Fathers day blog

Today is fathers day. I thought I'd share a conversation I overheard whilst waiting for a bus on Friday night.

Friday, 9.10pm, Railway Square, mobile phone conversation , surfer dude chatting:

"Nah I haven't been surfing for about two months.................Yeah, I think so..............I thought I'd come up on Sunday.......yeah, I know its Fathers Day................Ya wanna get stoned together?..............great, cya then................OK, bye Dad"

Who says the parents are to blame!

This is the week that was

Its been over a week since my last foray into the blog world. There are many reasons for this but the main one being that I've been far too lazy and busy to keep up. My life is a one social event after another and my dance card is full to overlflowing!

Saturday, I went out to Pollys club. You may remember I went to Pollys for the first time about 10 weeks ago and won a wine cooler fridge. It was their annual do so it was all glam. The standard bi-monthly gathering is held at Marrickville Town Hall. Thats right...a town hall.


Marrickville Town Hall

There were probably as many people there, say around the 500 mark. Long tressle tables stretched out in a Hogwarts dinner hall style covered with paper table cloths. Not even individual table cloths but more the table cloth on a roll type. The bar is actually a serving hatch in the wall that served VB in a can or Ruskies in a bottle (bitter or Sminoff Ice). The venue is also BYO (Bring You Own) so you can get a small bucket with ice to keep your drinks cold during your stay.

I'm probably not painting a very good picture, but that said it's a really great place to go. Whilst the venue might not be that inspired, the glamour is provided by the smattering of trannies and the sounds are provided by a DJ that doesn't mix. Think 1970's school disco and you've pretty much hit the nail on the head. Still, its all for charity and good causes....


Sunday tea time I headed off to "Bump & Bowl," a gay afternoon at the bowling alley in The Entertainment Quarter. Basically a gaggle of queens show up, sort themselves into teams of eight and bowl a couple of games.



Spare!


A DJ pumps out Kylie & Madonna so that you can bop in-between goes and the full bar is only a stagger away. I'm not going to go into this to much, but suffice to say that after my first bowl I was nursing two very sore knees and a painful gluteus maximus which is still tender 4 days later. Its touch and go if I'll ever walk again.

Picture of me, never walking again

Caption Competition

Politicians here are called Poli's, cos the Aussies like to shorten any word with more than two syllables.

Kevin Rudd, the leader of the opposition party is currently caught up in a scandal as it has come to light he visited a New York strip joint four years ago. Shock, horror.

This is Kevin Rudd below............What's he saying?

............................

I'm off to the shops

Smack bang in the middle of the CBD (Downtown, the City, call it what you will wherever you are) stands the regal Queen Victoria Building or QVB as is it more commonly called.

The architect, George McRae, saw there were a great number of skilled people out of work so he delibrately designed an OTT building in the Romanesque Revival style to ensure they would all be employed for quite some time.

The building was finshed and opened in 1898 and named after Queen Vicky in her honour. For the most part is was a concert hall where you could go and see "Australias Got Talent" of the day and retire to a coffee shop afterwards.

It was almost demolished in the late 50's due to lack of care and the fact it had become an eyesore, but some clever person decided against it and in the 80's it was totally restored to it's former glory and is now a...........shopping centre.

Still. It beats Lakeside and Blue Water dunnit !

Off to The Tower

The third (and final) installment of my super-priced, tourist trap, combo ticket involved The Sydney Tower.

Built in the early 70's it is still Sydneys tallest building. It is also Sydneys most boring building (to date).




I arrived fairly earlyish in the morning and dutifully stood in line awaiting my turn. I was informed that my ticket also included a 'go' on Oz-Trek, the largest simulated ride in Australia, that takes you on an amazing virtual reality adventure across Australia's cultural history and geography. Piffle.

In reality, you are led through a line of plastic walled caves that lead you to one of those ride simulators that are supposed to make you think you are actually on a rollercoaster or in this case flying over the Opera House, soaring over The Blue Mountain or sailing over Uluru but you are actually thrown around in an electronically controlled chair where you bang your head on the safety bar as we career around the billabongs of the Darling River.

After this entertaining, thrilling and indeed enlightning cultural experience, I headed over to the lift area where I would be elevated at great speeds to the observation decks. Handing over my ticket I was asked if I had been up to the top before.

"Indeed I have" I answered.

"Well, I'm afraid you can't go up again." said the 'working during term break' student.

"Err, why?"

"Because you're only allowed to go up to the top once"

Having encountered stupid people working at the Wildlife Park last week, I realised I may have to take a different tack with this one....she was sharp!

"Let me see if I'm getting you" I say. "Any given person is only allowed up there once in their life time?"

"Oh no" she says "Only once on a ticket!"

Now we're getting somewhere I thought. "Well, I have been up to the top previously, which was your question, but that was back in 1990 and not today. Can I go up now?"

"Oh, I see....well your ticket says you've been up there today."

"Does it?" I say

"Yeah, right there is the date"

"Yes, that is the date. That is the date of purchase, that is the date today, that is the date I just wandered in off the street and swapped my combo pass for this ticket."

"Enjoy the ride!" she says over-enthustically as she allows me thru the barrier with one of those beaming to brightly "down's-syndrome smiles."

I enter the lift and whoosh at the great speed of around 1mph to the top where I can see all of Sydney below me. What a view! It's amazing!



After 1 minute and 12 seconds I had done the full circle and was kinda wishing I hadn't been allowed up there..ZZZzzzz

Chatty Chewsday

The Complaint Box Is Open (again....!)

That'll teach him!

I posted a story a couple of months back on how Sydneysiders don't wear shoes half the time. In particular one mate never wears shoes and in fact hates them.

Imagine how much I laughed the other day when I heard that after spending hours in front of the mirror making himself glamourous, he hopped in his car and headed off to a club.

Upon arrival, they wouldn't let him in as he had left his shoes at home. DOH!

Chortle ;-)

Lunch Time

About 15-20 minutes walk from work is the suburb McMahons Point. There is a particular building there that some say is the scourge of Sydney as it's pretty dam fugly. However, it probably has one of the best views ever.

I strolled down there with my grilled chicken and salad sandwich today and sat by the waters edge in 24 degree heat (75f & its mid-winter!) and nibbled on my lunch. I thought I would share the view with ya'll.

Lifes a bitch

Where did you go for lunch today?

Ding Dong The Witch is Dead. Right?

The NY Daily news ran this story the other day all about Liza (with a zee).

Whilst she was out shopping in a Manhattan Gap;

"The employee asked her, "Has anyone ever told you you look like Judy Garland?"

She coldly answered, "No!"

You'd leave it alone after that, right?

The confused employee went on to say, "Oh my God! You're her! You are Judy Garland!"

Oh. No. She. Didn't.

Ms. Minnelli looked up with fire in her eyes and snapped back, "Judy Garland is dead!"

She then grabbed the pants she had been trying on and stated to no one in particular, "I've gotta get out of here!" She made a mad dash to the registers and then out the door."

Now don't get me wrong, but if you work in Gap, you're gay right? And EVERY gay man knows that it's Liza (with a zee) that is dead and not Judy.

Chatty Chewsday

Last weeks chatty day seemed fairly popular, but it only proved that all Poms are whingers, right?

So, today, lets say summink nice. I'll even get the ball rolling.....

"I have very beautiful lips." I repeat "I have very beautiful lips" (I'm looking in the mirror saying this by the way).

Your turn.

Scenic Sundays

The Opera House was built by Danish architect Jorn Utzon. There was huge controversy at the time due to the costs, time taken etc so after a load of legal wrangling, he left the country and never saw the building finished until a few weeks ago. A lot of people say the interior was not finished to the original plans which is why so many artists dont actually like to perform here due to bad design of the artists areas. Most say it is far too cramped.


Stolen Opera House

Just this weekend, some other bloke from somewhere (I didn't catch his name or which country he is from) is stating he designed the Opera House and in fact his house is built to the same sort of plan, though smaller. I've seen the pics and it does look a lot like the Opera House He built his place in 1953....some 20 years before the Opera House actually opened.

Turns out even architects are thieving bastards as well.

Don't ask me, I only work here !

Just next to Sydney Aquarium is another one of those Tourist Trap Robbing Bastard places. This one is imaginatively called Sydney Wildlife World. Being a tourist, I bought a 'combo' ticket last week when I visited the aquarium, which gets me into three places, giving me a saving of 25 bucks!

I got to this weeks outing at about 10:10 and saw there was a talk on the Cassowary Bird (which can kill a bloke with one kick) at 10:30, so I got a wriggle on and made my way to the talk area where I was greeted by an aboriginal guy.

"G'day mate, you here for the talk?" he asked

"I am mate" I answered and sat down.

It was a very boring talk with very few facts, though I can tell you that in one of the aboriginal languages of what is now Queensland, the Cassowary is called the king of the forest. Well. There you go.

Killer bird

At the end of his 8 minute monologue he asked "Anyone got any questions?"

I was gonna ask a question about breeding when a an American lady beat me too it and basically asked the same question I was thinking of. "Do you ever breed them?"

I thought this was a good question and so did the guy doing the talk. In fact he said so right after he said "Ah, err, umm, well, ah, you see, I'm not a keeper so I wouldn't know, I'm just an interactive host, but good question."

My next question should have been "Why ask us if we have any questions when its blatantly obvious you dont know any answers?" But I didn't. I should have, but I didn't. In fact I just smiled to myself and thought "What a Looooser."

Next stop was the talk on Australian Bird-life. Ooooo, great I thought and headed up to the koala enclosure where the talk was being given. I arrived to see a young lady with a Pink Cockatoo sitting on her finger asking the question "Can anybody tell me what colour this bird is?"

I turned around and headed towards the exit. I couldn't take anymore. She was sat there with a fucking PINK bird on her hand asking people what fucking colour it was. I could barely contain myself, I was chuckling that much.

Heading now towards the exit I stopped to look at some yellow foot wallaby type thing, which was kinda interesting. Just by the exit door was a member of staff with a lizard on her arm.

"What's that?' I ask

"It's a Shingleback" came the reply.

"Oh, is it a skink?" I enquire as it looked like one.

"No, its a lizard" she replied in all seriousness.

I laughed so much, milk came out of my nostrils!

If there was an award for dumbass staff who don't have a clue where they work, this place would win hands down.

On the recommendation of Ruth, I headed over to Pyrmont Bridge which is the worlds oldest surviving, electrically operated swing bridge opened in 1902. I got to sit with the Fat Controller in his little box and he gave me a talk all about the bridge.

Open Sesame!

He obviously loves his job very much as he could tell me exactly how many yachts had passed through in the last month and could even tell me the previous month without referring to his log book. Which in fact he did do to let me know how many yachts came through the month previous to that. 39 in case you were wondering. Still, it made for a nice chat. Thanks Ruth!

The Fat Controllers Box

I rode the monorail home and watched Singin' in the Rain. Never seen it before. Never will again.

Cya !

Charity Chewsday

A mate from UK is doing some sort of run/swim/bike thing. I'm told its called exercise??

Anyway, in recognition of Chatty Chewsday, the day has been changed to Charity Chewsday. He's raising funds for sick kids with leukaemia so its all going to a really good cause.

If ya feel like donating the price of a couple of beers or even the price of a Porsche 911, feel free to click here and do ya thing If only to see a pic of Plew in his shorts. Gotta be good for a laugh if nowt else!

It's all for charity and think of the poor, poor, poor children.

Seriously though, dig deep and click here

Chatty Chewsday

Anyone piss you off recently?

Anyone been getting on your nerves?

Anyone been drinking your vodka and not replacing it?

Anyone been getting on their high horse when they should be climbing from a Shetland Pony?

Let Rip! Tell em what you really think......and you can do it anonomously if you like. I wont tell.

Vent your spleen here! .........................

Scenic Sundays

Just around the corner from where I live there's a pretty cool looking building. I like it so much, I'm gonna let you have sneak peek.





Cool huh? It's actually an old train station no longer in use. It was orignally called Mortuary Station as this was its only use. Load up the bodies of your dearly and recently departed and ship them off to Rookwood Cemetary, 15km's out west.



Maybe the train was a sleeper? Sleeper, dead...get it? Oh why do I bother!

Chatty Chewsday

This week for chatty chewsday, I thought I'd make it into a competition. A spot the difference competition. Below are two pictures of Daniel Radcliffe. Circle those bits you think are different.

Daniel Radcliffe as Harry of Harry Potter fame

Daniel Radcliffe as Alan Strang in the controversial play Equus

Answers on a post card....

Darling Harbour

Darling Harbour is a harbour. It's name has nothing to do with the overly affectations’ of the camp people who adorn it, but rather it gets its handle from one of the old Governors of NSW (Back in the old days). A Lietentant General Ralph Darling if you will.

The whole harbour and the surrounding area was 'done up' for the 2000 Olympics here in sydders and is now a riot of colour, water, shops, exhibitions, marinas, apartments and loads of tourist trappings. Its a really nice place to go for a stroll on a weekend.

It's also one of the more expensive tourist traps in sydey. I was charged a whopping $3.80 for a bottle of water that, if I could have been bothered to wait 20 minutes, while I walked to the nearest Woolworths would have only cost $1.35. Being a Brit and complaining tend to go hand in hand here. Aussies call all Brits "whinging poms" regardless of whether or not you do. With this name already given to you, you tend not to complain as much cos you dont want to playout the sterotype, so I just handed over my money and grunted in a Brit like fashion and left the "Over-priced, robbing bastard, thieving wankers shop" without saying a word.

I crossed over Pyrmont Bridge (above) which has the monorail running over it and went into a shopping mall. Just to browse. Whilst browsing I came across a pair of Levi 501's.

You may think "So what?" but let me tell you it the first time I have seen them since I arrived. NOWHERE sells them anymore and have been told on numerous occasions that "Australia is fading them out"

How can you fade out the worlds number one selling jeans? Anyway, they are the mainstay of gay fashion so I decided to buy them. That was until I saw the price of these bloody things. $190.00! Thats right. One hundred and ninety bloody dollars! I spun on my heel and walked right out of the "Tourist trapping, money stealing, wallet grabbing house of fashion" and had a Mackee Dee instead. Called Mackers here by the way.

I decided I needed something to soothe me, so I walked back across the bridge to go the aquarium. About halfway across, I saw an elderly lady (127yo or there abouts) dressed in a miniskirt, fishnets and half a boob tube. She had really really high hair. It had been teased more times than a bed wetter.

By the time I reached the aquarium, I had stopped laughing. That is until they charged me $29.00 to look at some fish. I politely paid my entrance fee to the "Water sodden, purse snatching, highway patrolling cashier" and walked in.

All said and done I walked out. It was pretty good and I spent about two hours in there. If you want to know what it was like, then send a cheque or postal order to the attention of....

Thar she blows !

Every year around this time all the whales that live in the Southern and Antartic Oceans start heading north in their annual migration to warmer waters. Up in the balmy climes, they mate and give birth to their calves with which they were impregnated with only the previous year.

Anyway, this isn't mean to be biology leasson on the Humpback, but rather a post to let you know, as they pass Sydney, I went whale watching at the weekend.

Sunday, up the crack o' dawn (Again, she didnt seem to mind), I made my way to Circular Quay for the 9am boat. It was a cold start seeing as we are in the middle of winter here and my ears were burning with cold thanks to the Pearl Harbour weather (Nip in the air).

Mermaid

The trip out to The Heads takes about 30-40 minutes. When past them, you're out in the Pacific Ocean with only water and air around you and within minutes, right off the coast of Sydders, you can see small puffs of steam in the distance.

"Thar she blows!" yelled the skipper as we loaded our harpoon. As we bore down on the hapless catacean, we took aim..........Oh alright, we never. Put your pens down and stop writing to Greenpeace!

As we approached the whales we were told there were two pods, one of two whales and the other, three. It was pretty amazing to see these creatures, tail slapping, diving, breaching. At one point after their downtime, they resurfaced, really close but on the opposite side to which we were all standing.

So close.

The sea was a bit choppy, so to see 50 people swaggering and swaying to get to the other side in a rush was a bit Keystone Cops. Trampling over one very sick chappie, who had taken refuge in the middle of the deck as that was the place rocking the least in the swell, in their efforts to get from port to starboard. Leaving said sick chappie with footprints on his arm. He skulked away below decks and spent the remainder of the voyage throwing up into a bag.

Actually, when I did venture below decks myself, I was amazed at the number of people who had been unable to cope with the boat and its motion. There was a young woman, lying down across three seats looks VERY green. A couple were clinging to each other and crying with their hands over their respective mouths trying not to be sick whilst consoling their loved one. One grandad, sitting forward in his chair with a very full bag permanently locked at his mouth.

Seriously, I thought I had walked into a M.A.S.H. unit with all the groans and wails!

Wails! Whales! Get it? Oh never mind.

High and not so dry

Pretty Polly

Saturday saw the 43rd annual party of Sydney social club Pollys.

Originally it was started as a social group that would hold small fundraisers for various charities, but now holds small fundraisers for HIV charities only. They meet every three months or so in Marrickville Townhall. Glamourous, however Saturdays affair was held at The Roundhouse at Sydney University.

We had a table of ten of us, with all the usual suspects and a few of the more unusual ones too. There was everything from dragqueens to leatherqueens with everything inbetween in all shapes, sizes and ages. It was actually really nice to be in a place that wasn't segregrating itself from certain types of clientele.

We sat at table 50, which was right next to, but at the side of the stage where, performing, was probably one of the tackiest, most talentless, horrendous drag shows I have ever seen.

I LOVED it!

As we were at the side of the stage, we had gone upstairs to watch the show from the balcony, to ensure we got a good view of the dames a la drag. Straight after the show, they held the fund raising raffle for which I had acquired $20 worth of tickets.

The evening had ticked by and it was about midnight now. The passing of time, can only mean one thing.....the longer the time has passed....the more drunk I probably am. I'm telling you this so that you may understand my reason for badgering (read yelling and shouting at) the raffle man to "Pull a different one" as no-one had claimed the prize in the 0.003 seconds since he announced the number.

He did this three times and no-one claimed the first prize. So again I cajoled (read heckled) him to stick his hand back in the box....

"RED, C, 22" he delivered into his tinny mic.

YA FUCKING HOO!!!!! I screamed as I ran downstairs and up to the stage to collect my prize.

An alcoholics dream....a 24 bottle wine cooler (read vodka!)

Seems Jesus loves me after all.....

the Lord is my shepherd

I have a friend. I know this might seem odd to a lot of you, but I have a friend. I met him not long after landing on these fair shores. He was drunk in a bar and, naturally, I honed in on him and we got drunk together.

We’ve spent many a night, getting drunk, exchanging woes and generally setting the world to rights.

As we all know, you can only set the world to rights after copius amounts of alcohol. And so it was.

During all the time we’ve spent together, he has had a problem. A problem that he has wrestled with alone. He has been unable to even give me a hint as to what the problem is. So, as I couldn’t know what the problem was, we decided to give it a name.

“Hows things with "Bob?” I'd ask

“Ahhhh, 'Bob' is ok” would come the reply “No change”

And so it was. We would talk about 'Bob', but I would never know what 'Bob' was. In six months, I’ve never found out about 'Bob.'

This weekend I got a call from my mate asking to meet for an afternoon beverage. Of course I obliged, only to find my mate there, sober. Not only was he sober, but he was scrubbed up.

Sober, scrubbed up and in a dog collar. For all the world to see, he was a priest.

Turns out, 'Bob', was a drinking problem and my mate was “suspended” from duty until a minor charge of being drunk whle holding a sermon was investigated.

He was going back to the church, and I would not see him again in a pub. Good for him I thought!

“Would you like to hear my service?” he asked…”I’d like to thank you for you help over the recent months”

…Hmmmm, not sure about this one, but “Go on then, why not?” was the reply.

The next day was Sunday and I headed off to the church. Now I’m not exactly a God fearing man, but today frightened the bejeezus out of me.

Lord have mercy!

Here comes something big

Five and a half thousand sailors arrived in Sydney yesterday aboard the USS KittyHawk aircraft carrier.




Despite attempts at avoiding congestion, the roads around the harbour were at gridlock just as they were on a previous visit by a big ship.

The ship is berthed (docked?) at the naval base in Wooloomooloo. I kid you not. There really is a place called Wooloomooloo and the only reason I dont live there is that since arriving here, i still cant say it after a few pints.

What in Gods name am I going to do with 5500 sailors?

I thought I might pop down to Woolymewotsit for a few beers after work. After all, the PM boarded the ship yesterday and said that they would find Sydney "Warm and welcoming."

Hello sailor



All for one and one for all.....that's my motto. Wish me luck !

PM hassled by budgie smuggler

A Speedo clad muscle bloke ambushed John Howard (the PM) today at a community tea morning in the northern NSW town of Bega.

Protesting about the 'greenhouse effect' he stumbled towards the PM shouting "There is no snow, there is no snow"

Snow wonder he was quickly bundled away into a nearby toilet !

The upside to Gloabl Warming

Space

Rubbish map, but you get the idea...!

At some point over the weekend, Australia got it's 21st millionth resident. The Fed Governement had been running some sort of complicated algorithm type thing that measured, births, deaths, immigration etc etc and concluded that the latest resident would arrive circa 9:30pm on Friday.

The UK already has over 60 million folk, making it, by comparisom a very crowded place to live, which is fine if you like crowds. In actual fact it isnt much better in Australia. A quarter of the whole country lives in Sydders, with the remainder spread over 7 cities (towns). There are a sprinkling of sheep shearers and aborignals somewhere in the middle. Australia is huge, but basically empty.

Given the worlds crowds, where would you like to live?

What a croc !

After a recent post about Croc Shoes and the fact that they are an abomination unto mankind, Fi sent me this website.

WWW.IHATECROCS.COM

Whoda thunk it? A whole site dedicated to hating and making these nasty little pieces of polypropalene extinct!

I love it. I particulary love the "Burning of the Crocs" video

Go check it out and give your support if u 2 hate Crocs.

What? No shoes?

Walking around Sydders on any given day, you'll see lots of people, also walking. The difference between me and them however, is that I'm wearing something on my feet. Shoes, trainers, boots. Call them what you will but I do have something on my feet.


Sydneysiders have a habit of leaving the house and walking to wherever it is that they're going, barefoot.


When I first noticed this, I thought it a bit odd given that this country is home to some of the worlds most deadly spiders. What would they do if they trod on a funnel web spider? Die is what they would do. Die in about 15 minutes. Its not like they could avoid this little beast of satan, its so small you'd hardly notice it there. It's only about the size of a thumb nail! Also the red back spider, bit bigger, more noticeable, but just as deadly.


OK, spiders aside, what about broken glass or small stones? Small stones are the worst for treading on. They hurt like a bitch! I just don't get this walking around barefoot thing.


During summer I asked a mate "why?." His reply was something to do with summer and it being too hot. Well, its not summer now and today, walking to work I saw two people walking barefoot in the rain. They went into a local shop, bought milk and walked back to their flat about 20 yards up the road. Barefoot.


Good heavens!


However, the upside to all this is that walking barefoot is actually better than walking around in Crocs.


Have you seen these monstrosities? Pieces of plastic in colours so bright and vile they come with a visor and a vomit bag. Why would anyone wear these things in public? Come to think of it why wear them in private? Or at all for that matter?


If you are ever stood in a bar, minding your own business, drinking your little beer and a big burly man approaches you and asks "Are you alone?" whilst wearing purple plastic shoes with holes in them, say no, you are not alone. Tell him you are waiting for someone, even if its not true. Wait till he goes to the bar and then run. Run like the wind.




It should read bitch, as in you look like one wearing them

Shoes with holes? Avoid them at all costs.

Chatty Chewsday

I recently posted a pic of me in Vanuatu playing with the local kids. Fiona sent me the pic below and said I look like Madonna.





Spot the difference

I'm quite flattered that I was mistaken for a glamourous rock star who at 49 still looks like she does.

Have you ever been mistaken for anyone famous?

In your dreams

I had a dream last night that seemed so real, that even in my dream, I thought to myself "Thats really funny, I'll blog that!"

Naturally, when I woke up I realised my real dream wasn't real and in hindsight was a bit weird, so I wont bore you with all of it, only this little tantalising detail which will leave you wondering "WTF?"

dream sequence:

So, I'm on a tram, going around Sydney, sitting just behind the driver and I look out of the window and see a huge display for McDonalds. All lights and flashes with Ronald McDonald in the middle of it underneath a huge '60' to celebrate 60 years of MackyDees. Ronald was singing a very loud, celebatory song. At the top of his voice.....

"My penis just got bigger"

I try not to analyse my dreams.....

Neighbours Meets Little Britain

There I was, watching Neighbours (sad I know) when who should turn up in the background?

Some Pictures from Vanuatu

Kevin Bloody Wilson

Kevin Bloody Wilson is an irreverent Aussie singer who swears a lot. Though he really is bloody funny....this is his ode the the English Cricket Team, might offend some, but get over it....

Auntie Em, Auntie Em...A twisters a comin'

As the risk of sounding sterotypically English, I'm gonna talk about the weather. Being English it comes naturally to me. We English talk about the weather constantly.

"Oooo, innit 'ot, I'm sweating like a blue arse fly 'ere!"

Can someone tell me what a blue arse fly is and why it sweats so much?

"Bloody nora, you could freeze the balls off a brass monkey outside!"

Have you EVER seen a ball-less brass monkey?

Anyway, the point of this post is not to discuss the various metaphors (similes?) used to describe the UK weather patterns. It's more to let you know whats been happening here in old Sydders.

You see, for the last three weeks, pretty much the whole east coast of Oz has been battered by tropical storms. New South Wales itself has been the victim of three storms that has seen rivers run.

Note that I say rivers run and not overflow because those 2 million acres of dry, barren land that runs past your sheep farm and hasn't seen water for 20 years actually starts to run. These vast open river beds actually have names like Barrorwa river, despite the fact no water has been seen in living memory. In fact, one farmer took his 8 year old boy down to the now flowing river and had his picture taken with it incase it never happened again. The young lad, from the back o Bourke (out in the sticks) had never seen a body of water before!

Not all rivers were so lucky. Quite a few of them did burst their banks and caused major flooding, sweeping people out to sea. In one area the coastal highway was washed away and swept a family of five down a river in their car.

They were all buried yesterday.

Up near Newcastle (Hi mum!) a huge bulk carrier was beached and has quickly become a tourist attraction.

Down in Canberra, snow fell for the first time in 20 years.

The Hunter Valley (wine growing country) became the Hunter swimming pool

Yesterday, a cyclone was predicted to hit Sydders but thankfully it didnt reach us.

I wasn't particularly looking forward to wearing a gingham dress, having my house ripped up from under me and then dropping in on your sister!

Anyway, I'm off to take Toto for a walk....

Disco here, disco there

I got a text from MSM on Monday last week telling me he was not working on Saturday so did I fancy painting the town a shade of pink on Friday? My first thought was "yay!" which was quickly followed the next day by "boo!" cos I got a cold and didnt feel much like painting the town any shade of anything.

It then turns out that he wasn't sure if he was working on Sat and would let me know so I spent most of the week secretly hoping he was so I wouldn't have to cancel due to my runny nose and blocked sinuses. I sounded like that bloke from the Vicks Sinus Spray ad on telly. Remember Malcom saying to his mum he couldn't go out cos he was all blocked and she would hand him a nasal thing to help him breather better!? "Of course you can Malcolm!" she would reply.


Anyway, I felt like poo all week and then late on Thursday, I got a call confirming he had got Saturday night off...."boo" I thought.


MSM arrived at my placed about 11.30 on Friday and we went off to meet Tina. All three of us hopped into a taxi to Oxford St and wondered which club to go too. There are a few on this street, but MSM said we should go to Palms. I'd never even heard of it but off we went, climbing downstairs to a basement nightclub.


It was small, but really busy and unusually for a gay nightclub everyone had their tops on! But it did however have the obligatory mirror ball. Is this a staple of all clubs or just clubs for poofs? The dancefloor was 'rockin' and the music was a mix of 70's trash to 90's disco. I even had a bop to Who put the bomp in the bomp-a-bomp-a-bomp? It felt good to be getting down with my bad self......

"getting down"

.....Alright, my 'bad self' is a little too contemporary for me, but it did feel good cutting a rug.

I've been here nearly 3/4 of a year and it was a nice surprise to find somewhere where I didnt feel like old father time. Though it has to be said that by the time I got home I felt like I needed a hip replacement so I got into my "Thora Hird Stair Lift" and went to bed.


Not Thora Hird

Conquering the world

Harking back to a previous post I can now say that I have a dot in the South Americas. Sounds like a euphanism for a disease.

Onward to Russia for world domination...

Wanna game on the pokie?

Another Addiction

When I first landed on these fair shores some 18 years ago most pubs had a pokie or two. A pokie is an electronic gambling machine on which you play…you guessed it, poker. Maximum prize $500.00

These machines are now pretty rare. In fact I haven’t seen a single one since I got here eight months ago. All the pubs still have pokies though, but they have morphed into what us Brits would call a fruit machine or in the US, slots. They have now evolved into a whole arena of flashing lights, whizzes and bells where, in NSW, you can win $10,000.00. In some bars, the machines are ‘linked’ and the prize gets bigger, quicker!

So popular are the pokies that pubs build special rooms for them where the avid gambler can relax with a ciggie (until 2nd July at least) a beer and basically feed coins into the machines. Not content with only accepting coins, the machines also take all paper money too. Well, I say paper money. Here the paper money is actually plastic. They are dead easy to play. There are no holds or nudges. Push the button, you either win or lose.

Back in the UK, I never gave these machines a second glance, only occasionally dropping a couple of quid in whilst I wait for the idiot behind the bar to realise why he’s actually paid to work there. “Hello! Service!”

I digress.

So you can understand my surprise when I realised that since coming here, I actually enjoy playing these machines now. Whilst I haven’t got to the point where I would sell the silverware or rob an ol’ dear for her pension to pay for my addiction, there was the one occasion where I walked home cos I had fed my bus fare to the big greedy machine in the corner. It flashed it’s lights mockingly at me as I shivered in the pouring rain outside, destitute.

Alright, alright, I’m hardly destitute but there are many who are. You see, gambling is another major problem here. The machines have stickers on them. CALL NOW – WE CAN HELP. Of course the numbers are so small you can’t actually see them, but plenty people get their wages and immediately spend it on the pokies. The unemployed get the social cheque an immediately spend it on the pokies. You pop your $5.00 in and look over to the machine next to you where a man with cobwebs on his chair as he hasn’t moved in days has just popped another in $100.00. You check out his credit and it says something like 2514653 ! Holy Mother of God, that’s like, err, umm, well, loads of money!

You see, to ease the pain of losing your money, the machine doesn’t actually register your hard earned cash in $$$$, it turns it into points. Just like casino’s take your cash and give you chips. It makes losing your money so much easier. This weekend, my flatmate saw a guy lose $3,000.00 !!

Anyway, once again I’m not sure where I’m going with this post, so I’m off to the pub to lose a few dollars on my favourite machine, The Queen of the Nile.

Vodka & Ice please...

Ice. Ice is frozen water. We have ice here. You just need a freezer and some water. Of course we have ice here. This isn’t the Kalahari ! It’s the stuff you place in drinks to cool them down. It’s the stuff that celebudantes have at their weddings carved into the shape of a swan. It’s the stuff that is melting at an alarming rate in the Poles.

Ice

Well, not in Sydney.

Ice is the common name for methamphetamine hydrochloride and in Australia this drug and its useage is absolutely huge. The problem isn’t confined to homeless junkies, drunk winos or Eveleigh St residents (think Thamesmead, but worse). The problem is everywhere. In no other country have I seen needle disposal boxes (NDB’s) in the toilets of a pub. It’s not just small grotty pubs either. The NDB’s are in most of the pubs, from your posh “I’m too good for this place” bars to the slummy “I’m a drunk” bars.

Ice box?

Of course the governement is trying to combat this epidemic, but I’m not sure giving users a safe place to dispose of their needles is necessarily the best way to go about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather see a needle in a box than on the street where it can be trodden on by kids playing with wombats.


I live fairly central in Sydders and just around the corner I have (not me literally) a methadone clinic. From the early hours to late at night you can see people of all colours, creeds and classes running in and leaving 20 minutes later with a serene look on their faces with not a needle in sight. Of course, this is drug useage approved by the Fed Government as we can’t have those nasty heroin addicts on the streets whereas the ice addict can “do his thing” in any bar!

Ice

Just a few of the symptons are extreme paranoia, violent behavior, rapid weight loss, grinding of the teeth, hallucinations, hearing voices, pale complexion, symptoms of Parkinson's disease, rapid speech that makes no sense, depression, sleeping or sleeplessness for long periods of time, suicidal ideation's and different forms of schizophrenia. Ice users are also known to see shadows that move and feel that people are after them. Sometimes Ice users accuse their family members and friends of being with the Police, MI5, CIA or other government agencies and express extreme anger and violence to their loved ones. These side effects can often remain permanent if not treated; this is called “Meth Psychosis”.

Not at all sure where I’m going with this post so I’m off to the pub for a vodka and coke (no ice).