Author Archives: Scarlett Harris

Emerging Writers Festival: Stuck in a Lift With… Rachel Hills & Gala Darling

By Posted in Events Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Being a recent expat to Melbourne, I am now relishing in the fact that I can go to an after work event, weekend market or party and not have to worry about getting the last train out of Sydney Melbourne back to the country.

However, with the advent of Twitter, anyone wearing pyjama pants can gain access to this week’s Emerging Writers Festival from the comfort of their lounge room/bed, with events all over the city as well as today’s “Stuck in a Lift With… Gala Darling” by Rachel Hills.

Hills is using the “magical bookstore” format, and each floor corresponds to Gala’s favourite book.

However, it’s not always smooth sailing, with followers interjecting their questions and comments. For a first time Twitter user, it was a bit overwhelming!

So here, in a nutshell that I have so lovingly crunched the questions into, are Hills’ 10 questions and Gala Darling’s 10 answers.

  • “What’s the first book you ever read?”

– “HAD to have been the Spot series… I also remember loving The Very Hungry Caterpillar… I really loved all that very British stuff too, like Enid Blyton & Peter Rabbit…”

  • “Are there any other kids books that you remember or are fond of?”

– “I was mad keen on the Faraway Tree series… But I was really a voracious reader, would come home from the library every Saturday with an enormous stack of books & devour them throughout the week before going back for more. Babysitters Club, Sweet Valley High, horror stories, anything spooky or supernatural or American! I was obsessed with America & their slumber parties & junk food & always felt like I was missing out being stuck in boring old New Zealand…”

  • “What were your other fave teen/coming of age books?

– “I loved Judy Blume for talking about sex… It’s weird actually, I feel like I moved from Judy Blume to Poppy Z. Brite but SURELY that’s not right. I think Anne Rice might have been the stepping stone. & Stephen King?

  • “You do a lot of travelling—what books do you like to take with you when you’re away from home?”

– “Depends on how long I’m away from home. The types of holidays I have don’t usually leave much time for reading! But I have moved house many times and I always take Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas & Lolita with me!… But usually when I travel I take the mags I haven’t yet caught up on (ughh I know), or what I’m reading at the time… No guilty faves really. I haven’t read a tabloid in years because they make me angry, haha! I love pretty much every fashion magazine though… You know what? I buy 99% of my books secondhand on Amazon. IT’S SO CHEAP. I can’t stand to pay full retail. Bad Gala!”

  • “Is there a book you turn to when things get emotional?”

– “I guess it depends on what the ‘emotion’ is. I love to comfort read, aka read stuff I know off by heart… Actually when I’m feeling emotional or moody I prefer to watch television. Entourage or SATC work every time… Lolita, Fear & Loathing, anything Bukowski, American Psycho, umm Lost Souls (shhhh)…”

  • “You’re a hugely successful writer. Is there a book that helped you learn your craft?”

– “I love Anne Lamott. There is something so brilliant, clear & deep in her writing—it is impeccably crafted. The first time I read Bird by Bird I thought my head was going to explode, & I have read it over & over. I’m also really interested in Zen Buddhism so that helps! I also like Natalie Goldberg, but don’t read lots of books on writing.”

  • “What book has taught you the most from a NON-writing perspective?”

– “Oh, big question! I feel like every book teaches you something, whether it’s how to live wilding (Fear/Loathing!) or bet on horses (Buk.!), but I guess if I could only recommend one book for life lessons, it would be The Success Principles by Jack Canfield. It is a frigging marvel. Every time I pick it up I learn something new… It is as thick as a bible, all about manifesting & integrity & keeping your word & stuff, I can’t describe!”

  • “What books have kept you late into the night?”

– “Haha, pretty much every book I’ve ever loved. I was a secretly-reading-under-the-covers child. I remember reading the Neverending Story one day (yes, one DAY!) when I had the flu & was about 10, fantastic. So it may not have kept me through the night but it certainly compelled me.”

  • “What book do you wish you had written?”

– “Ugh, Lolita. It’s like a braingasm. Every time I read it I am shocked at just HOW fucking good it is.”

  • “What book do you return to again and again?”

– “All the books I have just mentioned, plus anything by SARK, Russell Simmons’ Do You!, Dangerous Angels by Francesca Lia Block, Fear of Flying by Erica Jong, Grapefruit by Yoko Ono, House of Leaves…

I wish someone would ask me these questions should I ever have the fearful pleasure of being stuck in an elevator. I so have the answers!

(Sex) Ed Hardy

By Posted in On the Net Tagged , , , , , , , 1 Comment

 

From our friends at Jezebel, comes the latest in bogan couture; the revelation that Christian Audigier, creator of the Ed Hardy monstrosity, has released a line of condoms.

As commenter SalutLaMiss says, “Anything that keeps the dudes I meet wearing Audigier (Ed Hardy, or Von Dutch) from reproducing is totally fine by me!”

Jon Gosselin, Mike “the Situation” Sorrentino; we’re talking to you!

TV: What Once Was LOST, Now is Found?—Lost Finale

By Posted in TV Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

lost-eye

Last night was the television event of the year; the Lost finale.

And lo and behold, the theory most Losties held from the very beginning, that the island was some kind of purgatory, was semi-correct.

According to this article from Jezebel (because I need some outside sources to help me come to grips with the [trademark] confusion of the show), the sideways world we became familiar with this season was a “bardo”; a phase experienced by the deceased “between dying and rebirth” in Buddhism.

The article asserts that the sideways world was the bardo and the island the real world, however, it also states that Lost viewers can also draw their own conclusions. My conclusion is that the island was limbo, with Jacob and his brother acting as sort of archangels or guardians of the island to maintain the balance between good (the golden life force of the island) and evil (the smoke monster).

While Jack was initially chosen to replace Jacob as a guardian, he then passed the torch onto Hurley, whom I think is a much more fitting choice.

Hurley is then the new Jacob, and Ben his Richard, whom we see grow a grey hair and thus is able to move on and finally age.

Speaking of Ben, I never really bought him as the villain when he was introduced in season two as Kate, Jack and Sawyer’s hostage holder . He’s more like the misunderstood, not-so-bad guy; the one you love to hate. In the end, he was just a sad, “selfish and jealous” man who didn’t want to move on from the island, and now can’t.

Keeping in theme with the bardo—a “place that the Losties had created to reconnect with each other after they had all died”—all (and by all, I mean only the ones most relevant to the current plot) the Oceanic 815 passengers reunited, with Charlie, Jin, Sun, Sayid, Rose, Bernard, Libby, Shannon and Boone, and Juliet, Daniel Faraday, Charlotte and Penny all making appearances, in addition to Ana Lucia serving as police escort last week, and Frank found alive after the submarine blast.

The aforementioned Jezebel went full speed ahead with their Lost coverage in the lead up to the finale event, publishing an article on the top 10 already solved mysteries (Richard’s agelessness; the whispers of souls trapped on the island; the “donkey wheel” that Jacob’s brother built and Ben turned to move the island; the identity of Mocke/Smokey/whatever; Jacob’s “anointing” touch; the temple that housed the Kool-Aid that turned Sayid and Claire into zombies; the golden life-force of the island; the list that resided in Hurley’s guitar case; the “loophole” that protects twins Jacob and the Man in Black from killing each other, and their origins as twins), “10 questions to let go” of (Walt; Vincent the dog; Rose and Bernard; the creepazoid Other who tried to steal Claire’s baby, Ethan; Alex’s boyfriend Karl; the “food drops to the Hatch”; “Black Rock Journal”, which I, for the life of me, can’t remember in the show; the reason for Jack’s father Christian Shepherd’s numerous appearances on the island; and “why them?”) and “10 questions that must be answered” (what is Widmore’s deal?; why are all women doomed to miscarry if a child was conceived on the island; the statue at the foot of the island; Claire and Sayid’s zombie-esque transformations; “the sideways universe”; the revelation that the island was under water in the first episode of this season; who is Desmond?; who is Eloise Hawking?; what’s the go with “Jacob’s army”?; and the name of the Man in Black). Disappointingly, barely any of these mysteries were wrapped up in the finale. (Desmond, Vincent, Rose, Bernard, the reason for the parallel universe, why Hurley, the Kwon’s etc. were “chosen” and, surprisingly, Christian Shepherd’s role were the main arcs, with the rest going by the wayside.)

The willingness of most of the original cast, including Dominic Monaghan, Sonya Walger, Elizabeth Mitchelland Ian Somerhalder who were all working on other projects (albeit mostly flops; the ill-fated FlashForward and V, respectively, while Somerhalder’s Vampire Diaries enjoys more success), to return for the finale hints, perhaps, at a Lost movie to continue the saga. A much needed continuation of the saga, I might add.

In other news, the performances on the parts of Matthew Fox (Jack) and Terry O’Quinn (Locke), in particular, were stellar, and I loved how the focus was on the Darth vs. Luke, Lennon vs. McCartney, Lauren vs. Heidi-esque feud between those two characters as to what was best for the island and its inhabitants.

Also, the Jack/Sawyer/Kate love triangle was brought to a close, with Kate choosing Jack, and Sawyer pairing back up with Juliet. Kate was kickass in killing Mocke, whom I think was eliminated far too easily and early in the piece.

Ultimately, like any good series, it was as much about the bond between the characters and the “shared human experience” as it was about the hard-to-follow, unbelievable and sometimes downright convoluted plot points. But, all in all, while I liked the emotional aspects of the episode and the reunion of the Jack, Locke et al, especially with the disclosure of Christian and Desmond’s true purposes, I was very disappointed in the culmination, which I’m sure a lot of other Losties are too.

Elsewhere: [Jezebel] Lost Finale Recap: Case Closed.

[Jezebel] 10 Questions Lost Needs to Answer.

TV: The Last Tango… For the Season—Gossip Girl Season Three Finale.

By Posted in TV Tagged , , , , , , 3 Comments

It’s all about the season finales. Last night, Gossip Girl; tonight, LOST.

After last week’s cliff-hanger, GG’s season finale deals with the fallout from Jenny’s scheming ways when she interfered with the gang’s sting operation to catch out William van der Woodsen in his lie, and what will happen if Blair decides to take Chuck up on his ultimatum to meet him atop the Empire State Building before 7:01pm, or he’ll “forever close my heart to you”.

Dan made a surprise appearance in the back of a limo with Serena last week, comforting her after she said goodbye to her father. Another shocker ensues, when Jenny catches Dan and Serena asleep in bed together, and takes a picture of them to blast on Gossip Girl. The dialogue between the two that follows goes a little something like this:

Dan: “Last night… was a mistake.”

Serena: “We’re both in relationships. We just fell asleep…”

Dan: “… After an entire bottle of wine, and a whole lot of talking…”

Serena: “… And one kiss.”

Uh-oh.

Meanwhile Blair, a heavily pregnant Dorota acting as date chaperone and rugby boy Cameron take a detour “off this island” of Manhattan to Brooklyn to put Little J and Dan in their places for “messing with the people I love.”

Dorota tries to urge Blair to meet Chuck, adding that “I defriend Mr. Chuck on Facebook and in life,” but that she mustn’t do the same. Blair is having none of it.

Point in this episode echo the pilot, when Serena returns from boarding school and Chuck tries to put the moves on Jenny. This time around, it’s Jenny being banished to Hudson to live with her mother and see out the school year. But not before she finds time to get deflowered by a dejected Chuck, who waited for Blair “wearing a bow tie and carrying peonies”, to no avail.

Chuck shouldn’t have moved so fast in attempting to get over Blair, as she shows up on his doorstep, explaining that Dorota had her baby and that’s why she was late.

Aww, it seems everything is hunky dory.

Not so fast!

In the dramatic season final, there are several OMG moments, the first one being that Chuck proposes to Blair at the hospital, which is interrupted by a punch to Chuck’s head from Dan, who has found out what unravelled between he and Jenny. Needless to say, Blair never wants to see Chuck again. No, this time she, like, really is serious, you guys!

Serena decides she needs a break from Nate, citing the oft-used “it’s not you, it’s me” response when Nate asks “why?” Nate proceeds to devour Chuck’s little black book when he leaves for Prague.

Blair hitches a ride with her mother and Cyrus to Paris, and invites Serena along for the ride. Dan gets wind of this and Googles Air France, only to be interrupted by none other than hellcat Georgina Sparks, claiming that she has something of Dan’s… which just happens to be residing in her womb! (OMG moment #2.)

The season ends with a shot—pardon the pun—of Chuck exiting a Prague club and being mugged. In an effort to “protect the past” in the form of Blair’s would-be engagement ring, Chuck is shot (OMG moment #3)!

OMG, indeed.

Until September, XOXO.

Book Review: Another City, Not My Own by Dominick Dunne.

By Posted in Book Reviews Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 12 Comments

Two weeks ago I reviewed the lacklustre The Mansions of Limbo by Dominick Dunne. But as my favourite author, Dunne can do no wrong in my eyes. This time around, I’m reviewing the book that changed my life, Another City, Not My Own.

There’s nothing in particular that makes it a life changing book for probably anyone other than myself, but after I’d read it, there was no going back. I picked up the “novel in the form of a memoir” in mid 2009 after reading O.J. Simpson’s confessional, If I Did It. I had become fascinated and obsessed with the case, and Dunne’s commentary in the afterword was my first encounter with the famous name dropper.

I’m sure I Wikied him, as I do all new authors and books I come across to better familiarise myself with their writing and whether I want to commit to a book by them, and found out that Dunne was a Hollywood producer whose drug and alcohol fuelled lifestyle caused his wife to divorced him and the industry to shun him. Dunne became a recluse, penning his first New York Times Bestseller, The Winners, in a cabin in Oregon.

The murder of his daughter, Poltergeist star Dominique Dunne, and the subsequent “slap on the wrist” her killer—and boyfriend—received drew Dunne out of the woodwork and into the public glare once again. He became an advocate for victims rights and justice brought against rich and famous offenders, covering such high-profile cases as the trial of Claus von Bülow, charged with attempted murder as his estranged wife Sunny lay in a vegetative state after an alleged insulin overdose; Kennedy relatives Michael Skakel and William Kennedy Smith, serving time for the murder of teenage neighbour Martha Moxley (on which the 1993 novel, A Season in Purgatory, is based) and acquitted of rape charges, respectively; the Menedez murders; and, of course, the O.J. Simpson trial, for Vanity Fair. I could not get enough of his storied history and fascinating accounts of the dark side of Hollywood.

While I have only read a small sampling of Dunne’s published books, as they are quite hard to get a hold of, I just knew from the first self-deprecating paragraphs denouncing his credibility as a crime reporter and mention of the notorious footballer cum alleged murderer cum black hero O.J., as with all good books, that this was going to be one to remember.

Another City, Not My Own chronicles Dunne’s alter ego Gus Bailey’s return from New York back to the city that ruined his life, Los Angeles, for the murder trial of O.J. Simpson. It’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s fictionalised (Dunne’s real son Griffin is now Bailey’s son Grafton; A Season in Purgatory is the narrator’s book-turned-miniseries), and such famous names as Elizabeth Taylor, Frank Sinatra, the Spellings, Michael Jackson and Heidi Fleiss make guest appearances, if only in the form of dinner table gossip fodder. In addition, the larger-than-life main players, O.J., Nicole Brown Simpson, the Goldman family, Kim, Khloe and Kourtney’s dead daddy Robert Kardashian, pool boy Kato Kaelin, racist cop Mark Furhman, Nicole’s drug addicted friend, Faye Resnick, and super-lawyers, prosecutor Marcia Clark, and the arrogant Johnnie Cochran for the defence, make Another City, Not My Own read like a salacious gossip mag or blockbuster movie.

This book boats a twist, turn and pop culture reference on every page, making your eyes race to keep up as your mind tries to savour the action, because once you’ve read the shock ending, which links to another high profile ’90s murder, there’s no going back.

Related: The Mansions of Limbo by Dominick Dunne Review.

It’s Time to Use Your “Library Voice”.

By Posted in On the Net Tagged , , , , , , 1 Comment

Sung J. Woo writes in The New York Times’ Complaint Box about the “lost library voice” and how she reminisces of a bygone era when “the only sounds [in the library] were shuffles, whispers and the occasional shush—delivered with an index finger crossing the lips of a bespectacled, cardigan-wearing librarian.”

She wonders, “when did libraries become a cacophonous combination of café, video store, music store, computer lab and playground?”

I feel ya, sister.

Recently I went to the Melbourne City Library in Flinders Lane, thinking I would spend the day catching up on reading and preparing for the launch of this blog. Oh, how wrong I was.

For some unbeknownst reason, there is a café next to the entrance, the sounds from which carry up the stories and into my cosy (and by cosy, I mean not-so-cosy; air-conditioning in winter? I don’t think so!) little study bubble, permeating my concentration. If I wanted to listen to the clatter of a restaurant kitchen, I’d go to one. Next time, I think I’ll just stay home.

Woo relays the story of “two teenage girls” who “clamped on headphones and proceeded to talk to each other while enjoying their music. Have you ever tried conversing with someone wearing Princess Leia-like headphones?” No, no I haven’t. ’Cause when I’m hanging out with friends, I want to hang out with them, not their iPods.

Hilariously, this problem transfers to adolescent internet usage at the library. “… they log onto the public computers to watch their favourite YouTube videos while opening up 15 windows of Instant Messenger. They may be quietly typing ‘LOL’, but they are also literally laughing out loud.”

Another phenomenon libraries have been experiencing is the “urban sprawl”, where the homeless move away from the big cities and to the outer suburbs to utilise their facilities, namely libraries. While this is all well and good if they’re being used for educational and legitimate recreational reading/listening/watching/internetting purposes, the majority of the time libraries are being used as a sleeping place, a place to look at inappropriate web content, and a place to come in from the cold.

I have personally experienced this at my home town’s local library. I had an hour or so to kill before meeting a friend, so I decided to duck into the library to read an online magazine. I picked a computer that had two free ones on either side, which was a mistake in itself. I should have picked one in between two normal-looking folks. So I’m happily absorbed in my magazine, when a shabbily-dressed, low attention-spanned young man in need of some deodorant sat next to me. We each stole glances at the others’ screen; he gawked at pictures of models on my screen while I grimaced as he audibly attempted to secure an online date. Oh, the people you meet, hey?!

Again, I have no problem with libraries being used for the purposes they’re intended for by a wide range of people, but to borrow a phrase from a psychologist who recently ran a “Dealing with Difficult Customers” seminar at my workplace, libraries “are not your home/bedroom/kitchen/bathroom” etc., so you shouldn’t be having sex/eating/grooming/having domestic issues in them!

However, I have been guilty of not using my “library voice” a time or two. At the aforementioned home town library, I happened to bump into a friend whilst visiting for the weekend. It was very serendipitous as she now lives only blocks away from me in the western suburbs of Melbourne. As it was almost closing time and not many people around, we chatted about work, love, life for a good 15 minutes, throwing caution to the wind. Were we abusing the purpose of the library? Perhaps, but what about the children?

This is a common argument between the haves and haves not (children, that is); remember on Sex & the City when Samantha was at a restaurant on her cell phone, when the waiter asked her to put it away as they don’t allow them inside. Samantha obliged, but retorted with “well, what are you going to do about that?”, pointing to a child slopping around his pesto. The waiter responded, “that’s a child”; basically, there’s nothing to be done about a child. I believe this was also the episode in which Carrie perceived she was being punished for not having—nor wanting—children when her $400 Manolo’s were stolen from a baby shower.

Woo continues: “… Tykes are burning up the carpet. I cannot remember the last time I went to my library when children were not playing hide-and-seek in the stacks, shrieking as they chased one another.”

And where are the parents? “Nowhere to be seen.”

Oh, I hear you! My life revolves around a good book, in a nutshell, so whenever I get the chance to peacefully sit down with one outside my home, I do not want to be overhearing my carriage-mate’s iPod, especially if it’s a song I recognise (SexyBack, anyone?). I do not want to be sitting in a café, trying to tune out when a mothers club meeting is commencing at the table next to me, especially if one of the children has the same name as me. And I certainly do not want to be approached by the crazies on the tram/train/bus/library/park bench seat/cafe table/anywhere basically, especially when I’m trying to read!

Elsewhere: [City Room] Complaint Voice: The Lost “Library Voice”.

Why Are Famous Men Forgiven for Their Wrongdoings, While Women Are Vilified for Much Less?

By Posted in Feminism, In the News Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 27 Comments

In Perez Hilton’s words, “2010 has really been the year of the cheater”. First we had Tiger Woods’ cheating scandal, which broke late last year but has continued to be a headline grabbing story, then Jesse James’ spiral of shame, and now David Boreanaz, who went public a few weeks ago with news that he cheated on his wife of almost nine years, Jaime Bergman.

And last year was the year of the sports scandal, you might say, with the Matthew Johns group sex story coming to light in May.

What do all these men, with, perhaps, the exception of James, have in common? Their shady pasts have virtually been forgotten in favour of their more positive talents. Boreanaz plays the lead in hit TV series Bones, Johns now hosts his own self-titled show, and Tiger is back on the Masters tour.

While the wrongdoings of the Australian underworld are being glorified on Underbelly no one bats an eyelid. To take it even further, O.J. Simpson, although acquitted of double murder, was held up as a hero amongst African Americans in Los Angeles following his trial, despite being thought of as guilty in the court of public opinion.

Perhaps this is just a sign of the times changing; that our society has become so desensitised to notions of war, violence, drugs and sexual depravity that they are not longer taboo. I would argue that this is true to some extent it is not reflected on the other end of the spectrum.

For example, a recently refurbished Heidi Montag admitted to undergoing 10 cosmetic surgical procedures in one day because she wasn’t happy with the way she looked. She obviously has deep-rooted body dysmorphic issues, however instead of helping and supporting her, the public has turned on her.

The same could be said of the Britney Spears’ and Lindsay Lohans’ of the world. A recent Jezebel article, “In Defence of Lindsay Lohan”, was in support of the former child star everyone loves to hate.

Sure, Lindsay has a father who “is a nightmare… and her mother is more of a friend than a parental figure. So perhaps she is lacking in guidance and role models. But who among us, in some way, is not? Her experience [of growing up in the spotlight]… is not one many people can relate to, anyway.”

The author surmises that the public’s fascination with Lindsay and their “build-you-up-to-take-you-down” mentality is much simpler: “She’s 23-years-old and being ripped to shreds in the press mostly because she goes out at night.”

Right. Someone like Colin Farrell has had a sex tape released, sexual misconduct allegations brought against him and has battled substance abuse problems, however he is still held up as a Golden Globe-winning actor. We all know Lindsay has the acting chops, it’s just a matter of her getting out of her own way. Double standard? In the words of Sarah Palin, you betcha!

The beautifully tragic Marilyn Monroe and Anna Nicole Smith were, and still are, vilified for being just that. Even in death, the girls can’t catch a break.

So that brings us back to the question, why do men get away with so much more than women can? Or, more to the point, why are men almost celebrated for their wrongdoings while women are banished into social oblivion?

I think, in a nation that celebrates sport as the highest level of achievement, especially, we want to give our sportsmen the benefit of the doubt. While I do think we focus too much on sport as the be all and end all of success in Australia, and the very nature of being “Australian”, it can be seen as admirable to offer someone a second chance. Johns, for example, could be seen as brave for coming forward and being the only one of his Cronulla Sharks teammates to own up to his mistake. But I do think it’s a bit soon to be running a television show off his back.

However, we also like to kick people when they’re down. Britney Spears, for example, was heralded as the princess of pop in her golden days, but when she started donning pink wigs, speaking to herself in a British accent in the gutter, and being carted off to the looney bin, we wanted nothing to do with her. Oh, I’m sorry, only to denigrate her on the cover of tabloid magazines.

Then last year she launched her comeback tour, and everyone was back on her side. That is, until, she lip synched (come on, it’s Britney! When has she ever not lip synched?) her way through Australia and out of our collective consciousness.

But how many second chances are we going to give these men, in particular? Charlie Sheen was embroiled in his latest domestic dispute over Christmas last year. But what of his past child pornography, prostitute and drug allegations? Not to mention the shooting of ex-girlfriend Kelly Preston in a domestic dispute. Do we just sweep them under the rug too so that Sheen can keep the $1.2 million per episode of Two & a Half Men coming?

When these mistakes are hurting people other than themselves, maybe it’s time to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. Do we really care if Lindsay, Britney or Mischa are off to rehab again? And shouldn’t we be caring that Jesse James allegedly ran dog fights out of his West Coast Choppers headquarters and is apparently a white supremacist? Or that Sheen is essentially being rewarded by the cash cow that is Hollywood for his reprehensible behaviour? Or that Tiger slept—and somehow found time to golf—his way across the country in a narcissistic bubble of admiration from his countrymenand women?

Related: All Eyes on Marilyn.

Elsewhere: [Jezebel] In Defence of Lindsay Lohan.

Things Bogans Like

By Posted in On the Net Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 9 Comments

Riding on the back of the success of Stuff White People Like, new-ish blog Things Bogans Like is my latest online discovery.

Amongst the things bogans like: Bear Grylls (sorry all my definitely-not-bogan guy—and girl—friends); 3D (ie. Avatar—again, sorry!); the Logies; pre-mixed drinks; Aussie frickin’ hip hop; celebrity fragrances (guilty; I have succumbed to a few of these over the years); Hey, Hey It’s Saturday; anal (and no, not the retentive kind); the Lynx Effect; forgiving celebrities (more on that to come); Pandora bracelets (I second that; can’t stand Pandora!); doing their back in; Zoo Weekly; ADHD; Two & a Half Men; St. Patrick’s Day; tabloid “news” shows A Current Affair and Today/Tonight; News Ltd. newspapers; their children on Facebook; La Porchetta; Ministry of Sound; Southern Cross tattoos; glassing—excuse my French—c*nts; joining moronic Facebook groups; Thailand; tribal tattoos; “F*ck off, we’re full” stickers; pretty much everything to do with weddings; The Secret, and self-help books in general; Sexpo; glamour photography; Holdens; Underbelly; the Melbourne Cup (coming from a country town, just about every Cup!); personalised number plates; misspelling their kids’ names; books… but only after the movie comes out; prefacing racist statements with “I’m not racist, but…”; and my two favourite markings of the bogan: tramp stamps and Ed Hardy—the uniform of the bogan!

This is a website worth checking out, as it is updated daily. So long as the bogan continues to flourish in Australian culture, so too will Things Bogans Like.

Passive Aggressive, Much?

By Posted in On the Net Tagged 1 Comment

Those of you who know me, know that I’m fairly passive aggressive. I have been working on expressing my feelings of late, but in the spirit of staying true to yourself, here are some passive aggressive notes I dug up from none other than… erm… Passive Aggressive Notes!

You will notice the next two notes have been posted in/on the fridge. In my workplace, missing food is a common occurance. Happened just last week to a friend of mine, in fact. Maybe I should adopt this strategy…

I don’t have an office job (this blog is my office job!), so missing printouts is not really a concern of mine. But, oh, how funny these notes are!

Spelling mistakes = massive pet peeve of mine.

And these last two are GOLD.

Toffee Apples & Newspaper Hats: Peter Combe at Ding Dong Bar, Melbourne.

By Posted in Events Tagged , 1 Comment

Last Friday night I had the pleasure of seeing one of my favourite childhood performers Peter Combe, of “Toffee Apple”, “Juicy, Juicy Green Grass” and “Newspaper Mama” fame, live at Ding Dong Bar in Melbourne.

I was not expecting it to be so “live and rocking”, but the atmosphere was great, and everyone really got into it.

I have to admit, I haven’t listened to Combe since high school, when my best friend and I would dig out the old tapes and records (I’m really showing my age now, aren’t I?!) and sing along to my favourite song, “Baghdad”.

Once Combe sung the familiar lyrics—“Where’s your bag, Dad, your bag? You left your bag, Dad, in Baghdad”—I was a happy “Little Caterpillar”.

Word on the street is that there will be a Christmas show at the Corner Hotel this year, and the Ding Dong show is set to be an annual occurrence. With toffee apples and newspaper hats on arrival, what more could we ask? Childhood nostalgia at its best.