to download it or buy the pirate in Thailand or something.
Well someone just took it to the next level:
"I'm trying out that new lifestyle where I don't read magazines or newspapers. EVERYTHING is online!"
Sorry but that is just so gay (not gay as in homosexual, but gay as in lame!). The words "i'm trying out that new lifestyle" seriously irk me. What fucking lifestyle? And there is some implication that some authority dictated this new way of life. Please, it's not a way of life it's a preference.
It reminds me of the time someone said "Are you going to that conference that EVERYONE has been talking about?"
Everyone? Who the fuck is everyone? And why do I care about some boring conference where people postulate and gesticulate over total bullshit? I'd rather talk to the homeless midget on the corner. He probably has something more interesting to say than a bunch of wankers who don't watch TV, read newspapers and certainly don't touch a magazine!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Whatever... I'm bringing it back with a vengeance!
Be prepared to watch this space...
In the meantime: An introduction to Ivy Brown.
This little lady is the shit!
I met her at her gallery in Meat Packing.
She is friends with Banksy. She knew Leigh Bowery.
She is a fucking power house of great story and adventure and makes a great ice tea too.
I will definitely be interacting with Ms Brown again and she even said she could hook me up with Banksy!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Sydney was glorious.
Had horrendous jetlag. I totally fucked up my non jet lag strategy and got lumped with a week of no sleep. This is what happens when you get 4 seats to yourself. You spread yourself out. You lay down. You make the most of it.
So, the time I was meant to be awake, the last leg of trip, I was fast asleep. When I got back to New York in the afternoon, I screwed up the sleeping pattern for the rest of the week because I'd basically slept for 18 hours and was still on AU time.
Had a couple of other interesting experiences
- The security guy in Australia was fantastic. I had some contraband in my hand luggage- a jar of some chilli paste and he let me take it through. He hid it under my jumper, cleared my bag and told me not to let anyone see because there were cameras and he would get in massive trouble. So awesome a security guy. I'm his biggest fan
- Why did no one tell me you don't have to take your shoes off at security any more? I felt like such a 'tard.
- I flirted and smiled with every security/airport person on the way through except one fucker in L.A. I was basically in transit and there's one guy checking 300 passports and tickets. It's irritating and inefficient. All these disabled people cut in front of me and I'm not impressed. I'm tired and just want to put my shizz down. When it's my turn, I don't even look at the guy, I just wait and he asks for another form of I.D. because my photo isn't clear enough. WHAT?! I've had my passport for 8 years, been around the world, and all of a sudden it isn't good enough for you! It just shows that flirting works.
In the end, I made it and thanks again Qantas for ripping my bags. We're going to have another 6 month saga, so bring it on!