Ms Fits is an irritatingly smug 31 year-old television writer who yearns to be Bob Ellis but will settle for Bob Hart. At least he gets free meals. Pompous nobjockey.
Hasn't it been a long time between q and a meanderings? I find it much nicer this way - dipping in and out like a magical book nerd faerie. I'm well settled in Sydlee and enjoying myriad strolls to the Bourke Street Bakery, along with early evening dinners and random encounters with bearded celebrities making a fuss of my dog (that's right, Noah Taylor lives in my hood).
Anyhow. This is probably going to take me some time. Let's settle down and swim through some Friday questions like a school of brightly-coloured fish set to be eaten by a whale.
Anonymous said... What a lovely collection of questions and corresponding (if often tangential) answers. I commend you.
On the topic of the two gingers and the famous guy (a much catchier band name, no?), are you planning to overthrow Kingsmill and surreptitiously place them on high rotation? I believe that would be the stand up thing to do. Power to the people.
Also, being this time of year, I'm feeling quite obliged to wish you a merry christmas/ joyous new year/good wishes/ blessings to your families chickens etc.
Thanks for the festive wishes Anon, though to be honest it's really showing up how fucking long it's taken for me to update my Friday questions. In answer to your query, yes. I am slowly but surely poisoning Richard Kingsmill by serving him bathtub gin fashioned from raw juniper berries. The day he turns somewhat pale and topples over in the record library is THE DAY TRIPLE J PLAY BACK TO BACK BASICS.
vinonymous said... Wow, you shaved your head TWICE? I shaved all mine off last week in exchange for 2 grand in donations to the Leukaemia Foundation. It was really sandpapery at first but now it's feeling somewhat velvety (I'm great with adjectives, aren't I?). I can't stop touching it, which is really bad in peak hour traffic when I have to try and turn corners with one hand when there's no green arrow.
This was leading somewhere... oh yes, how quickly did your hair grow back? And why did you do it in the first place?
I did it in the first place because I am a) a twit, and b) an erstwhile Beastie Boys obsessive who once convinced herself that she could most likely become an awesome skateboarder given the right pair of oversized cord pants and a pair of Converse one stars. My poor horrified parents. It grew back in an entirely offensive 'puffy' style and I resembled for a time an eleven-year-old Italian magician pulling dice tricks in the garage. The only thing missing was my bowtie. No you may not see a photograph.
richard_watts said... "While we're here, thank you so much for that tea-towel you gave me with the picture of two men having robust anal sex printed on it. I think it's absolutely wonderful."
You're most welcome - I can't think of anyone more deserving of such a gift, and I'm sure it will make a fine talking point the next time your remarkable parents visit...or anyone, really.
Yes, it's certainly been a setpiece here in Surry Hills. Anyone else with enjoyably strange tea-towels please do feel free to send them my way.
BEVIS said... I have another question in my series of burning questions to ask you, but I'll do that later.
For now, I just had to say how wonderful I thought your answer to how babies are made was.
That was a poorly constructed sentence, but you get the idea. It was a genius response.
If I wasn't sitting at my computer naked, I'd tip my hat to you.
Can't you just tip your penis instead? It would probably be more interesting for all concerned.
Ms. Wright said... I think I'm jealous of Ms. Fits tea towel collection. Lucky thing.
-Also a question: Really a marriage off this blog? Do they still post on here etc?
-Also a statement: Congrats on the job, the big scary move and doing the big scary move with the fella while you're getting up at 4:30am 5 days a week. Talk about jumping in feet first. It's quite nice I think.
Bevis- I'd be doing some hat tipping too, but I'm in the same position you are. Page 27 of the karma sutra.*
*snare drum please
Hello, Ms. Wright.
Here we go....
1. Sadly, they are no longer together as far as I'm aware. The newish romance, however, is going such great guns that cohabitation is currently in motion and glorious. I hope you're all wearing your Sunday best. You never know who you might meet in q and a comments.
2. Isn't it? And thus far it's proved rather a successful venture. Going to bed at 8:30pm may be crippling socially, but who needs late-night fun times when you can start drinking at 2 in the afternoon?
Goose said... Hello Ms. Fits!
I am delighted to hear that you are joining the team at JJJ! I attend the university right across the road from the ABC so I might bump into you when I trek from one lecture theatre to another (in the past, I have crossed paths with Kerry O'Brien and a handful of lovelies from The Chaser).
I do realise I haven't asked a question. I'm just excited.
x
Please do make yourself known if we happen to cross paths, Goose. I'll be the one staggering across Harris street with a dazed expression and an opened can of Coke Zero.
Lou said... Any remedies for the hunover guilt fest of the morning after the night before? I had the most suitably rock n roll crazy drinking and dancing and telling people to fuck off night at the Divinyls. Yet I wake up with that sick guilt in my stomach. Perhaps I consume too much alcohol, but who wouldn't at such an event? Please suggest something other than to "stop drinking" because that would send me over the edge.
I would never suggest such an appalling course of action, Lou. All you need to do in a similar situation is eat some sardines on toast and have a nice bath and read David Sedaris. I defy anyone to wallow in the muddy dregs of a hangover after such restorative behaviour.
Additionally, do try not to berate yourself overly if you've kicked up the heels in a somewhat haphazard fashion. Obviously alcohol is a depressant and you're more likely to wallow in its miserable wake if you've pummeled your poor liver with absinthe bomb after absinthe bomb. Have a nice cup of tea and remind yourself how lovely the world can be sometimes. It will pass, I promise.
Stump Of Knowledge said... Whoever suggested the inner-west of Sydney for your new digs was spot on. Wander around a while before settling, but you sound to me like you'd be most at home in Newtown or Glebe. Or maybe Rozelle. Or the dodgy end of Balmain. Check out the markets at Glebe every Saturday (at the schoolgrounds on Glebe Pt Rd) and Rozelle on Saturday/Sundays (Darling St Rozelle - also a schoolground affair). Go to Il Cugino on Norton St at Leichhardt for great pizza or up the road to Bar Italia for cheap-but-good pasta. Norton St Grocer (lower level at the plaza on Norton St) is a foodie's delight. Recommended pubs: the Riverview in Balmain for a quiet ale/reading of book (just beware Paddy McGuinness - a regular). The Rose in Chippendale for its beer garden. The Annandale on Parramatta Rd for live bands. I suppose I should ask a question....Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama?
God bless you good people and all your Sydlee suggestings. Just this afternoon we ran into a talkative old lady near the Brett Whitely gallery who pointed us in the direction of three wondrous pasta places 'which I would know all about, as I spend nine months of the year in Florence. Although I am a fabulous cook myself'.
To be honest, I'm a little helplessly infatuated with Surry Hills. Is that wrong?
p.s. Barack. But I'm not voting him because he's black. I'm voting for him BECAUSE HE'S BRILLIANT.
p.p.s. I'm not actually voting for him at all.
Andy Pants said... It seems you have a fair few melbournite readers. So I would like to post a flyer if I could. I need a place to saty when I hightail it to Melbourne in the next few weeks. I'm willing to crash almost anywhere small with cheap rent and people who don't mind the sound of music-making.
Any help would be grandly appreciated.
Has this time passed, AP? You seem a very decent chap and I've always admired your commentary. I'm sorry I can't open the doors of chez Johnston to you, but I don't live there anymore.
Andy Pants said... Also... Newtown fucking rocks.
As long as you don't mind the ominous ever-present sound of planes flying overhead.
I don't, actually. It reminds me of the war.
Shezbo said... Domanda is the Italian word for question..so even if I wanted to take credit for it, I couldn't. Blame the mafia, if you will.
I second Glebe or Newtown. and I am also across the road from the ABC being a laid back kicking uni student but have only ever spotted one chaser and he was in a hurry.
La question: Are you a morning person?
Not overly, but I'm adjusting. Back in the days when I was only freelance writing and no-one was forcing me to get up O FOR THOSE HEADY CAREFREE DAYS OF YORE I still managed to rise and shine reasonably early and drag Bob Ellis up the road for a coffee before Collingwood managed to rouse itself from its slumber.
Still. 4:45am? Someone must be having a fucking laugh.
fox drink water said... The inner west is indeed the land of milk and honey. To be in the thick of things, go for Newtown, Enmore or Balmain, for a slightly quieter (but still fun) time, head for Stanmore, Petersham, Annandale, Leichhardt. The yummiest gelato in Sydney is Gelatomassi in Newtown. The loveliest sauve dinner is Oscillate Wildly in Newtown. If you like being near water, Clovelly and Bronte are fetching beachside suburbs in the east. Perhaps you should post your must-have qualities in a suburb and we Sydney types can offer suggestions?
Must-have qualities in Sydney suburb - big trees, above-par range of dining establishments, close walk to Ultimo, oversized park nearby for Bob Ellis, halfway decent pub free of fucking gambling equipment and braying chaps in cable-knit sweaters shouting about their benz, a cinema, old ladies keen to share dining tips and talk about art.
Frank from Abbotsford said... No question, just best wishes: Smith St won't be the same without you (mind you, these days I hardly ever go there) but I'm sure your presence will refresh the parts of Sydney that others cannot reach. Best wishes for your new job - I might even listen if I can find it on the wireless dial. chookas, Frank F.A.
Thanks, Frank. I wouldn't expect you to tune into the Jays without first training yourself with repeated listenings of Cut Copy and something mysteriously known as a Pharoahe Monch, but it's kind of you to even consider. Do please keep those miraculous ham hock beans at Cavallero warm til I make my way back to them.
sublime-ation said... oh yes, as I am sickeningly internerd addicted I am familiar with the anus thoughts. (If you are listening, oh brilliance, please update...) As for reading the 'real' one, I just occasionally like to check out what 'they' are up to etc....I've said before here how journalistic sources have told me that he used to be a bit of a lefty, and it's all an act, designed to appease the 'common man' by the powers that be/own the H.Scum, and I find it endlessly fascinating how one can write such insincere dribble with such apparent conviction. Maybe Bolty had a leftish love, who broke his heart, and he changed sides, holding her responsible for all that is fair and reasonable, I can see the musical now, kind of like a more horrific Hunchback of Notre Dame...I could speculate forever but as my father keeps telling me I shouldn't really waste time/thoughts on such a twit. I shall send more foodie Sydney ideas as I think of them...there's a great Italian cafe that does good coffee (shock! horror!) in Bondi Beach, just off the main drag, must remember what it's called. Happy Christmas to you and give your lovely Ma my love. x
Our friend Andrew used to write teen angst poetry as a young man, you know. Perhaps the strain to create another bitching rhyming couplet was all too much for him and he turned his mind to evil and witchcraft and amusingly mixed metaphors and aren't we the luckier for it?
Rowena said... Happy Sexy-mas to you and Hair of Fire, dear Ms Fits x
And merry pool table pashing new year's to you, lady.
The Colonel said... Walrus like indeed...Why I should whip you with a wooden spoon while singing God save the King...But I gather you'd enjoy that....The wooden spoon, not God save the King! I am 5 feet 11 and still whip thin. I do have a mustache but it was condition of my Knighthood in 24 that I grew one. Surely you like the idea of being mounted by a Knight? My horse loves the idea!! Oh well my little communist enjoy Sydney. If I could, I'd buy the ABC and set you to work as my personal assistant....You'd enjoy that...Lots of wooden spoons and razors for shaving.. And to the impertinent swine who compared me to Gollumn...I knew Tolkein. Damned wretch always going on about saving middle earth. Gollumn was based on my manservant at the time. he used to dribble and carry on about stealing my ring. Must have been a queer!!!!
You'll be pleased to note that I am surrounded by many communist poofo queers at my new place of employment. Every morning we share Maoist philosophy and bow before anything painted a shade of red. You should witness the frothing fits at Playschool when a fire truck passes.
EC said... No question, just a big best wishes for the festive season to you Ms Fits. Thanks for your advice this year too.
All the best for you and your beloved ginger bloke with the Sydney move.
You are all very kind. I forgot what a nice exercise q and a could be sometimes, amongst all the tastefully polite reminders about what a pea-brained fuckstick I am.
Kaleu Big said... Calisthenics b4 work. Do you exercise? What’s your idea of it ?
Do the town bikes have a Calisthenics workout video? Have you ever rehearsed with them? I only recently saw footage of them (excuse my ignorance) but man they can swing their hips, there hip swinging should be classed illegal, it could take out an elephant
Was there anything outrageous you had to do at the interview for your new job? like Ruby
Thank you for your word play in 07.Health and happiness for you in 08.I enjoyed reading, especially your comments on Bindi
Merry Getpissedmas
Hello, Kaleu.
1. I walk a lot every day - home from work, then again later in the day roaming the streets with Bob Ellis dodging saucer-eyed nightclub attendees. Occasionally I go to the gym and stare openly at the 800-year-old lady with fake boobies and supertight gladwrap face working at reception WHY DOES SHE DO THIS TO HERSELF. I'm a lazy person by nature, so it helps me to get away from all the sedentary parts of my job(s) and work up a fine sheen of perspiration once in a while. That said, I prefer doing eight parts of fuck-all.
2. The beauteous Town Bikes have sadly not yet released an exercise video, but I'll be sure to put in a good word.
3. I've danced with Gabi way back in the day, but in terms of actually 'rehearsing' with the Bikes the closest I've come is casting an eye over a routine and making some directorial suggestions.
They asked me, you know. I didn't just turn up and start throwing my weight around.
4. I didn't actually do an interview for this new job. I co-hosted a couple of times in the afternoons with Robbie and then management asked if I'd be interested in uprooting my entire life and moving to a strange state and cutting myself off from close friends and family in order to wake up pre-dawn and talk absolute arse on radio to which I replied WHERE DO I SIGN.
(In the previous Q&A;, obvs. Nothing to do with the computer related nudity)
Happy New Year, also.
Too late! But thank you.
Hellglitter said...
Hey Fitsalicious Go with the Glebe option. It's closer to work and has a fine selection of eateries. I lived in Newtown when it was full of rocking pubs but the only thing its full of these days is itself. There is a damn fine coffee place along Devonshire St, between Elizabeth and Chalmers streets, run by two glamorous looking ex circus people. Hubby still performs little magic tricks with a glowing thumb and his wife was an aerialist (their son is currently travelling around Europe doing similar circus things). The staff are delightful, left of centre loonies who are utterly charming. And best of all, out the back, is a nice quite outside area with rickety wobbling tables. But even better of all, it's not one of those popular, must-be-seen-in-the-window places, it's just a charming little nook with decent coffee. Glad to see you in the Emerald City where the harbour was God's work (apparently) and the city the devil's. Hmm, that's not a question is it.....okay..um.. well since I'm moving to Melbourne in a year, where should a couple with one kid who are both into the arts, like the rush of the city and demand good coffee every morning choose to live?
Circus coffee! As I live and breathe.
In answer to your question I'd suggest Brunswick or East Brunswick or Preston. Excellent coffee, first-rate food, and tramming distance to the big smoke. Hurry in before the rental prices equal that of Sydlee's and you're priced out of the market like bereft refugees.
Names are not important.. said... No more questions about JJJ, the dog or the boyfriend, I promise. This relates to your blog hookup service, as noted in Q&A;#91. I was just wondering what happened to that cute Murakami fan. Turns out I've been stuck waiting in a phone booth for seven months. The door doesn't open outwards, and it rains every day, but thankfully the white cat delivers pepperoni pizza and two cans of beer every evening right on sunset. It's right about sunset that the same fire engine races past under lights and siren. In fact, the very same procession of cars and people glides by every day. They don't notice me. I gave up shouting at them long ago. I look out into the street, hoping to notice the cute girl carrying a Murakami novel under her arm. She never does, which is a shame, as I feel she may be linked to my escape from this goddamned phone booth. I fear I am stuck here for some time. Perhaps you could get a message to her. With thanks.
...and the RYWHM dating service continues. Murakami fan, if you're out there, your chariot awaits.
Anonymous said... i sorta get the feeling ..... he isn't gonna fuck it up.....
Time will tell, Anon. Let's all cast our eyes to February 13th and see what stirrings we feel when ol' K07 gets down on his knees and makes nice with that mob who were kind of here first.
shanel said... The last I heard the show was called 'Robbie, Marieke and The Doctor'.
Surely it has to be 'Bucky, Marieke and the Doctor'?
That would be confusing for at least a small portion of the blogosphere, sir.
Andy Pants said... If you're equal to a slave, how are you free?
Who, me personally? Or human beings in general? Do you work for some kind of sneaker manufacturer? Your slogans are sounding suspiciously like something that would accompany a commercial where a lady in tight leggings goes jogging through a waterfall.
Anonymous said... I almost threw up when I pulled out the A2 today.
What a great pity for you, Anon. I don't wish an upset stomach on anyone outside of Jackie O and even then I'd probably lend her some Quick-Eze once she was finished harking her stomach lining all over the bathroom tiles.
curious said... that's not a normal reaction is it?
how do you go pulling off an A4?
ZING.
Anonymous said... You tell me. I pulled it out (of the rest of the prospective cat litter bed), not off.
Masturbating Newspaper Supplements 101. Gosh, I can see why this blog's been nominated for an award.
Wait, now I remember. It's the highbrow comments like this one:
Anonymous said... I once got pulled off in an Audi A4. It was excellent and was one of the many times I was pleased to have leather seats. Gobs of semen aside, my paramour was knickerless and very juicy. And that was before I finger fucked her g-spot causing her to expel three big squirts. I just wiped the leather down with a chamois which I later rinsed out. I don't know how I would have coped with cloth seats.
Maybe all this is lost on the RYWHM readership who I picture driving around in beaten up 70's Holdens and Valiants with unhygienically grimed up, dog fur covered vinyl seats. Oh the filth. Get a real job (JJJ are hiring) and buy a nice car. Fucking Hippies.
'Expel three big squirts'? I hope no-one's partway through their Weetbix right now.
teaspoon said... Hi Anon (from last thread),
If you're still around, I'm game if you are!
x teaspoon
Is this a dating thing again? Can it be dusted off or have I shamefully left it too late for love to bloom?
Omitting the ID fields increases your risk of being mistaken for spam said... Although not obligatory to check your individuality at the door on entering JJJ (see Myf Warhurst), JJJ groupthink has subsumed more promising talents than yourself into its pseudo commercial, high rotation, all things to all yoof belly.
I don't think you've made the wrong choice necessarily but I suggest fortifying yourself and hitting the place with elevated attitude and impertinance as a sort of ambit claim to back down from ever so slightly.
Let's face it. You are no Fee Bee Squared and never will be. That woman is without peer. What I'd be asking myself if I were you is whether you really want to be a Kate Langbroek (/me throws up into own mouth) because it seems you are not far off that trajectory.
Just Sayin'....
Thanks for the career advice, Omitting the ID fields increases your risk of being mistaken for spam. Although to be honest, anyone who decides to waltz in with the patronising 'Let's face it, you are no (insert name here) and never will be, dollface' pretty much cancels themselves out as someone I wish to pay an overt amount of attention to, so feel free to continue pounding your fist against the pub table and holding court on the relative merits and failings of women in radio and their poor choices. In the interim, I shall carry on living my life as I see fit and you can bite me.
Ms Anonymous said... Happy New Year! Woo! *pops streamers* And all of that.
What were your favourite music and film releases of 2007?
Film - I loved This Is England, though it's hard to wave a flag for it when Raging Bull and Withnail and I were both re-released. Still. Killer soundtrack.
*********************************
I must begone downstairs to argue the merits of David Sedaris versus Christopher Koch, and the lurking remainder questions will have to wait 'til tomorrow. Apologies. At least I've done half the fucking things.
Leave your deeply probing questions for next time in the comments below, and if anyone sees Hamish Blake loitering around TELL HIM I'M COMING FOR HIM.
I think the only appropriate caption for this picture is 'I...will...suck....your....soul....'.
Though I'm quite prepared to field further offers. No doubt there's additional material regarding a jaunty coat made from 101 dalmations or drinking the lifeblood of tiny elves in there somewhere.
Thanks to Sasha,who gave me the heads up regarding Doc Nelson's personal website. And my, ISN'T IT LOVELY AND RELAXED NOTHING TO SEE HERE JUST A REGULAR JOE.
'Whilst my wife thinks I own two guitars, I actually own five! I have three Fender Stratocasters, Fender 60th Anniversary Stratocaster and a sixties facsimile Stratocaster. I also have a Yamaha XGV1212 with a sliding bridge and a Tanada acoustic I bought in 1981'.
Nelson, you wild dog. Keeping musical purchases from your wife? There will be blood, etc.
'My favourite all time musicians have got to be Roy Buchanan, Santana and George Harrison.
Without even thinking, my favourite rock group is, and always has been AC/DC!'
IN YOUR FACE, JOHN 'I DON'T MUCH CARE FOR THE LYRICAL STYLINGS OF BOB DYLAN' HOWARD. THERE'S A NEW SHERIFF IN TOWN AND HE'S READY TO ROCK (so long as there are appropriate safety barriers and crowd control in place pre-performance and everyone has purchased their ticket through legal venues).
'I bought my first bike in 1976 at the age of 17. It was a Honda 75-4 which probably explains why my mother went grey early!' (insert LOL here - ed.)
'I dropped out of it for a few years when my children were young.'
Responsible, no? Also: heartwarming as fuck. If only every father were so kind/giving, etc.
This next bit is my favourite. It's a lesson on how to pretty much suck every last shred of dirty, sticky rebellion from the world of motorbikes.
'My advice to fellow riders is that whatever you do, always assume that everybody else on the road is going do the wrong thing. Always assume there will be unanticipated obstacles or animals around the next corner when out on a country road. Always assume your skills are not as good as you think and whatever you do, undertake a HART (Honda Australia Roadcraft Training) or a Stay Upright course.'
Right. And don't forget to pass on the backyard lab speed when Big Mike proffers a toot your way, kids!!!
On dogs:
'My favourite breed is Jack Russell Terriers. My two Jack Russell Terriers, Sniff and Lucy are just fantastic!
I love the fact that they’re gutsy, affectionate, low maintenance and less of a problem if you take them to a mate’s place'.
A bit like Tony Abbott, really. Although give him a few Vodka Breezers and he'll tear the joint up like a man possessed.
Another highlight - 'my favourite doggy you tube video!!!'
'Because it reminds me of certain queue jumpers attempting to fling themselves at our country's borders, LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!*'
I'd like to say I had the perfect way to end today's blog but that honour really has to go to today's Daily Telegraph, who absolutely caned an article about the Coalition and poverty by captioning the following photograph:
'One of these men is down on his luck with an uncertain future. The other is homeless'.
Upstanding men and women of the press, I tip my hat.
*not a direct quote. Although I'm wagering the thought has crossed his mind.
'Live fast, love hard, and don't let anybody else use your comb!'
Wtf happened to the Liberal party? More importantly, wtf happened to Brendan Nelson?
Exhibit a:
'"We are well on track to meet the Coalition's biofuels production target of 350 million litres by 2010, with biofuels production expected to double in 2007, etc.'
Exhibit b:
'When I come to the crotch with crush/never chat shit, talk shit get flushed/I talk tough cuz life's been rough gritty/shitty life aint been too pretty far from buff '
And it's not just Doctor 'Danger! Danger! High Voltage!' Nelson shaking up the party snowdome. Others are jumping on board the koo-koo train and causing all kinds of confusion amongst the masses.
Gracious, it's bewildering. Though I must say I'm rather enamoured of all this chameleonic shape-shifting. Nestling in the chests of these conservatives are bleeding left-wing hearts, I'm certain of it.
'"Love from my point of view - it thrills us, takes your breath away, throws us for a loop It tickles us pink, makes us green with envy, sometimes causes the blues. To be in love is to be on a rollercoaster of exhilarating highs and exasperating lows."
'Lilt me your lips, our lost breath intermingling.
Synchronize our silence as lazy hours ease by.
Waft cocoa, hazelnut, cinnamon, scents around me.
Tremble with me in paralyzing pauses.'
'your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose'
So a co-hort of mine vowed to strip naked and run across stage if Sydney band Faker didn't make it into the Triple J Hottest 100. That's right, folks - rock and roll. Anyhow, much to the relief of 2.4 percent of the nation's listening audience Faker made it to the top 10 and Robbie's trousers stayed on and during the live interview I thought I'd bring up this particularly jolly fact.
Me: So Nathan, are you pleased that Faker made it to number 5?
Nathan: Yeah, very.
Me: I bet you're slightly disappointed that Robbie didn't strip naked and run across the stage, though.
Nathan: (looking slightly perplexed) Er...
Me: Go on, you are a bit. Robbie Buck naked! Hilarious.
Nathan: ...Sure. Whatever.
****************
Of course, the next day I pull out my Sunday magazine and realised he's just revealed himself to be gay. So once again I come across as the leering fucktard pointing out naked men to the homosexual. HAY LOOK A PENIS YOU LIKE THEM etc.
Or alternatively:
Me: Now New Kids On The Block are re-forming. Wild.
Jason: I know! I work on the third floor with all these 30-year-old women and they just keep putting the cd on and dancing around to it.
Me: (nudging slyly) Living the dream, Jason. Do they jiggle around much when they're doing it?
Jason: (smiling awkwardly) Ah...yeah.
*exits*
Robbie: Um...Jason might not actually be that enamoured of thirty-year-old women jiggling.
Me: Why not?
Lindsay: He's a bit...Nathan from Faker.
Me: ....oh.
**************************
I really need lessons in spotting this kind of stuff so I don't come across as a major dick. Apparently I just need to remember that every second man in Sydney is gay and take it from there. In the meantime - I'm cram-studying homo 101.
"I'm horrified and concerned that we're going to turn the Parliament of Australia into a dance parlour. But at the moment it's starting to indicate what the Rudd Government's going to be all about, show and not substance. Why not put neon signs on the top of Parliament, you know 'dances every friday night'."
He's absolutely right, as always. Let's see in the new year and the new government with some knees-up barnstorming. Wayne Swan can run the meat tray raffle. Peter Garrett can sell hooch in the toilets. A 'refreshed' Maxine McKew can lead the all-in Teen Wolf jive. LET'S CONVINCE AN ADULT TO BUY US A KEGGER etc.
Some ravers 'larging it', yesterday.
Honestly. Indigenous dancers at the opening of Federal Parliament? We're only steps away from a fucking eisteddfod, people.
