Thursday, December 23, 2004

A googly gift to you all

One of my favourite "work" games I employ to get through my day is to put obscure phrases into Google Image and see what comes up. I then send them off to whoever i think will laugh at them. The more obtuse the better.

As a parting gift to you all my wonderfully, delightful (not to mention good looking) friends I impart to you…

Love and prosperity



Howls of laughter



Presents beyond your wildest dreams



An end to hangovers



Fun in the sun



And a rockin’ good time.




Merry Christmas (or your religious equivalent) to all you ace kids.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

As Promised "What My Family Eats At Christmas" Post



My family Christmas dinner is a sight to behold. Let me take you on a journey of food, beer, wine, profanities and bon-bon’s.

My parents both come from large families (average of 5 siblings each). We from the coun-tree where having kids is what we does. As a result I have a lot of cousins (over 30 all up). This makes for interesting family get togethers.

We tend to hang with Dad’s side of the family most. C’mon face it – there’s always the side of the family that you go “ah-some, Smith side of the family. It’s gunna be messy,” and then there’s the “oh, the Jones side of the family… I’m pretty sure I have to leave early that day.” (btw, totally not my family names. Keepin’ with the anonymity)

Dad’s side of the family loves a drink. One friend of Dad’s met his sisters once and remarked “I don’t think I’ve even met men that can drink as well as your sisters.” Yep. Just keepin' wit tradition. With the drinking comes the swearing. If you’re easily offended I suggest you keep well clear of this bunch. That aside Dad’s family to me equals a whole world of good food. Need I say that this is a good thing in my book? Here’re the stats:

Uncle B
Foodiness: Former Butcher
Special Powers: Gets best. Meat. Ever. This includes turkey, lamb, chicken, and ham. He knows the peeps to buy it off and gets great deals.

Aunty B
Foodiness: Vegie farmer
Special Powers: You name the veg or salad item of your choice… she’s got it in the bag. She’s also very persuasive. Oh. And I’m her favourite.

Nan
Foodiness: Spent life in kitchen
Special Powers: This woman can make a sponge that hovers over the table it’s so light. Pav’s? You got it. Fruit cake? Yah-huh. Fairy cakes? Yessum. Unfortunately she sometimes breaks out a Flummery, which may have been cool in the seventies (along with crimplene), but now is very much not in vouge.

My Mum
Foodiness: Natural Abilities
Special Powers: This is an extraordinary woman. I’ve eaten with my Grandparents and I don’t know how she developed such a refined palate. She’s also super organised and a delight – she’s the one that keeps all happy and the room moving. I want to be her when I grow up.

My Dad
Foodiness: Seafood King
Special Powers: My dad is a savvy business man and is in the seafood biz. He da man for all your crustacean needs. Read this a weep.
Crayfish galore – big ones, bigger than big. Still snappin’ at ya when you first see ‘em big.
Oysters – plump, soft, salty, fresh as an ocean breeze.
Prawns - “Chuck another shrimp on the Barbie?” Oh I don’t think so. You wouldn’t be brave enough to call these big boys shrimps.

Oh sweet.

Everyone knows there place, what they need to do and when someone’s almost finished their drink – right there with another coldie.

And then there’s Me and I’ll just be walking around tasting things willy nilly, handing out tips, sticking my thermometer in all the dishes, and generally making sure I piss everyone off at some point with my Product Development prowess and finely tuned tastebuds. For a laugh maybe I’ll bring along a bag of MSG and sprinkle liberally (oh c’mon you know I’d never, that’s against my religion).


Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Silly Season

I’m spent.

I can do no more. I may be at work in human form, but my brain is either still at home sleeping or lolling about in a pint of beer. Either way it’s happier than my body.

I’m not just saying it either. I honestly look like I’ve been drinking heavily for the last month. My face is puffy, my eyes are red, my skin is blotchy, I’ve developed a pot belly, I’m lethargic and my hair is dull and lifeless. Wow, I’m really doing some good self-promotion here, eh?



Mah. I’m not going to do anything about it though. I’m still going out tonight (after Glenn and I take Ralph-esk photo’s of our hot friend – don’t worry, it’s kosher).



I love Christmas and the lead up to Christmas. Although it’s never been like this before. Never before have I had money, or functions to attend. But this year it’s been fest after cheery fest. I fully understand the term “silly season”.

I’m looking forward to it being Christmas Day at about 9pm. When it’s all over and we’re all thinking about sleeping for the next week (if only so we can digest all we’ve eaten… oh and stay tuned for tomorrow’s “What my Family Eats At Christmas” post).




(how much this post sucks is a reflection on how gross i feel at the moment. tcha.. i think you get the point, it's really only funny because of that first pic)

Monday, December 20, 2004

Homies

Me bitch No-mee is back in town. Ditchin’ the Fwench Coast for some good ol’ Straya (that’s Australia to you foreigners) lovin’.

She is like fully sick mate. Fully.

We met through a most excellent friend (Rikki we loooove you) about a year and a half ago. We was holidaying it up on the coast wit a bunch-o-homies and discovered we had a mutual despise of dogs.

I remember the exact moment that we became friends:

*dragging feet down to “Doggy Beach” at Point Lonsdale*

Me: Oh God, I hate dogs. This sucks major.

No-mee: This is so rank. I am wery unhappy about this.

Me: I’m so glad you’re here.

*gaze knowingly into each others eyes*

After that moment we spent much time together (our trio not complete without the lovely Lucille). All being Richmondites we roamed/ruled Swan St all summer. At one point we were drunk for about 2 months (give or take). I would turn up around midday, after recovering from last nights adventure, and we’d talk about how we were jobless, penniless, how long we waited in the line at Centrelink last time, what happened last night, where we were going tonight, the latest boinking conquest, blah, blah, blah. T’was the best time ever.

But it had to end.

Lucille moved to Point Lonsdale to study algae (she’s totally a marine biologist. Cool), write a thesis, work in a pub and meet many ruggedy chippies/sparkies/etc. We love her.

No-mee moved back to Fwance (she hangs there a lot) to study, run motels, meet ruggedy hotel managers and teach Fwench children how to play ‘Simon says”.

I kept Richmond warm for their return, got a job where I can where a lab coat, started a blog and meet not-especially-ruggedy-but-o-so-cute barfly’s.

No-mee flew back in on Saturday night and much to my delight was so ready to go out on the Stray-an streets (o’ Richmond of course) the second she got in. Best. Ever.

We ate Sam’s pizza, drank beer, told stories.

She will be back in Fwance in 2 weeks. Before then we hope to mess some shit up. Bless.

Friday, December 17, 2004

Book Book Quack Quack (and then some beer)

The great adventures of sugar and spice for Thursday, 16th of December, 2004.

Scene 1: Nerdathon
5pm. out. the. door.

There’s no stopping a gal who’s got to get to a nerdfest at book central. Especially when at this meeting of poindexters there’s a funny-man-with-a-cd-made-wit-da-lurve (fully sick), a slick when-you-leave-my-party-you-get-a-doobie dewd (he also tells bad jokes), a hot omg-i-totally-know-you’re-new-boyfriend chick, a when-i-arrive-i-do-so-in-packs-of-sexy-mama’s hotness, a flower-giving-and-“who’s-the-cutest-boy-ever”-(me!) delight, and a cinderella-who-had-to-leave-and-took-my-heart-with-her babe. Plus so many more of the coolest dweebs (ever) that it hurts.

*group hug* (I said group, not grope Sheriff)

It is like so totally cool that while we could all totally be like this


or be here

(heh. that guy totally looks like a blogger. wait... booky is that you?)

but we're not and the radness is all around. Word.


Scene 2: Duck me (yes… again)
Like I don’t know if you’se know but I totally dig on duck. So when Glenn asked me to join him at the Old Kingdom (tcha) for his Christmas Duck Work Dinner I was like: “Ah. Yah. For shizel.”

I finally met the infamous co-workers and charmed the pants off-a-them. It was the least I could do for the 3 Peking ducks! And the wine. And the squid. We laughed. We ate. We swapped good restaurants. Ian told me I could be a hand model. Ah-some.

If I had have died after that meal I would have died with a smile on my dial.

Scene 3: Beer flowing through my veins
But I didn’t die. I went to The Corner instead. Yay! Glenn and I beered. Yay! Then we meet friends. Yay! Then Jack told us about he has been in the last 2 shows that The Boosh have put on at the Comedy Festival and Sarah and I gushed. Then to fully watch our jaws drop he brought down props from the show. Yay! My lovely Benny kept buying jugs. Yay! Then we went home and had Booky’s parting gift. Yay!

Now my head is sore. But it’s OK because Kimmy at the front desk gave me a candy cane and I’m happy. I heart the festive season.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Some people ARE just dumb

There are two trains of thought associated with this dipshit

1. *clutches stomach"... I think I'm going to spew.

2. You fucking moron! Are you mental? It's a prehistoric man eater that is pissed at you hitting it's nose all the freakin' time. Good riddance

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Internet Dating


So if you’re having duck with a hot date that you met on the internet and two fully-dweeby-out-to-impress-middle-aged-men park next to you, whadaya tell ‘em?

Well the truth, of course. Opportunities to tell the truth this good don’t come along that often.

"I’m on a lesbian date with this hot chick I met on the internerd and I'm taking her out for her first ever duck. Oh. And that couple behind me… yeah, they’re my parents."

OK, so maybe we embellished a little with the lesbian thing. C’mon – you know you’d do it too. Otherwise…

Lee Lee and I were totally on our first date. Ever.

We did meet on the internet (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

We were eating duck AND it was Lee Lee’s virginal attempt.

And…

My parents (by pure coincidence) were sitting behind us.

The “clever” one, and I use that term loosely, guessed we were bloggers and proceeded to have a reasonable conversation, I think that involved John Safran (they’re both Jewish you see). Who coincidently I saw at The Corner later that night.

The “moron” (this term is more accurate), who was sitting next to me, didn’t really understand the conversation and kept trying to find out what our blogs were and where we worked and dazzle us with his inner Melbournite connections. Cool. We were like totally impressed. Ah… Hello, we ARE inner Melbournite connections. (I can totally get you a chef’s knife for cost price and then take you to see Sage Francis for free at The Corner). Whatever.

They made us laugh. Though more at them than with them. Cruel, heartless, wenches we are. He he he he. Hey Lee Lee, maybe if we had have stayed they’d have paid for our duck!

All in all… Best. First. Date. Ever.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

"So... how was it?"

Whoa. Where does one start? No really... where does one start?
Best. Weekend. Eva.

The Good Stuff
Well, this is going to be pretty broad, because nearly everything was ace.

The music
Sure a given, but it needs to be said.
Wolfmother – fucking ah-some. I’m going to track them down and marry every one of them.
Hilltops – these guys were playing after I finished my bar shift and I was super-hyped to be back in the crowd these cats sounded sick, mate.
The Dirty Three - I have never seen anything more perfect than this set. As they were setting up there was a storm rolling in. But to the revelers sheer pleasure it moved behind the stage, turning the sky pink and shooting off lightning sporadically. Omg.
Rocket Science – I heart rocket science. I’ve got a badge on my bag. When I was hussying it behind the bar wit my bitches Sarah and Cass, Roman bought a beer off me. I went all "I’m a fan" and told him about said badge, then I wished him luck for the set. I shouldn’t be allowed around celebrity types.
Sage Francis – he came out on stage in a monk’s robe. Need I say more?
The Bait – I didn’t expect Spiderbait to be on this list, yet here they are. This was fully nostalgic. Fully.

The People
I had my pose around. I love my pose. You could almost see the love. Oh, how we laughed.

This one
This one and
This one… ah-some.

For a music festival there is some ace fashion at Meredith. Love it. People are generally cool and generous. Sure, there are there’s the odd group of dicks that you want to throw your empty can at, but as a whole the crowd’s ‘got a good vide man.’

The Weather
This one’s controversial. Friday night was spent in a line of a billion cars. The storm hit and all hell broke loose. No one was getting into the festival because anyone that tried was getting bogged. So we sat until the storm passed, and then we thought. "we’ve everything kids need to party. Let’s party." And we did. 4 hours later we were in and set up. Best. fun. Eva.

Saturday was warm, muddy and cloudy. Perfect. I was still wearing a t-shirt when I crawled home at 5am.

Sunday the sun shone. We all got high on Vitamin D.

The Day After
What better to do than hang with totally rad bloggers that you’ve never seen in the flesh before? I think we’ll have fun together.


The Bad Stuff
I don’t want to bring it down, but there was some bad stuff.

Missing the Music
As much fun as it was on Friday in the car line I missed nearly the whole of Friday nights line up (say The Immortal Lee County Killers II – weren’t nuttin special).

Xavier Rudd and his band of Hippies
I just can’t handle it. Hippies waving their arms around to the moronic up-beat rhythm of Xavier Rudd. Shut. Up.

The Glow Stick
I held a glow stick. I didn’t mean it. Someone handed it to me. I did wave it *hangs head in shame* until Glenn tapped me on the shoulder and berated me. And rightly so. Consider this a public apology, it shall never happen again.


Is it nearly next December yet?


Friday, December 10, 2004

Bright Light. Bright Light.


You know the glow?

I gots the glow.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

Someone tuck me in



OK, so I’ve totally posted about Meredith a billion times. I’m excited. More so than is seen to be cool. And as a little insight to me: I’m a planner. Bet you wouldn’t have guessed that about me.

So my plan was to get fully prepared. Like…
1) Have all my camping stuff lined up neatly at the door.
2) Have my washing cleaned and pressed, so that I’ve got a full wardrobe to choose from.
3) Do my camping shopping (you know baked beans, camp-pie, 2 minute noodles… oh c’mon you know I’d never do that).
4) But most importantly I wanted to make sure I was fully rested. Because I know what happens at rockin’ music festivals.

I’ve done none of these things. And all because of the last point.

It all started on Friday night. My party. Rockin’. I can’t remember some bits. I did spew though. My room was like a vortex for all things evil and somewhat illegal. The actual party disengaged around 5 when the last set of speakers exploded. But we weren’t finished there. We cracked on ‘til 3pm Saturday. Best efforts though go to ace housemate who kept it up until 10pm, and work colleague who made it through to 2am Sunday morning. Ah-some.

Since then I’ve had sleep patterns of:
Sunday: 6 hours
Monday: 6 hours
Tuesday: 2 hours (maybe)
Wednesday: 10 (this one is less impressive, but still doesn’t make up for the others).

I’m not rested. And it’s fair to say I gets a little cranky when I’m not rested. Sleep deprivation is totally used as form of torture. The KGB, Japanese PoW camps both used it and even the good ol’ Yankers at Guantanamo Bay love a bit of this action.

And tonight’s going to be no different I’m afraid. I’ve got at least 2 dates. *sigh*

On the bright side I’m going to be camping in the hard core rock (rock as in thrashing guitar riffs and hip beats, not bits of the earths crust) infested mud for 2 nights. And loving it.

See youse there. I’ve got a shift on the Electric Possum Bar 4 -8 Saturday. Let’s cheers shall we?

Monday, December 06, 2004

Chug-a-Lug

I’ve found Australia’s best chocolate milk.

Chug-a-lug. It’s from King Island. ‘Nuff said.

It brings me back to the days when I lived in Denmark… (trust me there's a link)



I dunno if you know this, but they drink a lot of beer in Denmark. There’s this



And this



Which is what the Danes drink. Carlsberg is like the Danish equivalent of Fosters.

So think of a young impressionable 16 year old girl in the land of beer. Yep. I learnt from the best. Here’s a few things that the Danes are liberal about:
1. There is no strict drinking age. My local pub was frequented by school kids. We used to duck down when we had a spare class.
2. At school parties we would be served beer and wine by our teachers. The canteen had a beer tap for such occasions.
3. During the day you could buy cigarettes at the canteen. You could buy singles for 20 cents if you were a bit short.
4. There were boobs and bums on the tv all the time. I don’t mean after midnight I mean prime time ads. No one blinks an eye. Porn is fairly rife in DK.

People rarely abuse any of the above points. I did. A little. Hey, I was an Aussie kid and wasn’t allowed to do any of them. I didn’t do all of them. I hated cigarettes.

So with the beer there came hangovers. Often. And this is where the milk fits in. Matilde. Best. Hangover. Cure. Ever. You should know that I’m not a big fan of milk or chocolate. I know. It doesn’t make sense. But this was a new world.

Thick. Like a mixture of milk and cream. But not sickeningly creamy.

Rich. Like dark cooking chocolate. Ace.

Caramelly. None of that really sweet aftertaste that lingers in your mouth. This was classy shit.

Chug-a-Lug, while having the cheesiest name ever, is on a par with Matilde. It takes me back to a happy place. Back to teenage naughtiness, late nights, spewing in the pub, rooms lit entirely by tea lights, listening to Johnny Cash ‘Ring of Fire’ on the jukebox and staying up all night smoking pot and drinking herbal tea.

There’s nothing like a memory attached to food. Well for me anyway.

Friday, December 03, 2004

Turn That Frown Upside-down

Oh thank fuck it’s Friday.

I hate this week. It’s been the worst for a long time. And it ain’t nothing more than I’ve been living inside my head for most of it. It’s been less ‘sugar’ and more ‘spice’ and none of those nice spices like cinnamon, or cassia, or nutmeg. No, no, no more like fenugreek and celery seeds (trust me they are worse than dog’s balls – so I hear).

The two things that have boosted my mood?

1. Summer lovin’ had me a blast
Tonight’s festa festa in celebration of IT’S SUMMER! Praise the Lord. Even if no one turns up to my party I don’t care, my delectable housemates and I have a tub of sangria and we’re not afraid to use it.

It’s been far too long between parties and this one’s coming up roses. I look forward to seeing many of you there.

2. Merry Death
I just won a double pass to Meredith (no surprise to some, I’m a serial winner). Thank you Biggsy. Thank you RRR.

Yeah, sure I had my tickets. I’m working on the bar for 4 hours (drop in and we’ll have a bevvy – I’ll post the times), so free ticket city. But 2 integral team members missed the boat. Then – winner, winner, chicken dinner – I score. What this means for me is a weekend of mooching off these two friends for all it’s worth.

That’s 4 free tickets I’ve scored this year. Geez I’m a good kid to be friends with. And look my head’s expanding as I write.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

I've made it, I've really made it

What do I have in common with these fine, upstanding women?




Well, yeah, there's the obvious... the hotness and the like incredible intelligence.

But there's also this:



Yes blog fans. I'm pleased to announce my new range of beauty products. As my press release says:
"Sweet, warm and spicy. Ring any bells? Our Sugar & Spice gifts are only available in all things nice, for the girly girls on your gift list. Special edition only."

I really couldn't have done it without the love and support of all of you. It just means so much to me that *hic* I have been able to accomplish so much *sob*.

Each and everyone of you have a special place in my heart.

*cue exit music*

... and just because I've hit the big time doesn't mean I'll forget about the little people!

Thank you. Thank you.

*escorted off stage*


Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Water Activity


The question was posed last night over Taco’s by our resident funny man.

Why does bread go stale, but biscuits go soggy?

It’s an important point and one that I’m sure we’ve all pondered. Water activity, my bloggy friends, water activity. Now, I’m not talking frolicking around in your string bikini (although I’m pretty sure after Friday night’s encounter, many of you would be willing to don said bikini, and I ain’t jus’ talkin’ ‘bout da ladies). I’m talking about equilibrium.

Chemistry is all about being equal and sharing what you’ve got to be something bigger and better. I think we can all learn a little something from this. Don’t you?

Let’s take water for example. If Mr Hydrogen and his twin brother, let’s call him… Mr Hydrogen weren’t willing to share their single electron with Ms. Oxygen (nice – two men, but weird because they’re twins) we wouldn’t have water and we’d be up the non-existent creek.

“But,” I hear you thinking, “I wouldn’t consider having soggy biscuits and stale bread ‘working for the greater good’!” No. And it’s a good point. However, I didn’t say that Chemistry is always working for us (think petrol, atom bombs, cyanide), it’s just working for Chemistry.

So your bread is sitting there in the air where the relative humidity is at… hmmm… 65% (that’s average).

Your bread has an aw (water activity) of 0.95. (aw (water) = 1.0)

The biscuit has an aw of 0.3.

If you compare the two you’d have to admit the bread is fairly moist.
*nodding*
Even compared to the relative humidity of the room (which is measured on a different scale, I know, but it’s helping my point… I think)
*mutterings of agreement*.
Great.
And so then you’d say that the biscuit on the other end of scale in having a low aw
*uh huh – get to the point*.
OK. Yeah.
Thus, if everything is trying to be equal with their surroundings the water is going to osmotically move out of the bread and into area with there is a lower concentration of water (the air).
And the biscuit is going to drawn moisture from the air into, as the air has a higher concentration of water than the biscuit.

If you don’t believe me, I don’t really care. I know I’m smart. But you can experiment yourself. Put a slice of bread and a biscuit (both fresh) into a sealed air tight container and leave for a good couple of days. The biscuit and the bread should end up having a similar texture… apart from the obvious – one’s a biscuit and one’s a slice of bread.