Reasons You Will Hate Me

Friends in high places.

2007-08-20T09:14:00.000+10:00

So if this lightly shickered chap can make it all the way to the top pretty well unencumbered...

...then I don't see why the Government is getting so excited about Kevin's night on the tiles. John Howard is crazy for problem drinkers, right?

Unless, you know, he thinks ol' George's indiscretions should be left in the past and so on.

86 days til the next election.

p.s. Lady Grattan once again hits the nail on the head here. Admire her freely.

Friday q and a #81.

2007-08-17T23:34:00.000+10:00

aka: The Peter Costello Memorial 50th Birthday Q and A In The Round Spectacular. Didn't our esteemed Treasurer just have a marvellous birthday week? I must remember to buy him a cocktail when we're next rubbing elbows in a noisy bar.

My heart and mind are far away in Tokyo today, but I'll do my best to focus on something other than koigokoro for long enough to tackle a few of these Friday questions...

MelbourneGirl said...
"when in doubt, jive".

i'm adding that to my fits' inspired list of how to live life well.

"make some fashion" was the first entry.

not a question, no. but i'm hoping you're well and all that.

Can I add 'eat at least one fiendishly expensive dinner a month' to that list, MG? I knocked over The Press Club on Wednesday and will be dreaming about their melty-butter lamb for the better part of the rest of my life. I may even frame a photograph of it and place it on my mantel to tell my grandchildren about when they inevitably gather around to hear my winsome tales of life in the fast lane.

Anonymous said...
Just how many tramp stamps do you have Ms Fits.?

Seven. One for every day of the week, though they're a bitch to handwash if you accidentally miss laundry day.

Anonymous said...
http://canberra.yourguide.com.au/detail.asp?story_id=1034359

my question is, what do you think?

I think it's absolutely wonderful, actually.

'In an astonishing outburst, Foreign Minister Alexander Downer yesterday accused a 17-year-old Canberra schoolboy of being a stooge for the Labor Party.'

Yet another brilliant example of Alexander 'Syndrome' Downer coping admirably when faced with an eloquent and competent adversary. It's one step up from 'YOU ARE', isn't it? Why he didn't just throw himself to the floor and pound his tiny fists in fury until he wet his pants is utterly beyond me.

Alex Meekin of Narrabundah College, you are RYWHM's Hasty Pudding Man Of The Week. Please enjoy the sash but give it back when you're done as it will require a light dustbusting.

Anonymous said...
Have you ever had anal sex? If so, what are your perceptions?

What are my perceptions? I don't know, the same as everybody else's I suppose: potentially a bit hurty but possibly of a highly pleasurable standard if done correctly and 17 million homosexuals can't be wrong, etc. It's not everyone's cup of tea either, so just you boys be careful when stabbing away in the dark with your erect penis as no-one likes a nasty surprise in their bottom, not even Stephen Milligan.

Anonymous said...
I hate my body. I know I look fat. I am horribly, horribly wide, especially in the shoulders. And I have a pin head. Sometimes I eat way too much and then induce vomiting, yet I put on weight anyway because I can never get it all up - not quite. And I'm scared my teeth will start to rot.

Do you ever feel fat? You seem self confident and happy with the way you look. How do you manage to be that way? Would you change anything about your body and weight?

Oh, Anon. Of course I have days when I feel heinous and particularly un-keen to leave the house and take to the streets, but it passes eventually after the sort of high-energy Chris and Marie 'Hello Hello'-type talking to that has various bystanders glancing somewhat strangely and throwing loose change when they think you've finished. There's no real magic trick to trying to put your festy, self-prodding brain aside and simply get on with your day wearing a polka-dot mini and a HAY WORLD LOOK ME OVER split-face grin - just a determined effort and constant reminder that you're not so bad in the scheme of things and if Tony Abbott can get laid more than once in his life you're positively assured of kissing and sex for infinity.

With regards to changing things about myself, I don't know. Not really. I've had days where I've rather wished to be taller but then I rest my head on the shoulder of a perfectly proportioned lanky gentleman and realise I'm quite happy down here where the little folk roam. Besides which, I'd probably look pretty stupid if I was tall as I wear children's clothes.

p.s. Please don't focus so much on the parts you hate - it's a wretched cliche, but it truly is a waste of your time. When you're lying on your four-poster deathbed in years to come surrounded by sad-eyed kidlettes and a morose greyhound named Ray the last thing you're going to wish is that you'd spent more time in your young adulthood cursing your thighs and attending Step Reebok classes. You're going to wish you ate more Mersey Valley Cheddar. Now get to the fridge at once.

freehugstommy said...
Hello again Ms Fitz. How are you? (I know that's generally been answered and all, but hey.)

Anyway, I am about to move to our exciting capital to start a job in the Public Service. In fact, by the time you post the next Q'n'A, I will be in the fine city on the banks of Burly-Griffen.
Am I totally insane?
And, taking that into account (regardless of the answer), what is good to do in Canberra for a 23 year old who will be suffering withdrawl from being a drunken uni student? (You clearly know Canberra well. I saw that blue-list show.)

(I think i use too many brackets)

I am exceptionally well freehugstommy, thankyou for asking.

I'm not sure I should be considered an expert on Canberra as I have been in its fair embrace for all of forty-eight hours, thirty-six of which were spent being shunted inelegantly from location to location and being told where to stand by a camera crew. Luckily a trusty commenting friend is here to assist...

karen said...

I'm going to assume that while you're obviously a dashing young go-getter (what with the career move to Canberra and all) you are, at heart, a scruffy scrappy thing with excellent taste in all things. For drinking and some quiter music: The Phoenix. For drinking and general entertainment eclecticness: Toast. For drinking and occasional jazz and othertimes good music on the stereo: Hippo.
However, if you're a collar up polo shirt wearing leery douche, please stick to Mooseheads.

Actually, if you're a collar up polo shirt wearing leery douche I am going to request you leave this blog immediately and DON'T LOOK BACK LEST YOU TURN INTO A PILLAR OF SALT and other such exciting threats which were either from the Bible or Greek mythology; I can't recall as I am ineducated.

freehugstommy said...
Thank you muchly for the advice Karen. Quieter music, general entertainment eclecticness, occasional jazz and othertimes good music on the stereo, and the drinking that accompanies all three do indeed sound very much the ticket. And, if I have at any time worn a polo shirt with the collar up (which i certianly haven't done sober or without great amounts of sarcasm and self-hate), then I would have deservedly been beaten by everyone i have ever met. So, it sounds like Mooseheads will be a no.
Also, thank you for the assumption of taste. I do hope you are correct.
Sorry for hijacking your q'n'a Fitz. Although, at least I am more polite about it than the two posts above me.

Hijacking more than welcome, young man. Your social standing is of grave importance to me as I am at heart a sedate Aunty figure who lives vicariously through others.

Any other Canberrians looking to show freehugstommy a good time (within reason) please let us know via the comments. Presumably he'll give 'free hugs', which is not an offer to be sniffed at in today's competitive marketplace.

simbobaggins said...
Fitzy

I was out this evening playing a gig.It is particular to this venue that there are people ranging in age from 18-65.An odd mix, but it works..

Being on stage playing music is an ideal place to observe many facets of the human condition(ive seen a lot of weird shit in my time), but from what i saw tonight,everyone over 30 seemed to be dancing with whoever they were with and having a good time, where as the "youngies" were busy dancing with themselves completely ignoring their pals and wearing expressions that could have only come about by poking mudcrabs up their arses with burnt sticks.

Its really bizzarre to watch.

But-and now to my question-is this current generation of young kids even more self-absorbed than we(the thirty somethings) were, or have i just turned into my dad (A grumpy old sod) overnight?And if so,how did this happen without me being aware?

'Poking mudcrabs up their arses with burnt sticks'? Gracious me. This hardly seems a wholesome hobby for the fresh-faced generation to be taking up. Is it some kind of new Facebook activity I'm yet to have thrust upon me via notifications NO I DO NOT WISH TO JOIN YOUR PIRATE ZOMBIE ALCOHOLIC BITING PARTY THANKING YOU IN ADVANCE.

Anyway, I'll put aside the fact that I'm somewhat desperate to know which band you play in and where the devil one would entertain such a wide and varied crowd (eighteen to sixty five? Was it a cast party for 7th Heaven?) to answer your queries one at a time:

1. 'They' are no more self-absorbed than we were at their age. I saw a particularly louche young man swigging from a wine bottle in a tram and staring at the ceiling whilst quite clearly feeling sexier than Bowie and was part-way through rolling my eyes at his emo pretentiousness when I recalled partaking in an almost identical activity in years previous though possibly in a more revealing outfit. At that age you are in control of the world and utterly unbreakable. It's only through tiptoeing into your thirties that folk start getting the fears up about all kinds of ridiculous notions as we are now officially uncool morons.

2. Yes, you have turned into your dad overnight. WE HAVE EACH OF US TURNED INTO OUR DADS OVERNIGHT. For me this is a less frightening prospect as my dad is still hugely entertaining and likes to drink wine and talk to himself (the transformation hasn't been much of a stretch, to be honest), though being at a party with free liquor last Sunday night and complaining loudly about being unable to hear over the music was a bit of a rude shock even for me and I live with myself every day.

3. I'm sorry, simbobaggins. As much as we'd like these things to make themselves known to us via a series of telegrams or Facebook updates ('Simbobaggins is: about to officially turn into his father. Send help'), the truth of the matter is that one day you're hotwiring a car with Luke Fittolani and wearing a pair of knickers as a superhero mask and the next you're spending an entire overseas holiday privately converting pounds to dollars in your head and being appalled at how much the British charge for a toasted sandwich and a cup of tea. It's an awful business, but we're each of us going to experience it. Hold tight, brother.

anne altman said...

Dearest Mizz Fitzz,
Long timey no writey, so here we go:

Date #1: I went to home to his place and left with my bra in my purse, letting him only smooch me, feel my cans, and walk me to a taxi.

Date #2: After dinner I refused to go to his place, but when I got home, I got a picture phone shot of his erect cock.

Date #3: Deciding that this dude is only after one thing and that perhaps I was in the mood for that thing, I went to his house to fool around a bit. He sort of fell asleep and then a few hours later, asked me to leave b/c he was having stomach problems (ie: wanted to blow his ass out in peace?)Mind you, I have never been kicked out of a bed in my entire life.

Do I bother with Date #4?
Will there be a Date #4?

The only reason I ask is because though the dude appears to have a smallish sized dink, he has mega bucks.

Yours,
anne

Anne Altmann, how we've missed you and your insouciant class.

I say a resounding no to date #4, mega bucks or not. If the guy really wanted to jump your bones he might have managed to pull a move on you WHILE YOU WERE IN HIS FUCKING PLACE OF RESIDENCE OFFERING YOURSELF UP LIKE A BUCKET OF SAUCY NAKED FRIED CHICKEN. What kind of man falls asleep during heavy petting and then decides he'd rather spend the night cosying up with a hot water bottle instead of raising the roof with some jazzed-up crumpet? I'll tell you what kind: the homosexual kind. That or the kind who curl up in a ball and cry whenever you try to touch them on the wing-wang as a result of 'personal issues'/third degree burns. Cut him loose and to hell with him, Altmann. You're better than this and you know it.

This person disagrees:

Anonymous said...

anne, go for date #4. you deserve each other. you both sound like you're 14 yrs old !

I don't think you'd say that if you spent a happy few hours reading her blog, Anon. My favourite posts are the Weird Wedding series, but I'm sure you can find your own personal highlight.

Easily Confused said...

Hello Ms Fits,

So glad Friday Q & A is back, I missed it and think you're an ace chick & pleased to hear you've been happily busy (cue for some troll to call me a sycophant, jeez the trolls are outta control lately).

I'm fascinated, where do you get sheets to fit an octagonal bed? Do you just forgo fitted sheets or does a king size fitted work? Maybe you just tuck in a flat sheet as your bottom sheet?

My other question- what is the deal (as Seinfield would say) with the GIANT MEGA shoulder tote bags young women are currently carrying around?

Honestly there are girls walking around Sydney with shoulder bags the size of a decent suitcase. Is developing scoliosis the new fashion trend?

What's wrong with a nice sensible backpack?

1. Actually, king-sized sheets suit the ol' octagon just fine. I also have a massively comfortable doona that seems to manage draping over me and Bob Ellis and whoever else is game enough to join us in our den of ill-repute. Applicants welcome (must be ginger).

2. Oh, PLEASE don't ask me questions about handbags or shoes. I recently showed myself up in front of a proper lady when I expressed unbridled confusion at her two and a half thousand dollar handbag and she looked at me with an expression not far from pity. Wtf is going on with the fairer sex and fashionable accoutrements? If they're not getting excited about a pair of shoes so click-clacky and wee they seem to be made solely for Chinese women who have their feet forcibly bound by the phallocracy, they're making squee noises about massive bags that could fit a small deer inside. I do so admire you lasses, but I can't make head nor fucking tail of you sometimes.

p.s. As long as my bag is big enough to carry two books, some Hydrodol, lipstick and an inordinate amount of paper I don't give two flying dutchmen what it looks like.

karen said...

No questions (feel free to spank me for my transgression) but some advice...

Fits: if on your jaunts to Spain you make it to Grenada (oh do try as it is so beautiful and lovely there) go to Bar Reca. As is their sexy Spanish way, each new drink gets you a new tiny tapas dish of swoon inducing deliciousness. NB. swoon inducing etc also applied to the bar tender at the time.
If in Barcelona, you need to try and have an evening tipple on the roof of La Pedrera. I never got to do this and this makes me a little sad in my heart.
I also remember a bar that had an archery range. For true!

I will endeavour to seek out all these places, Ms. Karen. And thank you. Although the idea of getting shickered on a-grade Sangria and then picking up a bow and arrow to wave blurrily around the room terrifies the well-behaved only child in me somewhat.

Andy Pants said...

I hate to brake this to you but I have a new celebrity crush, Regina Spektor. But perhaps we could just be friends?

Yes, let's be. And I completely support your new crush as she is an unmitigated foxtress.

p.s. Can I have a crack if you ever get tired of her? I promise she'll be returned only slightly shop-soiled.

Happy 4085th US soldier killed George W Bush click here.... said...

click there...

I agree with you that graphic and disturbing images of war need to be seen by the general public in order to fully understand the horror of what is taking place 'over there' Happy 4085th, though I should warn any RYWHM readers who may be very small children or in an open-plan office or perhaps both (I've seen Bugsy Malone and I know how pint-sized kidlettes can get ahead in business) that should you click on the above link you will see brains splattered all over Iraq like so many background extras in a George A Romero movie. Please tread carefully and don't blame me if you puke blood.

Anonymous said...

3 times, to the same man.
care to elaborate? (i guess you don't really have a choice do you - ha!)

We married once a year for three years and it was all rather desperately romantic and an excuse for an exotic knees-up, to be perfectly honest. First wedding was in a forest, second deliberately bad taste in a Croatian hall with pink walls, and the third in a kimono (me) and Samurai warrior outfit (him) at a Japanese retreat. He is still keen to have a split-up party where we send out some wooden boats into a lake and set them on fire, but I'm not sure it's entirely necessary.

Anonymous said...

Pussy Face is such a tramp stamp covered cunt oh my christ!

Oi slag, I don't need to see your war torn beaver on TV no more.

Delete this comment you censoring cunt. Hardy deletes plenty of comments people.

Guess what, tramp stamps are for tramps. You sick disordered cunt.

I do delete some comments if I feel they are mindlessly abusive, yes. Though you'll note I've kept this rather festive and highbrow one as I am a fan of the creative stanza.

The Happy Revolutionary said...

Perhaps if the anons were getting some, they'd be less fixated on the orifii of a blogger they've presumably never met. Satisfied guys don't behave like this. Just sayin, is all.

My question - where should the good folk of Melbourne converge, should there be a reason to drink this election night? Fed square is more for soccer games. Perhaps rooftop drinking on the top of Trades Hall?

Actually, we're planning on having a Polichicks party on the night (I am wearing one of our new hoodies as we speak; excitement unparalleled), so I'll keep you posted. I'll be the one rocking back and forth in the corner completely unable to speak English. If you see me, buy me a nice drink and lead me by the hand to an adult.

Tallinja said...

Ms Fitz, if you were, say, drinking yourself into oblivion post-traumatic breakup, would you choose vodka or rum? Also, what's your opinion on Zadie Smith? Does the fact that I find her books turgid and dull make me an uncultured buffoon?

1. Neither. I'd choose gin, as there are thousands of tears in every bottle. Although after reading Peter Temple's description of black coffee with a big slug of rum in it in The Broken Shore I'm rather tempted to take it up as my new tipple of choice.

2. Re: Zadie Smith. I loved White Teeth and hated The Autograph Hunter, so I guess that makes me a cultured buffoon. I don't know, surely the opinions of various snooty book lovers doesn't count if you're left cold at the end of it all - different books resonate with you for a reason. You're probably a massive Patrick White fan and I'd rather shave a swastika into my head than read another one of his novels, so just go with the 'each to their own' theory and rest easy knowing your taste is yours alone.

Andy Pants said...

OMG Ms Fits, thank goodness you have deleted those horrible posts! I don't know how you put up with such nastiness. Surely there is SOMETHING you can do to get rid of these terrible trolls?! I know you take down their posts and try to ban them, but the second your back is turned, the trolls are back nastier,fouler and filthier than ever. They things they were sayig about you! OMG!! It is becoming very distressing for the rest of us who come here to appreciate your dry wit and snappy comments. Please, PLEASE try and ban them.

Why thank you Andy, I most certainly....NOW WAIT JUST A SECOND HERE.

Andy Pants said...

That isn't me, I'm literate.

I suspected as much. Phew! Wouldn't I have looked quite the fool by responding to such a cheap shot? DODGED A BULLET WITH THAT ONE ROLFKMAO!!!!!

p.s. You should be pleased that someone cares about you enough to be having a crack, AP. I'll certainly shed a tear the day folk stop dropping by RYWHM to inform me that I have a prolapsed uterus or whatever charmed medical affliction they feel the need to bestow upon me on that particular afternoon.

Thalesian said...

Good evening Fits,

It's good to hear that you enjoyed your sojourn in Byron. I was crook last week and heard your discussion of same on 774...(Christ, I'm getting old...)

My question is... If you wanted to organise a dinner in Byron Bay for, oh, about 20 people for, oh say, maybe a wedding celebration, where would you go? Did you visit any decent restaurants in Byron whilst you were there?

We've all missed you... (Well, except maybe for mikeed and those other anon trolls)

Hugs,
Thalesian

Oh, I ate in several excellent Byronic restaurants which I would be happy to recommend, though for your purposes I'd go for the Balcony as they serve superior cocktails and you can stretch out on some comfortable highbrow couches and hock loogies on teenagers in boardshorts below. And I'm not the only one who thinks so, neither...

karen said...

Hello Fitsy,

I'm having a hard time resisting the urge to leave answers for other commenters here, like say, telling Thalesian that although the bulk of my recent culinary experiences in Byron involved eating food that came from vans, I did pass a wonderful evening at the Balcony Bar and heartily recommend it. Does this mean I have inappropriate smart-arse-know-it-all-me-me-pay-attention-to-meeeee! issues or is it undeniable evidence that I am 12 sorts of caring and lovely and am making the world a better place, one butt-in at a time?

I'd go for the latter, particularly as for the most part the mob gathering to witness the inanity at RYWHM are a giving people who hand out beans of information like so many god-botherers flinging pamphlets with dead babies on them outside an abortion clinic. Just you keep butting in where you see fit, young lady.

Anonymous said...

Do you ever consider changing your 'look'? The Sunday Age lifestyle magazine recently CONDEMNED those trying for the 'little madam'/'cute' look, who end up with the 'mutton dressed as lamb' look instead. If the Sunday Age said it, it must be true. Like you, I fucken luv the Age. But reading the article, you did come to mind...
Your thoughts?

Well gee, I guess if the Sunday Age doesn't much care for my sartorial choices I won't have much of a hope as the face of next year's Melbourne Fashion Week. THE HORROR.

Much as it may surprise you I'm not actually going for any deliberate 'look' other than one that makes me feel very nice when I wear it, and if the best you can do when reading articles on ladies who rather enjoy small frocks is to send waves of pity in my direction then I say good day to you fuckface as I find my clothes to be rather strange and marvellous.

Che said...

'Never cross the picket line.'

What if you don't believe in what people are picketing? What if it was Young Liberals on strike for something, like more balanced lecturers?

Wouldn't a better life commandment be, 'to thine own self be true'? Just wondering what you thought.

Also: I agree with the above query/comment. Those pigtails...

1. I probably still wouldn't cross. They've a right to picket just as much as anyone else. I don't know, it's a built-in left wingery thing that I can't escape given my pinko family background.

2. I don't know if it's necessarily a better one, Che. It's a good one, though. Why can they not co-exist in Life's Little Rule Book?

3. If my hairstyle bothers you that much I suggest you take up an instant hobby. I hear the game of Mousetrap is endlessly engaging for those with a little too much time on their hands for ruminating over the pigtails of shitkicker bloggers.

I mean, for fuck's.

Also - the debate is weighed in on here:

karen said...

In line with my compulsion, I also have to throw in on the style comments and say that my tv shows you each month to be a fresh faced wee scrap of a thing with a complexion that inspires both jealous rage/small measures of lust. But it has never shown you wearing a fluorescent oversized "IN CASE OF EMERGENCY: BREAK DANCE" t-shirt or any other zany thing the kids today are wearing. Obviously an age limit has been put on nice dresses - can you please advise me what this cut off point is so I know when to burn my frocks/invest in a neck to knee bathing costume? Oh also, speaking of pigtails (which I wasn't but anyway), did anything ever come of the hair modelling?

Cheers!

Actually, I wear one of those t-shirts in my spare time as I a professional and private dickwad.

To answer your questions, a) keep the more ridiculous frocks til past 80 as it will offend the grandchildren in a fashion which is nothing short of delightful and b) No. I've no time for hair modelling as a career and besides which I'm scared they'd get creative and make me look like Pepe Le Pew.

Matthew said...

The pigtails are gorgeous :-)

DOES ANYONE NOT HAVE AN OPINION ABOUT MY HAIR.

Lisa said...

Hi Ms Fits, love you very much but have no question and no advice so a pretty poor Friday q and a comment I'm afraid. Just wanted to add my little voice of support to the OCD sufferers who commented last week - I too have the horrid page forward page back affliction and it has resulted in long periods of my life not reading anything much. I've lived with this OCD curse since I was 13 (yes, an early developer) and have learnt that a good day with not too many intrusions is to be celebrated. Mmmm. And Ms Fits your dog patting thingy is prolly what they call 'magic thinking' which is common in kids (don't step on the cracks in the pavement sort of thing), not that I am an educated person in these things other than as how they effect meself. Good luck to both of the sufferers who commented, and bags of luck to yourself gorgeous one!

Thanks Lisa, and I'm sorry you've been addled since a tender age. I must say I rather like the romantic connotations of 'magic thinking'. Can I use it as an excuse when I'm being a pain in the arse?

Gen: Where the hell is my silver jumper? You've had it for months.

Me: I've been too busy magic thinking to look for it!!!!

Gen: .....

Ben said...

I feel quite chipper right now, because I got paid the other night.
For jokes.

Hi Lisa, hope you're doing well.

I feel I must point out you didn't answer all my questions. That's OK though, they weren't very interesting.

So what will you be up to in Berlin? Just general shenanigans of a Teutonic nature? I've never been there. I went to Zurich once, that was nice.

When are you leaving? How long are you going for? Will you bring me back a souvenir?

Who's the greatest guitarist of all time?

I apologise, Ben. I've been dreadfully busy buying electric blue high waisted shorts at Savers. I do hope you understand.

In answer to your queries:

1. I'm not sure yet. I may only be able to visit for a couple of days, so whatever it is I don't doubt it will be suitably chaotic and touristy.

2. I leave on August 28th.

3. I am going for a little over three weeks, but may have to return at the end of September.

4. I don't see why not. What sort of thing were you after?

5. Tim Heath from The Basics. Or, as an alternative, Nathan Cavaleri.

Anonymous said...

" I'm heading to the UK with occasional jaunts to Paris, Berlin and Spain"
dear Ms Fits I too have no question alas except this... when oh when do you come to paris...? I am living here in paree an expat devotee reading your cute sexy little bon mots which makes me oh-so-happy and merci beaucoup for your delightful blogging... this be a rambling note: when in paris you must come to our local for a down + dirty parisian experience in Le Marais at Cafe La Perla and then should you want the arrogant arrogance of a martini shaken with a gallic shrug we insist on taking you out for an evening close to the bar at hotel costes. toot sweet.

That sounds utterly delightful, Anon. At this stage it looks like I'll be in Paris around the 7th of September and would like nothing more than to have a 'down + dirty' Parisian experience so long as it doesn't involve some kind of drugging/kidney extraction as my mother would never forgive me for being such a trusting dunce.

***************

If anyone has missed out I offer humblings and mumblings and can assure you I will be potentially more on top of 'it' next time we meet.

Leave your questions for next week in the comments below and please, if you can, play Misty for me.

89 days til the next election.

Dance Magic Dance.

2007-08-15T15:01:00.000+10:00

I have been spending some quality time in Brunswick of late and recently noticed three pieces of graffiti I was rather hoping you or someone dear to you might be able to explain to me.

Here is the first one. It is written on a traffic sign in black texta.

'JENNIFER CONNOLLY IS A WHORE'

The word WHORE is written in larger letters than the rest of the sentence, as though the person making the statement has grown suddenly and startlingly enraged by the thought of Jennifer Connolly and wants the world to know that not only is she a whore but a really, really massive one at that so BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH or whatever it is that runs through the mind of insane people when they're on a crack bender.

The second piece of graffiti is a little further down the road and written on a piece of concrete:

'JENNIFER CONNOLLY IS A MOVIE STAR WHORE'

You can see a recurring theme here, can you not? Whether Jennifer Connolly is indeed possessing of whoreish qualities is to me beside the point. Why the devil has her name been besmirched so randomly around Sydney road? What on earth has she done to deserve such allegations? Why not Jennifer Aniston, or Jennifer Beals? Was it her work with David Bowie in Labyrinth?

Mystifying.

Here is the third, from yet another side street:

'JENNIFER CONNOLLY - CELEBRITY WHORE OF MORELAND'

This one is my favourite. Not Brunswick, not Fitzroy. The entire shire of Moreland. THAT WANTON ACTRESS IS SERVICING A VARIETY OF NEIGHBOURHOODS.

These pieces of graffiti have provoked long and involved discussions bewteen me and mine. Does Jennifer Connolly have a jilted and brooding ex-lover residing in the back streets of Brunswick? How does one attain the title 'Celebrity Whore Of Moreland' given today's competitive market? Are there more of these hidden gems around the traps and if so should I start conducting some kind of walking tour?

Answers below please.

91 days til the next election.

Teh curse of teh interwebs.

2007-08-14T10:49:00.000+10:00

Cavallero, Smith st.

Me: (to famous local HC) 'Morning Kent.

Kent: Good morning, blogger.

Beat.

Me: Excuse me?

Kent: I said, good morning blogger.

Me: How odd.

Long, awkward pause.

Me: (realising with sudden jolt) Oh. I take it you've found all the ladies gushing over you on my blog.

Kent: Yes. Someone told me about it so I went and had a look.

Another awkward pause.

Kent: Do you really want me to be wearing hotpants while I make coffees?

Me: Do please excuse me while I nip outside to shoot myself, etc.

*********************

Let that be a lesson to you, ladies of Collinghood. There are no secrets on this interconnected wire network.

Also: The first person to go to Cavallero and mention this post gets a free flat white.

92 days til the next election.

Friday q and a #80.

2007-08-10T11:17:00.000+10:00

Look! Friday q and a is about as old as Margaret Fulton! Joy among joys.

It's been three weeks since we last met like this (I do apologise, but I've been out having a life and I certainly hope you don't begrudge me my happiness), and things have been rocketing along like Ben Johnson in a crack triathalon. Grand plans for Berlin in September, above-par dining experiences, and just the right amount of swashbuckling with a spectacular tousle-haired ginger rascal. All cause for high spirits, would you not agree? That and a fair dose of Friday questions, of course...

Anonymous said...
Maleny! not Melany- oh but that's just me being pedantic.

You're quite right, Anon. I have edited accordingly. That will teach me for blogging under the influence of sedatives.

And we seem to have triggered some misty-eyed nostalgia...

Ben said...
My grandparents used to live in Maleny. In a house in the forest. We would visit there, and they had a big top-loading fridge with things in it we didn't have at home. My grandpa was a Scrabble fan and he kept the tiles in a lovely cloth bag, something the likes of which I had never before conceived of. It would rain and the mud was bright red. It had a smell I've never smelt anywhere else, it's a smell that lives in my bones. Rainy Maleny.

Thanks for bringing back the days when I was small. I'll think of some questions later, but thanks for that.

You're welcome, Ben. RYWHM - stirring the memory pot with overly flowery sentimentality since 2004.

Miss T said...
Hey Ms Fits!

You’ve been tagged, by ME for “seven strange things about me!” And I want the sevenest, strangest thingiest things about you eva!! It goes like this, I got tagged by Emma Honey another Melbourne bloggin’ gal and then I had to write MY seven strange things and then I thought I’d tag you! Tadah! You’re it! Look forward to reading it! :)

I can't say I normally play the tag game, but since you've so cunningly disguised it as a Friday question YOU FIENDISH GENIUS I am forced to do your bidding and answer.

The sevenest, strangest*, thingiest things about me are:

1. I sleep with my hands clenched in fists.

2. I have an octagonal bed.

3. When I am buying grapes at the supermarket and one falls on the floor I can spend up to ten minutes worrying about whether it was making a bid for freedom or simply suffering a freak accidental separation from its grapely parents.

4. I am obsessed with shelves.

5. I have a rain machine.

6. I have been married three times to the same man.

7. I am one half of an 80's power duo called Blue and Misty.

*I'm not entirely certain how strange these character traits are, but there's certainly seven of them. And they are most definitely 'things'. Two out of three can't be all bad.

Anonymous said...
Hi Fits.

"Gaining some semblance of clarity after time off in the mental wilderness is something to be hugely thrilled by. Tell the world. SAY IT LOUD."

You want people LOUDLY proclaiming how straight and chemically unfettered they are? In public, I assume? What the fuck kind of advice is that? And "mental wilderness"? Hello. Me and mine are fucking lucid, girlfriend, and we pursue "edges smoothed" to "toasted, nicely toasted" at every available opportunity. Lets hope I don't run into one of these LOUD born again pre teens you're sending out into the world for I may have to kill it!

Mikeed is nothing more than a fuckwit. Ban him. Why wring hands or seek consensus on it? This is a blog. Your blog. There is no right to free speech on other people's blogs. An aside. I wonder if Mikeed realises how non anonymous the Internet is and how the time it would take to trace him, attend at his abode and have his DSL cable wrapped around his neck would be measured in minutes rather than hours?

First question. Have you seen merkley???'s work on flikr? I suspect you'd really like it. One of my faves is "Lulu - Patron Saint of AssKickery" but "Beth - Sitting Sorta Shoeless in Front of a Sealed Up Fireplace Wearing a Crappy Green Sombrero and Making Margaritas in an Unplugged Blender Underneath Five Mushroom Head Dealies" is also a goody. So second question is (assuming you have a chance to look at some of the shots), would you just adore posing for this guy/gal?

http://www.flickr.com/photos/merkley/sets/72057594114270629/

You may need this guest pass:

http://www.flickr.com/gp/72738986@N00/PU3469

That's it, I think. Thanks for the work you put into this Blog. You're a top sort with the rare trifecta of superlative aesthetic, brain and (sense of) humour. Oh, and great tits! Oh, and yeah, in my imagination you smell really good too. That wasn't creepy was it?

P.S. Rove has never been, is not and will never be cool. And what's more I suspect he's Daryl Somers' evil doppelganger, incarnation or love child.. But I don't know which. Frankly just the thought of either of them makes me uneasy.

P.P.S. Is "miss t" who just posted before me some sort of strange bot generated blog spam? "You've been tagged, by ME". I guess she does manage to encompass all that is cringeworthy about blogging in one paragraph which is a noteworthy achievement.

Goodness, that's a fair wee handful of queries. Let's see how we go.

1. 'You want people LOUDLY proclaiming how straight and chemically unfettered they are? In public, I assume? What the fuck kind of advice is that?'

It was more a celebration of our friend's foray back into the world of 'on' after so many years in a doped-out haze, Anon. I'm not much a fan of those over-zealous fresh-faced teens shouting about their sobriety either. We all know you jive to Sum41 without the aid of alcoholic cider, no need to fucking go on about it.

2.'Have you seen merkley???'s work on flikr?'

I hadn't, no. But they are rather grand. I'd be most pleased to pose for Mr. or Mrs. Merkley as history has proven I'm not averse to stripping off and making an ass of myself in front of a camera.

3. 'In my imagination you smell really good too. That wasn't creepy was it?'

People have certainly implied creepier. I think it's rather a nice thing to assume about someone, actually.

4. 'Is "miss t" who just posted before me some sort of strange bot generated blog spam?'

I wouldn't say so, no. She just expresses herself differently to you or I. Imagine if we could just write off those with an opposing game plan as human spam? I'm quite keen on the idea of dismissing someone handing out how-to-vote Liberal cards at the next election with the words: 'I'm sorry, you're just spam to me. Consider yourself deleted.'

Anonymous said...
What would you do, now, if you somehow found out that by the time you are 60, you will vote conservative and agree with what right-wing commentators write in their columns?

What would I do? I don't know, enjoy the journey I guess. I am certainly growing more polite as I get older, though whether this will translate into a complete rejection of every political system I've subscribed to throughout my life and a full and thorough character overhaul is another matter altogether. Wouldn't the Right be pleased to have another victim see the light and join them on their evil path? They could parade me around at meetings like one of those ex-gays who solemnly inform Hillsong gatherings that all they needed was a mug of tea and a lie-down and they no longer craved anal with men.

Alice said...
OH NOES!

*tapes mouth up and runs away*

bwahahahaha! Hope you're having a wonderful time :)

word verific - dlmefmc - couldn't possibly be more appropriate

I had and am continuing to have a wonderful time, Alice. Thank you. And for god's sake, COME BACK.

Andy Pants said...
In answer to your question, I'm not aware of any legal boundaries prohibiting a teenager from posessing an unhealthy obsession for a certain strange, highly amusing somebody who happens to be almost thirteen years older than himself.

And besides 'love knows no bounds' or something like that.

Well, I suppose I should ask the most important question I find myself pondering.

What specific type of woo-ing would it take for you to let me throw you onto my shoulder, carry you off and rock your socks off?

Do you like Doctor Who? I hope you understand that if you say no I will be horribly crushed but also that I could learn to love a non-whovian if necessary.

And finally, whats your idea of a great time?

Hello, you fine young fellow. Let's do some mathematics here...thirteen years...which would make you...

....legally allowed to be engaging in flirtatious banter on this blog. Right we are, then.

a) I must admit I'm a fan of a good showy woo, though I have been somewhat poleaxed of late by some rather breathtakingly subtle quiet achieving. Obviously an above-par mixtape works at gaining the attention of an intended love, and I'm also a complete mess when someone cooks for me. Whether these things alone are enough to warrant a caveman-like shoulder toss is debatable. There's always the mystifying and inexplicable element of chemistry, you know.

b) I do like Doctor Who, yes. Although it used to scare the bejesus out of me as a scrap. I am currently sporting a long stripy scarf about town and more than one person has made reference to where I've parked the TARDIS, ho ho.

c) My idea of a great time involves feasting, carousing, exchanging sly witticisms with offensively humorous compadres, and hitting the road with nothing but a travel guide, my dog, and a handsome fellow in charge of the stereo. I'm a simple lass at heart - feed me and make me laugh and take me on the occasional drive and I'm undone. Sad, really.

i am not a cinematographer... said...
ah, sweet byron bay.
i am moving quite near there soon, to a cottage in mullumbimby. do go to mullumbimby...drink cocktails at the pointsiana cafe. it's a tiki bar.

and i do have a spare ticket to splendour up for grabs if you fancy it.

You lucky devil, i am not a cinematographer. Byron is still a pocket of loveliness and the beachly areas free from meaty-jawed backpackers playing hackeysack are wondrous. I've missed the Splendour train (Squalour in the Mud, my oh-so-witty local friend Patrick called it), but thank you very kindly for your offer. I went up bush instead and talked politics with some beautifully dry new friends. I hope you thought of us when you were pogoing to Gotye.

I'm not Craig said...
I love a good game of Guess WHich Obscure Early Nineties Band [A Blogger] was in.

Was Big Matt Stud in Masters Apprentices, and if so is he in prison for tax evasion right now?

Or was it Rosanna's Raiders?

Oh, EVERYONE loves a good game of that. It's very good of you to pass the baton onto someone else for us to torment, INC. Though you may be starting off on the wrong foot...

Ben said...
I'm Not Craig may well have some sort of Memento-type issues if he thinks Master's Apprentices was an early 90s band...they were a 70s-ish band weren't they? They sang about turning up the radio and complex offshore tax schemes.

They were indeed a 70's band, and a brilliant one at that. I saw Jim Keyes play at the Box Hill Golf Club a few years back and he fair silenced the room with his leather trews and howling vocals. The poor bugger's rather ill at the moment. Perhaps we should send him a card signed by everyone on the blog.

Now there's commitment to an idea.

Also:

I'm not Craig said...
Yes, Ben, I am having Memento type issues, which make me think that Masters...

*forgets what Ben wrote*

*hits random stranger in the head with wine bottle*

* goes and gets some seriously freaky tattoos*

* etc etc etc*

SO MUCH VIOLENCE.

Can we not all just learn to get along? Honestly.

BMS replies:

Big Matt Stud said...
Well, there seems to have been reasonably little interest in this round of the guess which band the blogger was in, but I will address the two entries so far:

Indecent Obsession - no, I think if I was to have been in a boy band it would probably be more along the lines of Boytown.

Your Wedding Night - I wish ! Any band that can produce lyrics like "that boy he can please us, like four kinds of cheeses" are bona fide geniuses. Full lyrics to the awesome 'Lachlan' can be enjoyed here.
(A pedantic point, I know, but do they actually count as an early Nineties band ?)

Shakespeare's Sister - no, and I would also like to add that I am not now, nor ever have been married to Dave Stewart.

I have to shamefacedly admit that I'm unfamiliar with the work of Midget or Tweezer.

INC

Was Big Matt Stud in Masters Apprentices, and if so is he in prison for tax evasion right now?

Or was it Rosanna's Raiders?

That would be a no and a no, Mr INC.

Does anybody think that they might have gotten Glen Wheatley on tax evasion simply because they were unable to prosecute him for inflicting John Farnham on us for twenty years ?

As for Rosanna's Raiders, after seeing this awesome album artwork, all I can say is that I'm sorry not to have been in them either.

I'm very sorry, too. Look at it! Utterly magnificent:

They are totally 'calling down fire' in this picture as advertised.

Truth in music, people. Truth in music.

Ben said...

Big Matt Stud, I think they got Glenn Wheatley on tax evasion as revenge for < REDACTED > Delta Goodrem. That's right - watch this space.

ARE YOU TRYING TO GET ME KILLED, YOUNG MAN?

'The Voice' has friends in high places, you know. He could have me knocked off in the time it takes to say 'we're not going to sit in silence'.

Some annoying pedant said...
Hello me lass,

Strange as it is to believe with its "you-couldn't-script-this" hilarity and monumentally deluded protagonist, I understand American Movie to be a documentary rather than a mockumentary. This chappie is the real deal. I think it won the documentary award at Sundance that year.

In other news. I see from a previous post you are a fan of Martin Amis. Ever read much of his pops, Kingsley? I'm reading The Green Man at the moment, which appears to be a bit of a spooky-as-heck ghostie tale... with the occasional three-way.

You're absolutely right about American Movie - my fault for misreading the question. If we're on the topic of mockumentaries it's difficult to go past Spinal Tap for utter genius, and most anything Fred Willard appears in possesses a certain comic je ne sais quois. In terms of Kingsley, I have a couple of his in my teetering stack to delve into the moment I get more than five minutes to sit down and read. Apparently he's a colourfully out-and-out misogynist in his scribblings, which should make the literary journey interesting for all involved.

Marmalade said...
Dear Fits,
This question won't save the whales, but I am curious.

I suffer from the Law of Inverse Hangovers. About every third or fourth time I drink, the hangover is proportionately more crippling than the other times.

So I'll feel a little queasy the morning after three sensible wines with dinner; bloody unpleasant after a six-pack of Coopers. If the LoIH night has ended with absinth at Pony, then zombie wasps will feed on my brain for most of the next day.

On non-LoIH days, bacon & eggs and an iced coffee will see me chipper as a kipper, even after the night ends with some Green Fairy and a Northcote ciggie. It's become so regular that before an upcoming big sesh I'll try to induce a LoIH just to escape those hours counting pubic hairs on the rim of the toilet.

Do you suffer from this? Does anyone? Have I discovered a chemical phenomenon? Do I get to go to Science Heaven and suck boiled eggs into bottles until the Big Crunch? I do like lab coats, you know.

'Zombie wasps'. Heh. I wish I knew who you were, Marmalade. You have an exceedingly pleasing turn of phrase.

Anyways, I do know exactly what you mean. I suffer from exactly the same thing, though whether this means it's a common occurrence or that we are simply scientific freaks of nature together and best off sent to some dark and mysterious sanitorium to play pinochle and braid each other's hair is a matter for Jesus to decide. One can have a reasonably tepid night in with a couple of highbrow glasses of Pinot and a piano-playing misfit for company and wake up the next morning crawling around on the floor searching for paper-shreds of dignity WHY IS THIS SO. Perhaps it's our bodies trying to tell us to give up the sauce and instead become teetotalling monks with naught but love in our hearts.

Our bodies - naturally - can get fucked.

The Girl Next Door said...
Why does Ms Fits smoke so much? She shoild be setting a good example. Gauloise are the most disgusting cigarettes, they are almost all tar. The French might have better heart health than anyone else, but their rates of cancer and lung disease are horrendous. See what she thinks when she's waiting for a lung transplant at 42.

Boy, this is an endlessly entertaining diversion isn't it?

Me: I've never smoked a cigarette.

Anonymous Commenter: You smoke too much, Smokey McSmokington!!!

Rest of world: Please be informing us when to LOL, etc.

But yes - I'll be certain to have your words of warning ringing in my ears when I'm waiting for a lung transplant at 42. That will certainly show me, won't it? Jesus christ.

Ben said...
Here is the tale: I have always been a fast reader, bulleting through lengthy volumes as a child, amazing (sort of) all with my prowess, etc etc. However, in adulthood I have developed a terrible affliction. I think it's some sort of OCD. I find it unbearably difficult to move forward while reading without re-reading a passage over and over. In particular, when I turn a page, I turn it back four or five times to check what I just read before I move on. So I've moved from being a fast reader to a terribly slow one because I effectively read everything several times, and it depresses me mightily. Has done for years.

Have you ever heard of such a thing? Any idea of what I can do to break this misery? Does anyone? Am I doomed?

Also, why are there no narrative or sketch shows on radio these days? Why can we not devise our own era's Goons?

Oh, and given your remark about thinking of what to write about, I think you should write something about the Christian channel on Foxtel.

See you later.

Dear me, Ben. You poor blighter. Thankfully some other sufferer has come forth to assist you as we are a giving community here:

Anonymous said...

Ben, if you're not joking about this, it does sound very much like OCD behaviour.

I have severe OCD and do exactly the same thing. The other thing driving me batty at present is having to restart each song on my Ipod after listening to a little bit first. Very annoying not just listening to an album straight through.

Anyhoo, been dealing with this for years and chances are you're not being serious anyway. If genuine there's some good advice here:

http://ada.mentalhealth.asn.au/ocd.html

That is incredibly helpful of you, Anon. I would no doubt have said something glib and irritating about sticking to Patrick White novels since over time they generally appear to be repeating the same passages anyway, but in the long run I'm wagering that your advice might be a smidgen more pertinent. The closest I get to OCD is having to pat that little metal dog statue in the city square every time I'm within a fifteen metre radius. If I don't do it things seem terribly off-kilter somehow.

Also:

Ben said...
Anonymous 9:51, no, I promise I'm completely genuine, and thanks very much indeed. I'm grateful to you for giving me a clue as to what's been going on the last five or six years of my life.

More medical miracles performed via Friday q and a. I'm starting to feel I should put some kind of 'please consult your physician' disclaimer down the bottom of the page lest you all go home and start trying to saw your legs off at the ankle to heal your blisters.

Waldorf said...
"...sometimes these sidestep flirtations are just that - pressure-valve releases from commitment and never intended to be seen through." I love that, nice one Fits. It reminds me of the glory days of this blog, back in the day I spent six years at the Age doing as little as fucking possible, ie reading this blog and writing novels.
I too will be at that beach, prepared for neck action but sans Robert Hughes. That said, you smoke heaps? WTF? That shit is old school. That said, I just got back from 2 weeks in NYC and most cool people still smoke over there - actually when you're there you have to check out a club called The Box. That shit has to be seen to be believed.
Okay, q: What do you like most about David Niven's The Moon's a Balloon? I love his army days in Malta!
BTW: Mikeed1313, you suck nuts.

Hold on just one second, young Waldorf. You were in Byron Bay for the writers festival and didn't come and say hello? Shame on you. I was in a most pleasant mood and ready for hijinks. I even climbed up a long hill and strolled around the lighthouse making rude comments about the dolphins. Next time you must make yourself known, please*.

With regard to your question - I've not yet finished The Moon's A Balloon as I've been distracted by work books, but so far I love his turn of phrase, his long and involved relationship with a prostitute who occasionally visited him at boarding school, and the man who loaned me his copy.

*NB I tend to get a little overexcited in these situations, so don't be alarmed if I start squeezing your arm and shouting.

Anonymous said...
I live with activists.

They don't have jobs, but vehemently attend rallies and marches to rail against the use of nuclear energy, global warming etc etc . I truly say 'Good on 'em' for geting out there to wrestle with the media beast and call attention to some very important ideas. However, along with polical dissent, these kids also seem to pride themselves in their humble approach to domesticity. They enjoy 'dumpstering' (ie. scavenging onion and ham pullaparts from Bakers Delight which have been turfed by the teenbaker) and living in humble dwellings, with meager, humble belongings and activity. BUT FITS!!! THE HUMBLE PIE IS BEGINNING TO ROT! I am very angry at them right now because they leave partially eaten hunks of food around, great warm, stinking piles of material rags (clothes I believe they are called), weeveled bags of brown nice, sticky old tahini, and on and on.Think Dicken's adaption on tele, think MY HOUSE.
I think it's plain and utter laziness. I ask them to clean up and they say I'm 'uptight' and 'too obsessed with material goods.' (I of course say nothing, but do occasionally yell into their rooms: 'CAN I BORROW THE PEPPER SPRAY FOR A SEC? WINSTON THE RAT IS TRYING TO EAT MY TOES AGAIN') Now I think that just a very warped sense of humiliy they have going on. I am simply sick of dirty activists.....for gawd sake, a clean set of dungarees/steakknives and a clean, shiny ponytail can only help their causes, right????

Wait just one cotton-picking minute here, Anon. ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT PERHAPS A HANDFUL OF POLITICALLY-MINDED SOCIAL AGITATORS MAY IN FACT BE RESIDING IN AN ENVIRONMENT WHICH IS LESS THAN HYGIENICALLY SOUND ?

Well. I. Never. Did.

Anyway, I can't say I'm all that surprised and nor should you be. They're festy drum-bangers and flag-wavers and 'reclaim the street'-ers; they're far too busy saving the world to bother putting the lid back on the cashew spread or remembering to pick lice-ridden towels up off the bathroom floor. You're really wasting your time leaving primly furious notes for these folk and expecting them to have some kind of DEAR GOD I MUST RUSH OUT AND BUY WINDEX revelation. They strive for a different kind of life-standard to you, and I suggest you either shrug your shoulders and brush the toast crumbs from the remote control, or find some new housemates with equally deft politics but perhaps a rudimentary grasp of broom-handling.

Hellglitter said...
I have been intrigued by Monsieur Mikeed1313’s constant references to the shrine of Ms Fits.

Which got me to thinking, should it one day pass that you are canonized by some delightful nut-job religion what would be the sage and holy advice that you would pass on to the world?

What would be the does and do nots according to Saint Fits?

I’m thinking there might be something a little Catholic about it because then you could still drink wine and have any little boy you like if you follow that religious route.

Also, what would be on your shrine – you know the holy objects - and what offerings should worshippers at the shrine of Saint Fits put before the statue of your fine self?

I imagine your graven image would be with arms akimbo – a drink in one hand, a sex toy in the other - with a very lascivious grin on your face staring intently at the pages of your own personal bible. At your feet a furry Bob Ellis – or can you think of a better image that would also look damn fine as a stain glass window?

That’ll do.

I look forward to other religious mysteries being revealed as the disciples of Ms Fits have another tipple of the holy spirit.

I'm to be canonised? Fucking sweet! Is it inappropriate to wear knee-high boots to the ceremony?

Anyway, if you're after the Gospel According To Me I can really only go with the rules I live by which are basically -

1. Never cross a picket line

2. Eat, drink and live well

3. Read and thou shalt not be a shit speller

4. Littering is for chumpeths

5. When in doubt - jive.

I'm sure there are more but they'll do for starters until I write the Sodom and Gomorrah chapter of my life works which is so rude you will just about die.

If anyone wants to drop random objects at a stained glass window with a picture of me and Bob Ellis on it (nicely done, by the way) I would suggest Kit Kats, wine, fake flowers, Castello cheese and a book of dirty limericks. That should do nicely.

i am not a cinematographer... said...
your email link doesn't work ms fits...and no, i'm a melbourne gal.
living back in wales at the moment.

Ah, apologies. It's reasonsyouwillhateme@gmail.com, though I really am the worst correspondent in the world. There are emails on there of men sending photographs of their penii to be 'rated' which are about twelve hundred years old. I really should get back to them with slow blogging days in mind.

elmo said...
thoughts?

Yeah, you're right. I guess I was looking at it the wrong way when I called Bono a fatuous, egotistical, mealy-mouthed tit. All it took for me to change my mind was a photograph with text that contradicted my previous assumption. WHO KNEW YOUR WINNING ME OVER COULD BE SUCH A SIMPLE PROCESS.

p.s.

x

Catbrain said...
Hello, gorgeous!

Haven't heard your dulcet tones here* for a while... any chance of squeezing a visit into your v.busy schedule sometime soon?

(* Dear Reader, please click the link - the podcasts are certainly worth a listen; plus, I'm moving and need some more furniture for the new place. Ever so grateful. xx)

If they ask me and I'm able, I'll always make the time for the nice Boxcutter boys. It's been a bit of a squeeze the past few months but should they ring on my doorbell once I'm back from overseas I'll be sure to throw myself upon them, cans of Gordon's in hand.

Simon said...
Look, if you're ever swaying completely pissed in front of a bathroom mirror, give this a try for a glimpse of mortality:
Peel back both of the lids (carefully!) on ONE eye. Now rotate your head while looking at the eye. Creepy, nuh? It's an EYEBALL in MUSCLE and SKULL, not your normal friendly window.

I was pitying my damaged copy of Primary Colors this morning and thinking about this- Would you be happy for Kevin to toss all principle to get there? Essentially doing all that whoward has done with non-core, etc to get in? I mean, when does a small target become a buttplug?

Why on earth would I want to do that, Simon? If I'm swaying drunk in front of a mirror I'd much rather mime Bryan Adams' 'Run to You' and do toothbrush calisthenics than check out the inside of my skull, anatomically interesting or otherwise. Gracious.

With regards to Our Kevin (07), I'm not sure I'd be entirely thrilled if he started espousing KKK rhetoric and informing all around him to 'burn the darkie camps down, jah'. I'll cop that he's a rather conservative bean and not quite the breathless social reformer that Sir Gough was when he swept into power, but I live in hope - naively, if you will - that he has some solid brains around him ready to bring him back to earth with a thud should he perhaps lose sight of the greater picture.

I'm not sure I can answer the question 'when does a small target become a buttplug'. It sounds like one of those 'when it's ajar' riddles that I am way too thick to ever figure out.

Tim said...
Going to see anything at MIFF? Remember if you go to see anything at ACMI to yell out "YAY GABI!" if that photo of Mrs Barton-Log filing comes up on screen (my record is six times before one movie last year.)

I saw Sicko and will be going to the closing night screening, though everything else I saw was under 50 minutes as I was a juror for the short film competition and sat through every single entry which was NO SMALL TASK.

I didn't see my Gabi onscreen during the festival, though I caught a glimpse of Mel Whimsy eating an ice-cream during some kind of promo reel and shouted HAY THERE'S MEL WHIMSY which made everyone around me start shooshing very loudly.

Ryan said...
Hello darling Fits, I'm sorry for not corresponding for so long. I've just got a new job in the company and they're actually making me work for a living. Who would have thought...

Plus I was away in Norway the week before last; I think I fell in love at least a thousand times in five days. Plus I may have accidently kissed a Norwegian girl (absolutely gorgeous, mind you) whilst there (sans girlf, who is in Kenya at the moment). Was that bad of me? I didn't have it in mind at all; we'd known eah other for a few days and it just happened. If I claim that I thought it was some local custom and I didn't want to be rude? Is it even worse that I would like to kiss her again? And that I suggested to my boss that he gives me all our Scandanavia clients, so that I have to go over to Oslo every now and again?

I'm slipping Fitsy...I'd been good for 6 months, even when there has been pressure not too (quite often).

She is absolutely gorgeous though...

Anyhow, how are you? Sorry for neglecting you! How's your holiday?

I have a favour to ask (I know, poor form after my recent lack of attention). The brother of my soon to be ex-flatmate (sily boy is moving in with his girlf) is a bass player (preferes and teaches jazz, but also plays with a few bands) will be in Melbourne with The Sunpilots next week playing a few gigs. Any chance of a plug on your gig board? They're at La Trobe Uni on Thurs 8th August, The Esplanade Hotel on the 10th (is that the Espy you keep talking about?) and the Empress Hotel on the 11th...

*Disclaimer: I've never heard them play, so they may be shit. He knows his stuff though. And he's single, ladies, so feel free to throw your knickers at him. Or yourself. But don't tell him I've been pimping him out. Or do, as he might buy me beers when I'm next back in Aus.

Sorry for the long post lovely; I may be back next Easter,and in Melbourne for a few days, so promise I will buy you coffees/beverages of an alcoholic nature and sweet treats should I bump into you to say thank you (I would send them in the mail but the envelopes aren't very watertight...)

Hello, Ryan. Let's tackle your pyramid of queries one brick at a time:

1.I may have accidently kissed a Norwegian girl (absolutely gorgeous, mind you) whilst there (sans girlf, who is in Kenya at the moment). Was that bad of me? I didn't have it in mind at all; we'd known eah other for a few days and it just happened.

It sounds like you may be trying to 'un-bad' it in your own conscience already, you scamp. Just because you 'didn't have it in mind' doesn't mean you didn't stick your tongue in the mouth of someone who wasn't your beloved. And what on earth does only knowing someone for a few days have to do with the price of eggs? If I accidentally forgot to not sleep with someone who I wasn't married to only to later confess to my partner with the cheery excuse 'Not to worry, he was a complete stranger I met in a bar' I'm not sure I'd be let off the hook with a foot massage and lengthy make-out session.

I don't think kissing another woman is the worst thing you could have done, but lack of forward planning and an as-yet-not-on-first-name-basis newfound friendship doesn't quite make it hunky dory, either.

2. If I claim that I thought it was some local custom and I didn't want to be rude?

Now you're just being silly.

*books ticket to Oslo*

3. Is it even worse that I would like to kiss her again? And that I suggested to my boss that he gives me all our Scandanavia clients, so that I have to go over to Oslo every now and again?

It's not terrible that you want to kiss her again, as long as you realise that by casually pulling strings to be in the same space as her you're essentially planting the seeds for a tumultuous love affair and will have to wear the consequences should your Kenyan-based paramour suddenly decide to pay you a visit during a dirty Norsca Fresh weekend. Do you really want to be going down that path, dear fellow? Just think it through.

4. Anyhow, how are you? Sorry for neglecting you! How's your holiday?

My many holidays have been most grand, thank you. I'm heading to the UK with occasional jaunts to Paris, Berlin and Spain in a few weeks so if you can suggest any above-par drinking establishments where they serve donuts please feel free to pass them on.

5. I've missed last night's show plug-wise, but the rest of you feel free to head down to the Espy tonight and the Empress tomorrow to see The Sunpilots. I'll be amongst the teens at Gotye tonight, hopefully holding hands with a rakish rogue during the quiet bits, so I'm afraid I'll miss out...everyone else should feel free to go and indulge in a bit of wholesome knicker-tossing, though.

Anonymous said...
What are your impressions of motor ace?

My impressions? I don't mind what I know of their music, though I'm unfamiliar with the bulk of their work. David Ong is a terribly handsome chap who lives just down the road from me and mutters shy 'hello's each time we pass each other so full points for rock n roll manners.

***************

Oh! I've finished early. There's still time for me to amuse the builders next door with my patented interpretive dance routine before heading up the road to Carlton and a weekend stretched out with whimsy and music and Neil Young.

Please do leave your queries for next Friday in the comments below, and I thank you - most sincerely - for your patience.

96 days til the next election.

Just nod and look like you get it.

2007-08-09T08:05:00.000+10:00

A selection of random notes made during an experimental/conceptual short film screening last night to later jog my memory about exactly wtf was going on:

1. 'MANY WHITE DOTS'

2. 'The tyre committed suicide??'

3. 'The paper has run away to the outback in a scrunchy caterpillar. Now someone has turned it into a pie.'

4. 'Nice stripy colours and European kids music. And an arse. Wham!'

5. 'A kid is waving some plastic bags in the air. Then he flies.'

6. 'BRIGHT THINGS EPILEPSY'

7. 'A room in circles. Nudie man. He's spinning'

8. 'Man still spinning. Now naked in forest'

9. 'Naked man spinning by lake'

10. 'NAKED MAN SPINS FOR EIGHT YEARS'

11. 'I am so out of my depth'

******************

97 days til the next election.

When emotional children take it too far.

2007-08-08T08:11:00.000+10:00

Tim: (to Bob Ellis) How do you put up with her? All the sarcasm and ironic banter and yap-yap-yap. It must drive you nuts.

Me: She's a long-suffering dog.

Tim: I don't doubt.

Me: Are you insinuating that I'm perhaps on the incessantly irritating side?

Tim: Only a little.

Me: You realise it's the verbal equivalent of tugging on your pigtails and dipping them in an inkwell? I'm only doing it to get your attention.

Tim: A friend of mine's kid just had her hair burnt off at school by some boy. I figure he must really be in love with her if we're going by the pigtail/inkwell theory.

Me: Burnt? What year are they in?

Tim: Eight.

Me: Jesus christ. With a cigarette lighter?

Tim: I guess so. Presumably it wasn't with a blowtorch.

Me: Was the guy expelled?

Tim: No, he wasn't even suspended. Because - get this - his defence was that he only did it because she had called him an emo. The school let him off.

Me: What? Why?

Tim: Because according to that school, 'emo' is a derogatory term. Along with faggot and nigger and slut and what-not.

Me: THESE LONG-FRINGED MUSIC FANS ARE MAKING A MOCKERY OF US ALL, etc.

***********************

98 days til the next election.

Any club that would have me as a member.

2007-08-02T11:03:00.000+10:00

'First of all let us explain our name - The Melbourne Wankers'

If this isn't the best opening gambit for a website since 'Facebook is a social utility that connects people with friends and others who work, study and live around them' then I'll eat my hat.

There are so many things to enjoy about the Melbourne Wankers as a community, though I'll try to keep it brief and showcase my favourite moments from their colourfully inventive homepage as I know you are a busy person with better things to do:

1. 'A wanker means a bit of an oddball, someone who believes in, and enjoys what he is doing even though he is not mainstream'

Famous wankers throughout history -

Oscar Wilde

Michael Jackson

Jesus.

2. 'We are a totally safe sex activity based on the world-wide jack-off group policy of No Lips Below the Hips.'

a) Yes. There seems to be such a thing as a 'world-wide jack-off group'.

b) THEY HAVE A COMPANY POLICY.

c) Who takes the minutes at the AGM? Does it not get cumbersome with all the cock flogging?

3. 'The group began in January 1990 organised by the late Ian Goller. Ian had enjoyed the many parties held by the San Francisco Jacks and so it was inevitable that he would try to get similar events established in Melbourne.'

Well, quite. I know I'm often inspired by other people's knees-up shindigs to race home and rustle a little soiree up myself. Kudos to you, Ian.

4. 'He wanted an environment where men could engage in safe, mastubatory sex in a group situation where all men were welcome, irrespective of age or physical stature....where men could communicate with one another through talking, and laughing, and through friendship.'

And - let's be frank here - frantically tugging at their penii.

Which is a charmed way to get to know someone better, if past experience is anything to go by. I met Gabi through a shared passion for bean flicking, you know.

5. '...we would advertise, set up the room for the evening (we cover the carpeted floor with ex-army tarpaulin covered with masses of old sheets) and clean up afterwards.'

This falls into the category of 'too much information' for me, though perhaps I'm just being squeamish. An ex-army tarpaulin? Gracious. Private Benjamin would be horrified.

6. 'No Arse play. No Force. Don't Be Shy.'

Of course, Nike went with 'Just Do It' in the long run, but the creative brainstorm process was still worth exploring.

7. 'We also use oil as our lubricant (grape seed oil), and our parties are based on its liberal use. Squeeze packs that are usually sauce containers at barbeques are what we use to conveniently dispense the oil.'

I am an oily man with an erection perching on a pile of sheets surrounded by masses of fellow oily bohunks standing groinally to attention. Is the last thing I want to be thinking about not throwing a few snags on the mixed grill and slathering them with Big Red?

8. 'Ah! The joys of group activities of dozens of oiled-up guys doing what comes naturally.'

Help me out here, brothers of RYWHM. Is falling into a writhing heap and cranking the shank really 'what comes naturally' when men gather together to exchange witticisms and ideas? What happened to booting the pigskin around and touching each other on the bottom?

You're a mystifyingly sweet lot, you really are.

104 days til the next election.

Absolute proof.

2007-08-01T11:32:00.000+10:00

Two conversations:

1. q. 'The police are onto me. What am I going to do?'

a. 'Nothing has been found out about you.'

q. 'I need to come up with some story. Something to put them off the scent.'

a. 'Tell them that you have to (leave) as you have a daughter here. Do not tell them anything else.'

q. 'What exactly has Aunty said to the police? Do they know about me and Kafeel and our plans? What do they think it is that we're doing?'

a. 'Aunty told him that brother Kafeel used it (the SIM card). He is in some sort of 'project' over there.'

2. q. 'Help me - they are making up lies. I'm in a complete panic. What am I supposed to do?'

a. 'Nothing has been found out about you.'

q. 'What if they think I'm leaving the country for suspicious reasons? What should I say to convince them of the truth?'

a. 'Tell them that you have to (leave) as you have a daughter here. Do not tell them anything else.'

q. 'All I did was loan Kafeel my SIM card. What is he doing with it? What's going on?'

a. 'Aunty told him that brother Kafeel used it (the SIM card). He is in some sort of project over there.'

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the first ever terrorist to call and check in with British police four times after being suspected of evildoings.

This is growing farcical, it really is.

105 days til the next election.

Get orf my altar!

2007-07-31T10:48:00.000+10:00

Things a man of the cloth might say when provoked by a mob of unruly teens:

a) 'Oh, I say. Do give it a rest'

b) 'I wish for you to depart this house of god immediately. And please be taking those modern-looking modes of wheel transport with you'

c) 'Your taunting fills me with unbridled rage, though I draw strength and comfort from my solid relationship with Mr. Jesus'

d) 'Unsubscribe'.

Things Monsignor Geoff Baron actually said when provoked by a mob of unruly teens:

a) 'Get off the property you fucking cunts'

b) 'Get back to where you come from you fool. You don't belong in Australia'

c) 'Little foreigner there, look at the sleepy eyes, black hair, sleepy eyes'

Things Monsignor Geoff Baron has said since aforementioned incident which pretty much makes being a racist man of the church okay:

a) 'They were laughing and carrying on, which made me even worse'

b) 'I have the impression that that particular gang of skateboarders, they take a particular delight and joy in reducing people to grovelling measures as I was, that's their goal, that's their aim, so I don't think I owe them an apology as such, I apologise to all who were scandalised by my behaviour'

c) 'All they were doing was provoking me'

d)'It might be linked up in some way that so many priests are considered to be pedophiles and here I was being called one'*

****************************

There. I don't know what all the fuss is about, do you?

106 days til the next election.

*this one is my favourite. Next time someone suggests I may be a child molester I'm going to fire back a few outrageously racist zingers. IF IT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR THE GOD-BOTHERERS IT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR HEATHENS LIKE ME.

Y'all come back now!

2007-07-30T13:22:00.000+10:00

What Kevin Andrews would have said if Mohammed Haneef had decided to stay in Australia despite his appalling treatment at the hands of the police and government:

'If anything, that actually heightens rather than lessens my suspicion."

What Kevin Andrews said in light of Mohammed Haneef getting the fuck out of the country that had completely done him over in order to go and see his wife and new baby daughter:

'If anything, that actually heightens rather than lessens my suspicion."

Heh. You fucked up royally, Lego Man.

107 days til the next election.

p.s.

BOO!

If I had a daughter she would definitely be this highly strung.

2007-07-29T09:01:00.000+10:00

In lieu of a Friday q and a post* I present this magnificent video sent to me by my friend Sid, who said 'This is how I reacted the day Simon Crean was ousted.'

108 days til the next election.

*I do apologise about this, but I've been having such a time of it in Byron I haven't much felt like sitting at the laptop. Please don't begrudge me my happiness.

Also: Piers Ackerman thinks what I do is 'funny' and 'supports' me. This is almost reason enough to throw in the towel completely.

When life experience turns bad.

2007-07-26T15:41:00.000+10:00

Conversation you utterly don't wish to have when standing next to someone very handsome who is quietly taking in every word:

Girl: Excuse me for a second, sorry to interrupt...

Me: Sure, no problem.

Girl: I was just wondering....did you audition for Big Brother a few years ago?

Me: ....

Girl: You did! I was in your group! Oh god, that's so funny.

Me: Yeah, I kind of...made friends of mine go along as a joke and they forced me to audition too.

Girl: And we had to jump around and act like pigs. So humiliating. Pigs, ahahaha!

Me: (stealing glimpse at devilishly attractive bystander) Er - yes. I wasn't seriously wanting to make it, though. I mean...you know. It's Big Brother.

Girl: I got knocked out after the second round. Did you get far?

Me: About eight rounds.

Girl: Eight rounds!

Me: Then I pulled out.

Girl: Oh my god! You were practically a housemate!

Me: Not really.

Girl: Eight rounds, that's amazing. They must have made you done some totally embarrassing shit. How awful!

Me: (seeking somewhere to hide) Yeah, well - it's all life experience I guess.

Girl: Totally!

Beat.

Girl: Hey, and weren't you on the Henderson Kids?

Me: Waiter, more wine please.

******************

It's a wonder I ever get kissed, really.

111 days til the next election.

Sweetness.

2007-07-25T13:04:00.000+10:00

I can't be bothered with this malarkey today. The sun is shining, I am freshly washed and laundered, and during a robust discussion about 'big things' on 774 today was told a listener had sms'd in the charmed phrase 'I've got a big thing I can show her if she likes.'

Also:

WHAT'S NOT TO BE CHEERFUL ABOUT, PEOPLE.

112 days til the next election.

Facebook delivers.

2007-07-24T09:10:00.000+10:00

Not a word of lie.

Or, as beloved Jessfamer so beautifully puts it:

'Finally, the poke function serves an actual purpose - bringing sworn foes together.

CUM ON IZRAEL U SHULD POKEZ PALENSTINE LOL.'

113 days til the next election.

Friday q and a #79.

2007-07-20T09:19:00.000+10:00

A q and a in fits (npi) and starts this week, as I have been strictly instructed by Gen not to 'waste too much time at the beck and call of those faceless weirdos'. Accordingly I've agreed to split the days up into three and spend good portions of time away from the computer watching whales mate (note: she is forcing me to do this) and taking long and involved strolls along windswept beaches in the manner of Charlene's 'I've Never Been To Me'. Time will pass pleasingly.

In the interim, from a mountaintop in Maleny I humbly bring to you this week's Friday questions.

Djali said...
My thoughts?

Hooray for changing your mind willy nilly! I think it's absolutely imperative that people always feel free to do this. Who makes the rules around here anyway? Those that might disagree? Tell 'em to go jump in a hole. You're good at that.

X

Ah, yes. A kindly thankyou to all who have posted their thoughts on our resident friend - I hope you'll forgive me if I refrain from including them all in this week's q and a as I'd prefer to get on with doing the online Agony Aunting than continue the somewhat bizarre debate any further. Trust that I am well and quite happy with the current status and am whiling away the days reading David Niven autobiographies and poking strangers on Facebook, which is a far more wholesome hobby than wallowing in a spiteful mire if you don't mind my saying so.

elaine said...
so when *are* the next blogger drinks? I suppose I really oughtn't ask since I got all depresso-melodramatic and deleted my blog and am not really bloggining anymore. Technically I do still have a blog thought, so I'll damn well gatecrash, fuckos whether you like it or not.

Gracious, such language for one so demure.

It's been so long since the last official blogger drinks (from memory they had some special, nerd-pun name which absolutely escapes me now) that half the folk who attended have since thrown in the self-absorbed towel* and turned their attention towards healthier hobbies. I'm more than happy to dust the idea off again if others are interested, though they are hell to organise and the political lines are pretty well drawn from the get-go meaning that the left-wing bloggers sit on one side of the room and glower at the conservatives who linger nervously at the bar ordering caipiroskas. It's like West Side Story, but with less styling dance moves.

*one can only imagine the gummy texture of such an item.

Mirri said...
Hey there!

I was wondering if you'd mind sharing a vegetarian recipe?
I know there have been some mentioned before, but the prospect of digging them up from the archives, well. Laziness got the best of me, surprisingly.

It's just that all the food I ever do, always has some meat-aspect to it, and I have noticed that vegetarians eat happily on as well.
So what can I make without the dish seeming like it's missing a part of something that used to breathe?

Thank you!

I used to go to town making a very basic pumpkin pasta which I stole from a Gabriel Gate 'cooking for single men*' book. From memory it involves cooking up some pumpkin, roasting a handful of pine nuts, chopping up some parsley, combining all three and stirring it through bow-tie pasta. I liked it very much because a) I love pumpkin, and b) bow-tie pasta never fails to amuse me. It's the clown pasta to orecchiette's anatomy lesson. Also it fills up those wee anaemic vegetable folk with belly-warmth and carbohydrates which gives them energy to stay up all night kissing you.

*please note this is less 'recipes to ensnare the heart of a swinging bachelor' and more 'easy shit to throw in a bowl if you are culinarily disinclined'.

The Slapper Princess said...

My question is: If all I wanted to do was have a go at some mentally vacant 'person' and offer my thoughts towards your particular conundrum, would you let the fact that I don't have a question pass? Feel free to delete or ignore at will, sorry for the above verbosity, am merely just 'over it' and fear for my ocular muscles at all the eye rollings I've had to partake in whenever he pipes up.

I often let the fact that people drop by here just to share their thoughts without having a specific query pass as I am a kind and gentle ~~lover~~ blog overlord. Admire me.

The plot said...
Misfits,
I am having issues with sydney nightlife atm. Being a fulltime student (woe is me, and all that crap), most of my dreamtime is taken up with looking forward to of times to be had once study/internships etc are over. E.g. exotic travelling, meeting lions, etc. What to do whilst bored and frustrated, when most of sydney is being overrun by teenagers in fluro? Thanks

There's plenty of live music to seek out in Sydlee, The plot. Most upstanding folk I know linger at the Clare on a Friday night before retiring to Purple Sneakers (though I've been told this sadly no longer houses guest dj's from local bands, is this true?) to pick up young ladies of ill-repute. I very much like the down-home skankiness of the Judgement Bar as I have no taste and like to stay up late drinking with poorly-mannered bloggerati, though I appreciate if you are a fan of the finer things and would prefer to stay the fuck away from such a seedy den.

Any city nightlife can be enlivened by a hand-holding companion who sends your hormones into self-immolation mode, so I suggest cultivating a sturdy crush in your lust-garden and entertaining yourself with nocturnal picnics and adventures in car parks.

Can Sydney folk elaborate?

Mick Jagger said...
Why are we fighting?

People...people...brothers and sisters....etc.

I'm not fighting, anyways. I'm listening to dolphin sounds and painting my chakras. It'd take a lot to dampen my mood at the moment.

*performs interpretive dance*

Anonymous said...
My question:

Who looks after Bob Ellis when you go away?

My very handsome friend Gooshy is looking after both dog and apartment at the moment. It works out well for him as he has constant access nudie women on Skype and likes to stroll around the neighbourhood letting people admire both human and hound. If you see him be sure to give him a pat; he is a very well-behaved young man and deserves only nice things.

bam-ba-lam said...
Hi Ms Fits,

If I may be so bold as to contribute on the back of the advice you gave bianca – I tried to do it at her blog, but permissions wouldn’t allow - I had to put down my eldery kitty earlier this year and I'm well aware of the patience you have to have for the last year or so of their life.

It gets increasingly frustrating (accidents from both ends all over bedding and white carpets, and the litter tray was surrounded by newspaper, cos at that age I believe nearby is good enough) and your beloved gets needy and fussy (“I don’t like that food any more, though it’s one of the few things I’ve eaten for years now”), but you still have wonderful times in between the bouts of angst. Clippers do become necessary (in my case, for her claws – they didn’t retract any more and she got caught on things), as does carpet cleaner and a large supply of sponges/wipes, you get to know your local launderette rather well and if you go a month without visiting the vet, then that’s a bonus.

I often got pretty pissed off with her, and felt awfully guilty about thoughts of a happy future without her and the twice daily clean-ups – YOU’RE NOT ALONE THERE. But when the time comes for that last trip to the vet, you’ll know that it’s right. Anger and guilt wont even be a factor in the decision, it’ll be made from the heart and knowing that your cat’s had enough time here, thanks. It may sound silly, but my cat told me when she was ready to go – I’m sure your boy will too. In the mean time, enjoy the good and meditate/grit your teeth through the messy. Hope the shared understanding helps.

Oh, and my question: could you please tell me the name of that Dirty Three track that was selected as a rooting song on July 10’s BOTB please? Ta.

That's lovely and sage advice, re: pet troubles. I'm feeling most Katrina Warren but with less shiny hair.

Lawrence Mooney was the celebrity rooter on July 10th (and a most enjoyable show it was, too). His Dirty Three track was - I'm pretty sure - I Remember a Time When Once You Used to Love Me. The original Greek version off the Praise soundtrack is a force to be reckoned with also.

And you've reached out and touched somebody's hand (virtual):

bianca said...
Thank you, Bam-ba-lam, the shared understanding certainly does help. *lights candle for recently departed daughter of bam*

*hums We Are The World*

Andy Pants said...
Hey,

Purely hypothetical question....

If you were madly madly in love with a much older minor celebrity and televison screenwriter, whom you've never met. Would revealing that to them be considered stalkerish behaviour?

Also what should I do about it?

How much older are you talking, Andy? Are there legal boundaries in place to prevent such intergenerational hook-ups?

*consults lawyer*

When I was fifteen I was madly in love with Rob Sitch from the D-Generation, who was not only at least seventeen years older than me but also happily attached to Jane Kennedy. From memory I undertook the in no way stalkerish or weird task of writing him an anonymous love letter each week (I was a very highly strung teenager) and then submitting some sketches to The Late Show. He very kindly took me under his wing and gave me a script coaching session in the ABC make-up room post-taping one night, during which I stared dumbly at him and made an ass of myself as is often the way of fifteen-year-old seductresses in velvet pants. Obviously this technique didn't work for me (*shakes fist at sky*) but I wouldn't discount it for winning the heart of the object of your affections. You never know, she might be in the market for a fresh-faced paramour and the two of you can stroll arm-in-arm down life's sweet esplanade stopping only to look at the hand-made craft stalls.

p.s. If you are under sixteen years of age I retract most everything from this answer thanking you kindly federal sex police of the interwebs.

Cordelia. said...

MY question:

RE the lack of interest in sex comment. I am not exaggerating when i say i think i have a really strikingly amazing relationship with my girlfriend. After three years, we cannot spend enough time together, and love to do so. She's my soul mate, my everything. Unfortunately, our sex drives do not match. I would like to have sex three/four/eight times a week, she would like it once. We talk about it, she feels insanely guilty, we both cry, it continues.

I want to spend forever with her. Is matching sex drives vital to achieve this?

A friend of mine once noted that it's very rare for two people to have Tetris-clicking sex drives and spend the rest of their lives bathing in an orgiastic self-congratulatory passionate embrace - 'Usually one person wants it more and hates themselves for being needy while the other wants it less and hates themselves for being a cold fish' was his take on matters of the bedroom, which I agree is somewhat of a grim view and not to be swallowed whole. Obviously once the initial routine of locking yourselves in the bedroom for days at a stretch has softened to make way for life obligations like washing and eating, sexualising encounters even out to less all-encompassing week-long romps and fall somewhat by the wayside. Considering the way you profess to feel about your love (bless you and your heart) I think yes, you'll be quite able to spend forever having a little less inserting and a little more masturbatoring and if boning two point five times a week rather than six point three means you get to linger every day with a human being who turns your kidneys upside down every time they look in your direction, then just you get yourself an extensive porno collection and start rubbing, kid.

I'm not Craig said...
Bigg Matt Stud said
And it's kind of ironic that one of the comments which inspired me to write this one was by Gigglewick, who appears to be INC's partner. Spooky.

Well, that must have come as quite a shock to Gigglewick's husband.

And to Gigglewick.

I'm mildly surprised too.

Mrs INC might have had a few words to say about it too, no?

Or Gigglewick herself...

gigglewick said...

I'm mildly surprised too.

Indeed I am surprised to learn that I am CRAZED INTERNET POLYGAMIST IN STYLE OF 'BIG LOVE'.

In fact an even stranger coincidence is that Mr Fix (actual husband) is strikingly similar in appearance to Allan Catlin, or was, circa 1993.

If perchance, my (actual) husband and I were invited to the impending 2007 Sharp Reunion Tour blogger party we could stand Mr Catlin and Mr Fix next to each other to make a definitive judgment once and for all. However I suspect neither of them would appreciate that very much.

Oh, and could you invite INC/Honeybear too - I've never met them either.

kthanxbye

Gigglewick

This Sharp Reunion Tour Blogger Cocktail Party Polygamy Mormon Funtimes thing is getting out of hand. And poor old BMS is feeling quite pink in the cheeks about all this...

Big Matt Stud said...

Well, colour me mortified. I saw this post and failed to notice that it was actually written by INC and not, in fact, by Gigglewick.

Apologies to the INC and Gigglewick families.

By the way, +1 for me on flicking mikeed, I'm sick to death of the fucker, even though I do just skip past anything he writes. I was previously in the ignore him and he'll go away camp, but he doesn't really show any signs of doing so.

Also, my word verification is mwcwmwdb - the embarassed mumble of a blog commenter who has just publicly made a dick of himself.

Please don't be embarrassed, young man. We're all friends here. Even the cockspanks get a social airing every now and then.

klyntone said...
Hello again wordsmith Fits

No, no I’m not particularly serious, sometimes I speak like that in an attempt to highlight th absurdity of common sayings.
Does bragging about being on “my” face have some meaning I am unaware of?

Sorry, I guess there is no intelligent way to say I’ve been wasted for half my life, once th novelty of th emerging clarity wears off I will probably refrain from mentioning it at all.

I do care and am incredibly thin skinned yet have helped shaped th nation by climbing trees that are marked to be culled keeping them safe until th more politically minded make th changes necessary to save th trees without needing a 24 hour guard.
Do you have a favourite tree, either an individual or a particular species?

Th glassy-eyed hardly ever forgetful robot is deprogramming but is still a bit, shall we say suspicious.

I see so much opposition towards John W Howard and there really are very few who don’t vote. Everyone I speak to says they don’t vote for him due to various lies and betrayals, there must of course be some kind of conspiracy, other wise how else can he continue to be re-elected.
Do you have any outlandish explanations of th exact nature of these conspiracies?

Good luck with th mikeed1313 drama, he has not posted anything I have enjoyed reading.

All th best,
K

Okay, let's sift our way through these...

a) Does bragging about being on “my” face have some meaning I am unaware of?

I wouldn't say so, and I think you have every right to be pleased with yourself. Gaining some semblance of clarity after time off in the mental wilderness is something to be hugely thrilled by. Tell the world. SAY IT LOUD.

b) Do you have a favourite tree, either an individual or a particular species?

My favourite tree used to be the gargantuan beast I used to hide notes in that resided in my parents' front yard, although it sadly lost its will to live some years ago and was removed in a sobering 'mighty oak we hardly knew ye' ceremony I'm yet to fully recover from. I don't think I have a favourite species of tree, though I'm quite partial to a willow as it hides myriad secret trysts.

c) Do you have any outlandish explanations of th exact nature of these conspiracies?

No outlandish explanations I'm afraid - only the sad and slightly sorry fact that those of us on the left passionate about politics can't get their heads around the thought that others may see JWH as a rather grand fellow and One To Be Admired. We are foolish and outraged beasts, the lot of us.

niknik said...
hey ms fits

sorry to bother you again but i need some advice. my birthday is coming up and i'd like to have a house party to celebrate, but please, i need some tips. what makes a great house party? i've had a few in my time, but i really want this one to be spectacular.

what shall i do about music? do i get a DJ? (suggestions) or leave my itunes on shuffle? or should i beg some muso friends to set themselves up in my loungeroom? that could be cool, not sure about how my neighbours would feel about this though..

hmm..yes. any tips would be greatly appreciated.

ta,
niknik.

Oh, you should most certainly get a dj. Get several - ask your high-quality tune-loving friends (the ones who make the best mix tapes; you know who they are) to do an hour-long set each. People get completely excited about this, and besides which there's a great sense of competition and rivalry to win your affections so your beloveds will go all out when planning their 'sets' (<--- this is a professional dj term, use it freely to impress romantic interests). Live music would be sweet, but yes - you'd never be able to leave the house again without Mr. Timbs from number 45 trying to come at you with an air rifle, so best just leave it to the disc jockeys for now.

Other ingredients to make a great house party-

1. Random tonguekissing in the hallway (note: best when simply wandering down corridor and grabbed by the shoulders for passionate tete a tete)

2. Champagne fountain (glasses will break)

3. Naked Twister (the ultimate ice-breaker)

4. Lamb on a spit (provides talking point, freaks out vegetarians and brings them closer together)

5. Random disposable cameras for people to use whilst bonding

6. At least one (1) idiot streaker.

Can I come? I love house parties.

jctrue said...
dear ms fits

wow for your spirituality seekings. goddess is dancing stickers and voilence to ones eye was not what i was expecting but meh! :)

your writings appear to be more entertaining of late - not so serious - and so much more novel.

what is your most favourite film in each category:

1. Action
2. Australian
3. Mockumentry
4. Romance
5. International

Thanks for being wonderful

jc
x

ps i think you are ambitious - just talented about denying it ....

Hello again, jc. My favourite films in the categories you have enquired about are:

1. War of the Worlds.

2. Don's Party.

3. American Movie.

4. Harold and Maude.

5. The Triplets of Belleville.

Big Matt Stud said...

You realise I'm now busting to know which band you were in, BMS? Go on, can we start a new game? I love that lame Mormon-let's-all-sit-together-and-clap-hands stuff.

Well, I thought that all of the good ones got used up in the last round, but if anybody wants to start it up again, knock yourselves out. I'm also more than happy just to tell you if no-one wants to play.

Right, I'll start. Was it Indecent Obsession? Your Wedding Night? Midget? Tweezer? Shakespeare's Sister?

********

Here endeth today's installation. I'll return tomorrow for round two. Can you believe that in the time it's taken you to read this I've travelled from Maleny to Rainbow Beach? I'm quite fucking mysterious and Monkey Magic like that.

*disappears in puff of smoke*

*************

SATURDAY Q AND A WEEKEND LIFTOUT EDITION

Rustique said...

With regard to the hills-hoist-dead-Iraqi-children-thing this site - which if it is not run by Getup is at least promoted by them - is a good 'un. I like "Who do you trust" by G. Raju and M. Pooley the best out of the ones I've viewed.

34 comments already, poor dear.

I rather like the Rudd Vs Howard/Mac Vs PC one myself. JWH has proven it himself: the internets are the way of the elective future. If he fails to produce a bitching Coalition Massive ('The Federal Government - We Don't Fuck Abow') before November I shall be sorely disappointed.

karen said...
Ms Fits,

Does this "and all of a sudden Byron Bay seems a giddy prospect" per-any-chance mean you'll be at Splendour?

While always keen for music in a field, I'm a little disgruntled with the line up. I had high hopes for Arcade Fire and other rumour mongers were toying with my feelings by banding about words like Bowie and Bjork.

If you are going, who are you most looking forward to seeing/stealing drinks from their rider?

xo

Sadly, no - I'll be in Byron for the boffin-collective writers festival which misses out on the rocking and rolling by about a week. If I had been lucky enough to wrangle a ticket from some upstanding member of the musical community I'd probably be most excited about seeing the Dirty Three given their performance at Meredith 2004 during a lightning storm is so firmly etched on my consciousness I am forever in their spiritual debt.

Be sure to find some fingers to squeeze when they're playing lest your heart be stretched to breaking point, miss.

Blogless said...
Fitz. And anyone else with Dear Ruth Leanings.

Agony Aunt Question for you.

My Beloved, Kind, Caring Boyfriend of five years is the man of my dreams I am sure. Or I was at least once Sure.

He and I have been shacked up together for much of this five years, in domestic happiness, just him and me, no kids.

The thing is, he doesn't like sex. He says he likes sex, and gives me the 'I'm just tired and busy' exception. I just want to get laid.

We're talking 6 months at a time here.

I have given up the Lingere, the sex toy offerings, all initiations, and talking about it.

What is my next step? Leave him and live the life of the odd spinster, or stay with him and wait for all urges to leave me and my vajayjay to just shrivel up and eventually seal?

Does this happen really? Do boys get like this? Is he gay? Love my best friend? Have father Issues?

HELP

Verification: dphsucr.

SUCR!!

'Vajayjay'? That's a new one.

Boy, folk sure have some bedrooming issues don't they? Poor all of us, with our mixed signals and nights off the flesh train and general needing to be fondled. WHEN WILL IT STOP.

Anyhow. Given the beauteous basis of your partnership I think your one-time loverman is due to step up to the negotiating table and nut this conundrum out with you once and for all. You've obviously attempted to woo and rouse him into action, but if he's still refusing to capitulate then it's time to make it clear how important this is to you. Is he willing to lose you simply due to an underactive penis-drive? If there are issues of the best-friend-loving/homosexualising kind then they're best out in the open and thrashed out in order for you both to feel sated and on the 'same page' etc. I wouldn't wish for you to walk without having tried everything, but it certainly sounds time for drastic conversational action. Best of luck to you both.

alf said...
I'm reading a good book called Measuring The World. Have you read it?

Thoughts.

Two.

Guidelines from Flickr:

'Don’t be creepy.
You know the guy. Don't be that guy.'

&

"Habet! Hoc habet!"

Vouchsafe with thine aplomb and grace it shall be done.

Yours in panache.

PS I am also fond of verve and pronounce you 51 per cent a maven.

1. I have not read it. Is it to be added to the teetering pile?

2. I don't pretend to understand in any way whatsoever, but I like very much.

3. Thanking you, kindly sir.

*curtseys*

Matthew said...
A Bob Ellis update, courtesy of "The Independent Weekly"

On the campaign trail
Writer, film maker and ALP historian Bob Ellis has made a documentary about the 2006 state election campaign that promises some fascinating insights into the machinations of the Rann Labor government, it was revealed today. The laconic Ellis, a close, but critical, friend of the Premier, followed Rann around on the hustings in the lead-up to Rann's landslide win. He told ABC radio today the film featured footage of Deputy Premier Kevin Foley using some colourful expletives and Rann singing the White Cliffs of Dover.

I know, I'm excited. Who else is coming to the MIFF screening? We could dress up as Sir Bob and arrive en masse in egg-encrusted suits.

Anonymous said...
Do you think Cavallero is the male version of Hooters?

Why, yes. Yes, I do.

I wish Kent wore orange hotpants more often, just quietly.

Ben said...
I actually think a television series about the search for the 7 Wonders of Melbourne would be very good, with potential for both loveliness and whimsy. I would like to host it. THIS WAS MY IDEA! I have been informed that to get ahead at the ABC I shall have to perform lewd acts upon a person called "Courtney Whatsherface", so I shall get right on that.

I have a vague idea I read somewhere that Shaun Micallef doesn't drink. I might be wrong. I could be thinking of Kenny Everett. He doesn't drink, because he is dead.

1. How important is sex, really?

2. Would I be happier if I believed in god?

3. Is the dumbing down of politics unavoidable? Is major success genuinely impossible for a politician who chooses not to appeal to baser instincts, who does not talk purely in sound grabs and is willing to build upon a foundation of logic and reason? Would the populace really be repelled by a leader who, for instance, was willing to say, "yes, action is needed on the problems in indigenous communities, and we shall take action, but to strip innocent people of the rights enjoyed by their fellow citizens based purely on their colour, or their location, is antithetical to the kind of society we aspire to, and we will not do it"? Or one who said, for example, "As understandably unnerved as we all are when terrorism rears its head, we will not make judgments that could destroy people's lives until the evidence is in and the rule of law has run its course, and as a government we will not attempt to find ways to circumvent the independent judiciary upon which our very system of government is founded"?

Or, gods forbid, a leader who simply said, "I will decide each and every issue of import that comes my way on the basis of calm and rational assessment of the facts and of all the relevant evidence, and will not allow appeals to emotion, prejudice or superstition affect my decisions, because they are just too important to be thus determined"?

Just tell me, my best beloved, are the people so far gone they could not warm to such a person?

4. I aroused controversy amongst my immediate family with my callous assertion that the world is now a better place, albeit only marginally, because Stan Zemanek is dead. Am I a horrible person?

Hello, old friend.

1. Reasonably so, I'd wager. There's a perfect Mirka Mora quote I tore out and stuck to my fridge which reads roughly: 'As long as you live, you must never lose your sexuality. And you must always love, even when things are terribly sad.'

Sex is connective, emotional and occasionally awe-inspiring. It's not the be-all of existence, but it's very important to revere and respect.

2. Not necessarily. It may pass the time, but the time would pass in any case if that wag Beckett is to be believed.

3. Yes, the people really are 'that' far gone - as long as they are fed bite-sized hygienic pieces of information in a language that doesn't stretch their intellect then they're happy to number boxes accordingly on the big day and go about their business unencumbered. I'm sorry to be the one to break it to you.

4. No. I'm not much of a fan of S. Zemanek in life or death either. Besides which, I'm slightly suspicious of subscribing to the belief that someone can bully their way through an existence lashing out at minority groups with a right-wing bluster which could almost be considered cartoonish if it wasn't so abhorrent only to then be revered as a stand-up fellow who was simply 'having the world on' with a jocular and fictional persona.

I possibly wouldn't go the way of Mike Carlton and speak ill of the dead on the day of the funeral but I ain't mourning the man's loss, put it that way.

Anonymous said...
When I was an idiotic fuckstruck 19 year old I foolishly got married to the guy I thought was the love of my life. Nine months later we had the most ridiculously hateful break-up. After our stupid divorce where we seriously battled it out over things like a Disposable Heroes of Hipoprisy cd - we pretty much did all we could to never see each other again.
It has been over 10 years since we have had any form of contact.

Last week I was crossing the street and this guy just caught my eye. It was the once-dreaded ex. But something strange happened, we recognised each other and just had this gorgeous hug. We swapped numbers and last Friday caught up for drinks. And it was brilliant. We had one of those electric evenings where I had to hold myself back - I think I have fallen in love with him again. We have not stopped texting, calling, emailing since. But there is a slight problem. I have been seeing my boyfriend for nearly a year and my ex is living with his long-term girlfriend.

Am I a stupid romantic fool or could he possibly be the love of my life?

Nothing has happened but I want it to - badly. Should I call it off with my boyfriend - he's a fantastic guy but he doesn't set my world on fire like the ex.

We're due to meet again this Friday. Should I go? Am I asking for trouble?

HELP!

Oh, dear god. WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING, ANON DIVORCEE?

Obviously a part of me wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake you and insist that you accompany me to a bar where we can drink whisky and dissect each and every moment of your painful split including the part where your ex held up an egg cup and shouted I THINK WE BOTH KNOW WHOSE THIS IS FUCKFACE though to be honest I'm not sure it would help given your current state of mind. You've clearly started to trip-tumble your way back into the tumultuous passionate world you once inhabited with Husband and have been mentally wresting yourself away from Mr. Fantastic at a rate of knots. I don't judge you for it - I am the worst at running into exes and feeling every one of those tiny dynamite sticks embedded in my pants re-igniting - but really, ten years off-course and back into each other's arms is an intense prospect.

Take it slowly, and don't turn the universe on its axis just yet - the two of you drank each other dry for a reason. By all means meet up again and see what the devil is driving you to distraction, but leaping in to the fire feet first is only going to result in an inferno. Tread carefully, and for god's sake UPDATE US.

Boo said...
Dear Ms Fits,

your article on the Scud's reality show made me lose control of my pelvic floor.

Is there any chance you could review the show 'Kick' screened on SBS? I think you could wring some humour out of it...

Don't know if you take requests, but it's worth a shot..!

Possibly not a grand idea, since I helped them out with some storylining on the second series. It was only four days work, but the idea of then turning around and sticking the boot in is perhaps a little on the foolish side, even for an impetuous idiot like me.

Keep the suggestions coming though; I am shit at finding things to write about each week.

Anonymous said...
I'm falling in love with a friend who has a girlfriend. He has told another friend "The only time i question my love for my girlfriend is when x (moi) is around", so I'm not delusional (completely). We've been flirting a bit of late, you know, nothing clearly definable as above and beyond fun flirtation but... I am falling for the dude. Should I politely bring "my feelings" (I did that annoying hand gesture to indicate what an annoying turn of phrase that is) up while drunk sometime or play my cards close to my chest and hope the girlfriend has an unfortunate altercation with the cheap glue on their wedding invitation envelopes? Painlessly, of course, as I wish her no harm (beyond the immediate sacrifice her current gentleman friend).

Yours sincerely,

Cold in Outer Melbourne.

Oy, that's tough.

I'd like to say that you should bow respectfully to the Lady and allow her a private and peaceful relationship free of man-stealing harpies like yourself, but the truth of the matter is I usually can't sleep with the burden of sodden feeling weighing me down and understand why you may need to spill your secrets. Really, it should be up to this rather caddish gent to state his intentions and stop spreading the word around town that he's keen to stick his tongue in your ear, but if you truly feel you can't go on any longer without at least knowing his position then go right ahead and put your cards on the table. Just be prepared for a sad smile and a long speech about how he thinks you're great but can't possibly leave Louisa as it would break her heart and he hopes this won't make things awkward for you in future etc, as sometimes these sidestep flirtations are just that - pressure-valve releases from commitment and never intended to be seen through.

On the other hand, you're falling. He might be too. Stranger things have happened.

********************

We're clear. Thanking you for your patience on this holidaying edition of q and a.

Next week will be query-free as I'll be taking in the Northern beaches - hopefully hand-in-hand with a very droll and handsome fellow who will read me excerpts from Robert Hughes novels and kiss me on the neck when I least expect it.

Dare to dream, people.

Leave your questions for the Friday following in the comments below and I'll get to them when I'm good and able.

117 days til the next election.

More news from the hospice.

2007-07-19T09:42:00.001+10:00

I promise I won't spend each and every day of the next two weeks speaking bacon about my a) wide and varied accommodations b) lesbionic Queensland-based road trip, but this wee tale is a little too special to pass up.

Yesterday Gen and I arrived in Toowoomba (having giddily been photographed en route next to - yes - the Big Orange) and were hunting down a bed for the night when we stumbled completely by chance upon a archaic 50's motel. Being the purveyors of upstanding trash that we are, we climbed up the perfect ramshackle stairs and ran into a startled-looking man who asked us what we were doing there.

Me: Actually, we were looking to book a room for the night.

Nice man: Oh.

Gen: Do you have anything available?

Nice man: Of course. Which hospital or medical facility recommended you?

Me: .....

Nice man: Or was it a particular doctor?

Gen: ....Neither. We just saw you on the road and drove in.

Nice man: Oh! How amusing.

******************

Turns out we had accidentally discovered a charity hospice which provided accommodation for those either undergoing long-term medical treatment or visiting a relative in palliative care or awaiting the birth of a child, etc. The lovely man in charge assured us we were welcome to stay there as long as we were alright with being housed in a 'retro' room.

Nice man: It's got a circular bed, you see...

Me: WE'LL PAY IN ADVANCE.

Sure enough, the room contained a round bed with a pea-green velvet headboard and the type of mismatched 1957 furniture usually confined to grandparental living areas. The television required slapping to get a picture and the in-room telephone was a direct line to the hospital and 'only to be used if you require an ambulance or medical support'. The rest of the place looked like The Shining and was filled with similarly dusty furnishings and bizarre wall-hangings.

We were partially intrigued and mildly freaked out, until we thought about the kinds of emotional ghosts which usually linger in hotels and chalets like the one we'd just left - unbridled lust, bitter arguments, marriage-saving yearnings; fizzy champagne corks of feeling - and realised that those which now hung dense in the air around us included hope, and deep existential sadness; breathless anticipation for life, faith, stark prayer, grief.

It was both sobering and heartwarming to know those who had been in that circular bed before us and existed amongst those awkward, blessed pieces of furniture had been living a moment far more dangerous and beautiful than an oily rendevouz in a two-person hydrotherapy spa.

If you're passing by this way, it's called Glennon House. The round beds and padded bars won't last long, so do try to seek it out while you're still able.

118 days til the next election.

Sweet chalet.

2007-07-18T10:38:00.000+10:00

I am currently working my way through the Gold Coast Hinterland with my beloved Gen, and today we hit the road once more to explore the sordid world of country townships - forgive me if my updates are sporadic. God knows where or how I'm going to manage Friday q and a.

Anyhow.

We arrived in Mt. Tamborine searching for suitable accommodation for two reasonably shabby Fitzroyal-type fruits and stumbled across an exotic looking Sound Of Music-type building which billed itself as LUXURY ACCOMMODATION FOR COUPLES.

Me: Does this mean we can't stay here?

Gen: Maybe we have to pretend to be lesbians.

Me: I'm game if you are.

Booking in itself was reasonably breezy but CAN YOU IMAGINE THE TRULY DELIGHTFUL BED OUR CHALET HAD IN STORE FOR US?

I jest not. We were in Franco Cozzo heaven.

Worth turning gay for if only for a moment, I'm sure you'd agree.

119 days til the next election.

Trash glamour, within reason.

2007-07-17T11:02:00.000+10:00

There are a few things you pretty much have to do if you spend time on the Gold Coast, and last weekend I think I covered most of them. My beloved mob and I stayed in a Miami Vice-style highrise, imbibed liquor with reckless intent, and went to Dreamworld and elbowed children in the face to get pole position on rides. We even spent an eventful evening eating buffalo wings at the Mermaid Beach Hooters, followed by a drunkenly violent gig at the Coolangatta Airport Hotel (attached to - I kid you not - a petrol station. A quality music venue by any standards). From memory someone was 'glassed' during the third song. Good times.

We also managed to cross a long-held dream of mine off the list when we booked in for one of those offensively lame Olde Time photographs. For years I've been super keen to dress up as a cowboy with a gun and I finally managed to coerce my long-suffering companions to join me on the adventure.

Grumpy girl: So I'll just find some costumes for you guys...

Me: I want to be a cowboy.

Grumpy girl: .....Okay...

Me: With a gun.

Grumpy girl: Um, sure. Fine.

Me: Do you have any fake moustaches?

Grumpy girl: No, sorry.

Dirty Derek: Can I have a cane?

Grumpy girl: I'll get your props in a minute...if the two boys just want to try these vests on.

Hotman: Can I be a saloon wench?

Grumpy girl: (suddenly cold) We can't let boys dress up as girls. It stretches the costumes.

Hotman: Bummer.

Me: Can he wear a feather boa then? That would be sweet.

Grumpy girl: I can't let you do that either.

Lee: Why not?

Grumpy girl: Because there are children here.

Gen: What?

Grumpy girl: (losing cool) I shouldn't even be letting her dress as a boy, but I'm just not in the mood to argue today. Now take the costumes you're given and go arrange yourselves around the bar.

*****************

She seriously wouldn't let one of the boys wear a feather boa lest it corrupt the innocent minds of waiting children. Wtf is that about? Are those Olde Time photo places really such high-faluting moral compasses?

Should I be writing to my local MP about this?

FREEDOM FOR CROSS-DRESSING PURVEYORS OF LOWBROW POP-CULTURE NOVELTY HOLIDAY ACTIVITIES, I SAY.

Friday q and a #78.

2007-07-13T18:57:00.000+10:00

Oh boy, I'm on the Gold Coast and surrounded by beloveds and preparing for a couple of weeks in the sunshine. Strange occurrences and mix tapes and o! loveliness in Collinghood and all of a sudden Byron Bay seems a giddy prospect ARE YOU ENVIOUS YET.

I can't believe I'm looking out at the ocean and so overtired I'm thinking in Egyptian and yet attempting to answer Friday questions. There's something seriously wrong with me.

Anonymous said...
'allo treacle,

my questions are three:

1) should i move to melbourne? i'm on the cusp of a sad, sad break-up, nursing a bruise of an ill-advised (but keenly felt) crush on someone reasonably unattainable, and struggling to keep my head above water in the dreariest of british summers (empirically, the wettest month in 50 years. joy.).

2) would moving under these circumstances - even though it's something i've longed to do for years - constitute running away?

3) if i did make the big move, where would you suggest pitching my tent?

thanking you kindly, o oracle...

Hello, Anonymous. I'm sorry you're going through such a trying time. Would it help if I told you that Daryl Somers probably cries himself to sleep every night? We can LOL and ROFL at his emotional pain together as we are callous cunts and thus nature balances itself.

To your questions.

1) A big move could really go either way for you - obviously freeing yourself from your sticky heartbreak and starting anew in a strange city might be just the thing to jazz up your waking hours and release the Beast Within(TM), though being unleashed and unanchored may give you too much worry in your anxious belly. I say do it. You only live once/a life unexamined, etc.

2) Possibly, but who cares? Who are these naysayers to judge your emotionally abrupt decision-making process? You are free to make a hash of your life and behave erratically and there ain't a damn thing those pencil-pushers up at City Hall can do about it.

3) Brunswick. Beautiful, earthy, green, full of handsomeness. Your life will be richer and for what it's worth I think you are brave and marvellous.

Jess said...
Anonymous 8.01pm - move. Trust me. It's fucking ace down here.

The sunscreen Nazi will no doubt go further to convince you of Melbourne's majesty so I'll be off.

x

'The Sunscreen Nazi', huh? Another gem to add to my plethora of colourful nicknames courtesy of you.

THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING UNCOOL ABOUT AVOIDING SKIN CANCER, YOUNG LADY.

Jess said...
Reading last week's questions was an odd experience, as I was reading Mia Timpano's piece in the latest frankie and listening to Amy Winehouse, and then went into the kitchen for some organic dark chocolate and miso soup, and came back and clicked refresh only to find all these things mentioned in one form or another.

Now I'm listening to Beck and eating dry weetbix with Vegemite and butter, and hope to see these things incorporated duly next Friday, although maybe I just jinxed it by mentioning them.

Anyway, I just wanted to get in first(ish), but since this is a Q&A...does purchasing an electric blanket imply definitively giving up on the warm snuggly boy front?

That's quite the challenge, Jess. I'll see what I can do.

Re: electric blanket purchase. It most certainly does not. It simply implies that you are creating a warm and inviting bedly nook for your next paramour to slumber safely in between bouts of staring at you with increasingly awestruck adoration and taking to your vagina with fevered passion. Won't he be appreciative of the effort you've gone to? A set of clean sheets and an all-encompassing warmth will most likely push him over the edge and you'll never get him to leave.
Lucky thing.

Miss T said...
Dear Ms Fits,

First, I would like to thank you for keeping this blog up and running -- it has provided me with much needed entertainment and I always thoroughly enjoy reading your writing.

My question for you is: what is your lipstick of choice and why? I'm a bit suspicious of those "long lasting 16hr+" ones because they just look suss.

Also, are you a wearer of sunscreen?

Cheers!

a) Actually, I'm quite a fan of those long-lasters as I tend to make a spectacle of myself when presented with amounts of food and the more rigid ones will stay on through three courses and an extensive doorstop tonguekiss, although you'll probably need to hire a team of welders to get it off before you go to bed. At the moment I'm wearing a Cover Girl red, if you must know.

b) Yes, very much. And big hats. I am incredibly sunsmart. AS SHOULD YOU ALL BE, ESPECIALLY FOOLHARDY BLOGGER LADIES NAMED JESSICA.

Max B said...
"The sunscreen Nazi will no doubt go further to convince you of Melbourne's majesty so I'll be off."

There you go, Miss T! Question answered!

Jess, are you the same "insider" who goes to the effort of defending Ms Fits from the claim, on Mikeed's blog, that she's a smoker?

It really doesn't make that much difference to me if people claim that I am a smoker, to be honest. I'm not, and never have been. Worrying about false claims on other people's blogs seems like a total waste of time although if anyone ever outs me as a Callea fan I'm going to come looking for them and cut them while they sleep.

Big Matt Stud said...
Ms Fits, I don't know if you ever collected footy cards during your
time as a youthful cake baking, Tim Pekin stalking Fitzroy tragic, but
I thought you might enjoy this collection of 22
worst footy cards from the 1970s, put together by somebody from
the AFL as part of a tribute to Heritage Round.

Now, the AFL is not normally noted for its sense of humour, and I don't know who put these together, but the commentary on the cards is absolutely hilarious. Click on each card and mouse over it to see what I mean. My personal favourite is the Carl Ditterich card, but there are many gems to be enjoyed here, and being a long suffering Melbourne supporter I note with some pride that the three most incompetent
looking footballers were all running around for the Dees.

Does this count as a question ? Probably not but I just felt I wanted to share.

Not really a question, but yes. Utterly worth sharing. And I did indeed collect a fine brick of Scanlens which presumably remain wedged in the back of a cupboard at my folks' place unless they've sold them and spent the money on crack cocaine/slave children named Pax.

Jane said...

I'm curious, have you heard from Brett Birkhill?

I haven't, no. Not since I went to my high school reunion and made a bee-line for him, grabbing him by his lapels and shouting I WROTE A STORY ABOUT WHEN WE WENT ON A DATE TO THE ZOO AND I LAUGHED SO HARD I WET MY PANTS ISN'T THAT JUST TWELVE EXOTIC TYPES OF MARVELLOUS before being dragged away by security and turfed unceremoniously out onto Church street. I can't imagine why he hasn't looked me up since.

Anonymous said...
unless you're planning to invite myself,hamish and shaun around for an evening of mersey valley, wine and some kind of game that involves clothes being removed, you just love them from afar. I've bagsed them already.

Perhaps I'm planning just that, Anon. Do you think Hamish and Shaun would prefer red or white? I'll get a bottle of both ~~so we can get them loaded and leap their deeply amusing bones~~ just to be on the safe side.

richardwatts said...
1. Where does one find a redhead to loll (or even LOL) about with?

2. What if I don't like whisky? Will port or a good red suffice?

3. What if there's no clean sheets; is it rude to loll about on one's
housemate's bed if they've been to the laundrette more recently than
you?

4. Am I being too literal?

5. Your thoughts on Kerouac? I like his life more that his literature,
which I think cries out for a rigorous editor; and
you?

1. I found mine hiding in a corner at the European Bier Cafe looking offensively handsome in a 60's suit, but I wouldn't recommend you go there trawling for bloodnuts as it seems to be overstocked with cockspanks in rugby t-shirts rubbing up against each other to bad house music. I'm not certain where our ginger brothers linger 'en unit', though it's a safe bet they'd be staying well away from the sun's cancerous rays so St. Kilda beach can be struck off the list for starters.

2. A good red always suffices, young man. Always. See q. 1.

3. It's probably rude, but I'd say it's the done thing in most rock n roll share houses these days. I got home from some time away recently to find evidence which suggested the nice girl minding my apartment may have perhaps participated in some kind of drug/sex party in my bed and was relatively unfazed by it. It's only bodily fluids, after all.

p.s. This is not an open invitation for any of you people to come and make with the sweaty nookie in my bed while I'm up north. I mean it, you know.

4. No. I EXPECT TO BE TAKEN AT FACE-VALUE.

5. I probably haven't picked up Kerouac since I was a pretentious teenager with lofty literary tastes that I pretended to understand more than I actually did, so I'm not sure I can give a qualified answer. Is it worth exploring On The Road again? I'm open to suggestion.

rubydoomsday said...
"My question is: How does one get a gig for the Lonely Planet?"

can i field this one, fitsy?

you send them an email. that's all i did. try to have already been published, try to have been well travelled. make your email snappy enough to stand out a bit, as they get a few hundred unsolicited gushes a week from people who *really* love to travel and also *really* love to write and automatically (and wrongly) assume they'll be good travel writers and that it's fat expense accounts and five star hotels all the way after that. it's not, but it's still the best job i've ever had.

oh, and don't piss off your editors so much that they decide you're hard to work with. even if they like your writing. sigh.

verification: wjigl - do a bit of this, too. can't hurt.

Spoken by one who has 'been there', as they say in the trade.

You are always free to field questions Rubes; less work for me and all that.

The Last Scientician said...
Hommus isn't Greek, ya duffer

You're right, it's not. It's also spelt 'hummus'.

I never pretended to have smrts, you know.

*bangs on forehead with spoon*

Fenz said...
This makes me want to declare myself wholly sodden with lesbonitis
and shack up with a ladyfriend just to buck the system. Any available
RYWHM fillies keen?

*raises hand and waves manically*
oooh me, me, pick me, pick meeee!

:)

Right you are then, Fenz. Let's gay it the fuck up. I'd probably prefer to be the femme, but if you want me to 'do' trousers I'm happy to give it a shot as I am prepared to make several personal sacrifices in order to buck the system.

gigglewick said...
Dear Ms Fits,

I did like The Sharp, back in the day and even bought their first album. I also had a single* with a cover of 'Vicious' on it that I still think of fondly, despite its apparent disappearance from my CD collection (a mystery which could possibly be explained by my flirtation with the North Fitzroy "scene" in the mid-late 90s).

My question is: have you listened to their music recently and if so, what do you make of it all these years hence?

gigglewick

* At 30, buying CD singles strikes me as a very teenage thing to do. Who the hell has got time to listen to a single these days? Unless it is your job, obvs.

It's very difficult to listen to a band you were once devoted to as a somewhat misguided teen with completely objective ears, gigglewick. Every precious rendition of 'Scratch My Back' is accompanied by a flip-book of brainflashes; heady nights sneaking around the Espy beer garden or wearing hotpants to the New Orleans, or simply sitting at Sing Sing studios eating hot pita bread from the downstairs Lebanese bakery and avoiding the attentions of Johnny Diesel. Obviously my musical library has extended since early pop obsessions, thanks to the kindly attentions of erstwhile paramours, and the songs that once made me want to sit up and say MY WORD YES now occasionally appear a little on the Iced VoVo side.

Having said that, I do like the odd meander down knees-up boulevard. Bring me your pop, your diet folk, your C and C Music Factory. I will treat them with kindness.

Also:

Jimmy said...
In response to Gigglewicks earlier post, I have the same Sharp EP - thank you for reminding me to dig it out later.

For the benefit of other readers, it also contained rather spiffing covers of Hanging on the Telephone and Lovecats.

I commend it to all, and quietly hope they will one day re-form. Sigh.

Perhaps we can get them to play at the next Blogger drinks, Jimmy. I don't doubt they'd be keen to slide into the skivvies and deliver us from evil with their popsy goodtimes.

YET MORE:

Big Matt Stud said...

The re-appearance of The Sharp sub-thread gives me an excuse to trot out my Sharp related stories:

1. I think I was nearly in The Sharp, or at least the pre-cursor, which I think was called something like 67 Sharp (do I hear 68, 69 ?) I went for a meeting/audition with this guy called Charlie Rooke who said he was looking to start a rockabilly covers band and then start playing originals. He gave me a tape of songs to learn and then I'm not sure what happened. I think I went overseas to chase a girl, and when I came back I found that they'd become famous. This worked out well all round because the bass player they ended up with was a much better musician than I am, and I kind of didn't like them all that much. For some reason the double bass was particularly irritating to me.

2. Much later when I was in my very own little-known early nineties band* (TM) we actually played with The Sharp in some hell hole in Gippsland (Drouin, Warragul ? and apologies to any readers from either of those places). During load out** I actually held the hated double bass in my hand and had a sudden impulse to smash it, which thankfully I resisted.

Again, not a question, sorry.

*I'm not trying to start another round of I'm Not Craig style guess-which-band-that-nobody's-ever-heard -of-BMS-was-in, but given that nobody would ever have heard of us it's a little pointless naming them. And it's kind of ironic that one of the comments which inspired me to write this one was by Gigglewick, who appears to be INC's partner. Spooky.

**Ah, the joy of waiting around to load out the main band's gear on a weeknight in Drouin. There's the glamorous rock and roll lifestyle for you. Good times.

Christ on a bike, it's the Sharp-sponsored Friday q and a.

You realise I'm now busting to know which band you were in, BMS? Go on, can we start a new game? I love that lame Mormon-let's-all-sit-together-and-clap-hands stuff.

Freehugstommy said...
Fits my dear,
I have just returned from the extremely entertaining and rather erotic
Burlesque Hour More. Have you yet been to see this marvelous piece of
entertainment? If so, what was your favourite part? If not, why not?
No, seriously, why not?

Of course I have, Freehugstommy - my Gabi's Town Bikes have been the special guest act for about five thousand shows and even toured Edinburgh with Moira and co. I loved the Burlesque Hour far more than I expected to as I'm not usually overly partial to highbrow performance art though to be honest my favourite bit was standing out the front of one particular performance holding Gab's costume bags and being congratulated on my non-existent performance by someone who thought I was a Bike.

I accepted graciously, of course.

Anonymous said...
Stands With A Fits,

What are the seven wonders of Melbourne?

1. The Bolte Bridge.

2. The Town Hall during Comedy Festival.

3. Those massive cyborg apartments that look like an army of space boats dominating Docklands.

4. Clusters of trees that hide sexing in the Botanical Gardens.

5. The Erwin Rado Theatre.

6. The Supper Club.

7. My mum.

Anonymous said...
Fits and giggles,

would you please share your thoughts on seapatrol and josh lawson.

Sea Patrol I've not yet seen, though I predicted it would be a bit of a smash as I am a cunning soothsayer who you should all really pay more attention to. Josh Lawson captured my imagination when I saw him performing in Co**on's brilliant play, The Fifth At Randwick. His comic timing is absolutely fucking impeccable and it was only a matter of time before people started paying close attention. Is he making with the funny on Sea Patrol or just striding around in a jumpsuit dragging people with turbans out of the ocean? I really must watch an episode sometime in the near future.

Anonymous said...
Why do you wear your hair the way you do?

Because I'm used to it, I guess. I've done it this way for years and I'm very low-maintenance when it comes to grooming and I don't actually give a fucking shit if someone I've never met thinks it looks fey.

Although now that I've been scouted as a hair model I may have to lift my game, clearly.

Di said...
Thru Frankie I got to know you.
Wonderful person, you.
I'll read more from you.
and maybe I'll meet you.

What a nice poem. A pleasure to meet you too, Di. Let's celebrate with an orgy of Facebook poking if we ever come into physical contact.

Anonymous said...
A question Ms Fits if I may, Where in the world do you get a decent brazilian wax in Melbourne? I've tried two places and:

Establishment A) Left hair in rather obvious places and was rather 'unfriendly' which made me even more uncomfortable about whipping out my bits! Plus she's given me some sort of strange triangle-ish pubic hair coif - which I may need a merkin for because even though I explained I think i'm suffering male pattern baldness - she did it
anyway.

And Establishment B) also a no go - I thought they may have actually
removed part of my labia along with the wax, and again left a bit of stubble.

(As i'm rather sparse down there, I'm presuming it's not because I
have a thatch you'd need a whipper snipper to get through - i'm assuming they were just bad waxers)

Any advice would be most appreciated!

I swear by 4 Me in Westgarth, even though I find the name unbearably offensive on at least six levels. They're at 108 High St Northcote and I found them after some similarly horrific experiences - although from memory I've never had portions of my labia stripped from my body by an over-enthusiastic young beautician, so you win there.

Anonymous said...
After two months in the delightful city of Melbourne i'm yet to find a job, a place to live and my family are begging me to come home. I am here to be with my fiance, and things are going well, apart from the above.

My questions are as follows:

1) I'm a smart, hardworking person with qualifications and a great personality - why the heck wont someone give me a chance?

2) How long can I remain living with my fiance's family when i'm already at the end of my rope after two months?

3) Should I pack it all in and go back to what I know?

Thanks Fitsy :)

1) I can't answer this one, but I think you're doing the right thing. These things often take more time than first imagined, and it's worth exercising some patience. To blazes with the remainder of the world. You keep throwing your smartness out there and some genius is going to take the bait eventually.

2) Another month. After that you need to move into a Travelodge.

Also: USE YOUR I-POD AT ALL TIMES.

3) No. Stick it out. Above all else you have love in your life, which is to be celebrated each and every day.

Anonymous said...
murakami fan,

alas, tokyo's too far. melbourne is closer, and (thank the lord) we don't have denny's. we do have robot bar though. i think they even have little Japanese plastic cats at the bar. i'm game if you are..

This hook-up is really happening, isn't it? Are you two going to call your first child Senora Fitsakami II? I don't mind if you do.

niknik said...
RE: Crush on younger boy

I happened to have graduated from high school in the year 2000 as well. I dont think it would be going too far to say that in general, we're a pretty good bunch- go for it. I'd definitely go for someone of your 'vintage' (i mean this in the most complementary of ways).

my question: you mentioned once that you are usually in front of the computer screen by 8.30am.. what time do you go to bed? i imagine you must go out quite a bit, being the raging socialite and rabid music fan that you are, so how on earth do you manage to get up so early?

silly question i know, but im quite curious as im having lots of problems dragging myself out of bed before midday these days (full time student, cold weather etc).
thanks,
niknik.

Someone of my 'vintage'. OH GOD I'VE TURNED INTO A FUCKING PINOT.

Thanks for the encouragement with the whole 'wee young whippersnapper boys' conundrum. You're right, the ones I've encountered so far have indeed been upstanding gentlemen and most pleasant company. I will continue to lunge at them with deeply lecherous intent.

Re your query: I'm actually in bed by midnight most nights, though weekends I tend to stay out later with my foolishly hedonistic companions. I find that I'll usually awaken with a start at dawn pretty much every morning so it's in my best interests to try and get slumberous with time to spare lest I spend the entire next day staring dumbly into space and playing Alex Chilton records.

klyntone said...

Good day Ms Fits,

Reading this blog thing is lots of fun, having only been on my face for several months after seventeenish years off said face everything is so new and shiny, so even though I have clocked up a third of a century I feel I have inherited th teenage existence I tried so hard to run from. I have some perhaps mixed up idea that being extreme left would mean not doing anything as right wing as say voting and… well, having put in so much time escaping th attention of th A.E.C what would your argument be to encourage me to enroll and then of course vote?

Are you for serious, on-face? Do you not give flying figlettes about the world you live in? Surely being an extreme leftist does not preclude one from shaping the nation with votes.

Honestly. Get that fucking forgetful glassy-eyed robot out of there and make your mark. It will only take a moment of your time, I swear. The AEC are your friends and they'll make you mix tapes if you ask nicely. They might even buy you dinner.

Ben said...

Do you get sick of blogging? I often feel "I should really keep updating my blog", but then my blog is mainly for me to make up stories and post puns I just thought of, because my life is boring - that's why it was great when my son's birthday came, because, hey! easy blog post, lookit the little person! But then, I think, why should I feel any pressure? No one is out there thinking, dammit, WHY hasn't Le Behemoth posted lately? I NEED the latest episode of Guanacoman!

But you're different because you are the beloved celebrity type, and we crave your brain-squeezings. Do you get sick of keeping it up, or is every post more joyous than the last?

And why do people always want to keep children off the streets? How will they learn? I think we should be working to put more children on the streets, and maybe get them to race each other.

Also, I can't quite put my finger on it, but isn't there something inherently wrong about a show called How To Look Good Naked that is almost entirely concerned with finding flattering clothes for people to wear? How To Look Good Naked = Wear nicer clothes???

I didn't say hi to Helen for you, because I didn't read that until after I'd been on and I didn't know that she was someone you'd want someone to say hi to for you. Next time, I suppose. Helen is very nice to me, but intimidates me subtly. That's my own complex, though - most people intimidate me.

So I have a book that my sister gave me to read, then what shall I read? I haven't read most of the books I've seen you recommend - should I start with Vonnegut? Or Confederacy of Dunces? Or should I bone up on my classics and make another attempt to plough through Ulysses?

Hola Ben.

*bows*

1. I do get sick of blogging occasionally, but try to monitor those days carefully and simply stay the hell away from the computer. For the most part it's a joy and obviously it's nice to have such an immediate reaction to your inane rantings even if said feedback is along the lines of UR A SUCKHOLE AT WRITINGS WOMYN. Why bother if it's not joyful? If I have days where it's just too difficult I simply blow it off and go to a bar. That's right, I'm lowbrow.

2. You're correct, children should remain on the streets. Boot the little buggers out. STARTING WITH YOURS.

3. I've never watched that particular series. How does one look good naked wearing certain layers exactly? I look good naked in a tutu, though am encouraged by most people to leave it at home when I'm game for an evening out.

4. Start with Vonnegut - he's relatively simple and beautiful. I just demolished Breakfast of Champions and it made me a mildly better person for all of twenty minutes. Make of that what you will.

Anonymous said...

Dear Fits

I have been reading and enjoying your blog for a couple of years now, and have noticed the arrival of blog parasites such as Mikeed and a couple of other malfunctioning fucknuckles in more recent times.

I know you have a policy of letting disturbed rightwing ranters do what they do best, but it's ruining my enjoyment.

My question is: can you please cut these fuckheaads off and remove their boring and aggro posts for the sake of your other readers?

Conduct a poll if necessary.

Cheers from SAL

I've deleted a couple of the lengthier and more useless comments, actually. I'd prefer not to wade in like a bullyboy and bin the fuckwads, but yeah - if it gets too much I'm happy to just use my discretion and randomly slash. I'm a Gemini and a lady; I'm entitled to change my mind without a moment's notice.

Thoughts, all?

Anonymous said...

RYWHM Community Notice Board- I'll be in Sydney for about 30 hours next week and would like to make the most of it, can i have suggestions please?

It's probably a good time for you to experiment with your sexuality, Anon. They're very open minded up that way. I'd suggest a thorough cock sucking session or veedge bath soaking. Failing that you should auction off your house and have dinner at Tetsuyas before drinking Jager shots at the Judgement Bar and making eyes at handsome young actors. Stay at the Intercontinental and take afternoon cocktails at a rooftop bar. Then lie awake all night singing songs by Yes.

Each to their own, though.

snorks said...

From Q&A 52:

"snorks said...

Did you see the "This Land" animation before the last US election?

http://www.jibjab.com/thisland.html

Do you know of any talented and motivated Aussies that could develop something similar for the PM? Highlights of Johnny's view of the "Australian Dream" perhaps?"

"ms fits said...

I know of several talented and motivated fellow countrymen that could no doubt spend a few happy hours fiddling with computer animation programs until they invented a song-and-dance routine involving John Howard, a hills hoist and the breezily dangling corpses of some dead Iraqi children, sure. Should we set them to work or do people honestly not give a shit anymore? This is a serious question."

One answer is:

http://media.theaustralian.news.com.au/nich/20070711_Yesterday.html

My questions is: Can someone do better?

I'd say we've got better in us, yes. Though it's nice to see folk putting hours into anti-government animations and song medleys. Perhaps we should start some kind of political parody band? Bags me saxophone.

jctrue said...

dear ms fits
this is heavy
but still, it could be fun having you answer it ...

what are your aspirations in life, love and spirituality for the next year?

love

jctrue

1. Life - More of the same, I think. Fine fooding, fevered scribbling, literary soaking. Bathed in the slap-ham awesomeness of my friends and at the lustful mercy of cleverly dry brainiacs. Spending quality time with the best dog in the world. I don't really aim higher than that, am I lacking ambition?

2. Love - Lots of eye-connecting sexualisation with someone whose droll nature and biscuit-scented skin fair takes my breath away. Surely that's not too much to ask.

3. Spirituality - I want to buy one of those 'Goddess Is Dancing' stickers and put it on the bumper of the Krankivan. Then I want to shoot myself in the eye.

************

SATURDAY Q AND A UPDATE:

the.monuments.we.build said...

Hi Ms Fits,

(Not-so-)long time reader, first-time question asker, and all that crap.

So here's the thing. I just finished reading The Rachel Papers, by Martin Amis, and I know you like his work. I'm not sure if you've read this one? but if so... I blogged about it last night, because I feel awfully bad about how well I identify with the male characters in the book.

I wondered if it was an exclusively Male thing to behave this way, but after some thought I doubt that. Maybe it comes from not meeting the right person. In my case, being gay doesn't help, because the "all men are pigs" line then applies to both sides of the equation, which some couples "solve" with open relationships. But once again that's a sexist cop-out.

So I guess, if you are familiar with the book, here are my questions:
1) Do you think the behaviour of Charles, Norman and Charles' Father is typically a "male thing", or can women be just as .. shallow/capricious/etc?
2) Should I feel bad about identifying so much with Charles even though he has the excuse of being 19 and I am nearly 28?

If you haven't read the book .. well, maybe you can discard this question. Or add The Rachel Papers to your pile and get back to me!

xie la,
D.

PS: sorry my previous post had a bad anchor tag in it, so I've reposted.

I'm not only familiar with The Rachel Papers, I am an unabashed fan. It's like hearing an early Amis demo tape sifting through his excessive verbage and admiring the way he attempts to impress himself with magnificently flowery prose.

Additionally, I'm with you on the somewhat shamefacedly relating to Charles and his pompous fickle nature - which presumably means that no, being a callous and judgemental love interest is not solely confined to the more hirsuite sex. Surely it's an individual thing, anyway. There are bullish and cocky moral scoundrels who favour a skirt, just as there are devoted and monogamous wifely fellows. I don't think one particular quality can be deemed solely a mannish one unless of course it's touching each other on the bottoms as a congratulatory gesture which remains mystifying to this day.

With regard to inhabiting somewhat teensome qualities in your almost-thirtiness there...I refuse to pass judgement on your inability to break free from adolescent emotional backwash as I too remain firmly mired in coltish babybrain and as yet see no way forward into the world of adulthood. Let us thumb our nose at convention together.

Anonymous said...

Ms fits,

I love my boyfriend to death. We click on every level..except...we fight. Alot. Like more than John and Janette Howard would after she's had a few too many wines.

We are both amazingly firey people and neither of us like to lose. We are also a bit 'touchy' and get slightly offended when the other makes an off the cuff comment (like last night he called me 'queen of moody' logically, I have no idea why it upset me but it did).We talk about why we fight and resolve not to do it again, but alas two weeks later we have a spat over something small, don't talk for a few hours, then we are fine again.

What the hell can I/we do to fix the fighting apect of our otherwise amazing relationship?

Thanks!!

Maddy x

Oh, that's a difficult one. People really can set each other off occasionally, can't they? Whether it's a chemical reaction or just poisonous fately challenge, once a mode of communication has been locked into by two somewhat fiery spirits like yourselves it does seem hard to adjust. I've had some all-out barneys with a couple of ex partners, including one which climaxed with me throwing a glass bottle at the red and angry face on the other side of the room (I'm not proud of this) and the very notion of spitting venom at the person whose very being makes your kidneys vibrate is just heartbreaking. Ultimately I find too much conflict erodes the soul and usually end up neatly extricating myself from those particular relationships as I am ALL ABOUT PEACE.

You're doing the right thing by discussing the bouts afterwards, though it doesn't seem to be cutting matters off at the pass. Can you create a certain signal in the cool light of day that gives you both a moment to get out of each other's faces? Sometimes even racking off to the backyard for five minutes of circular breathing can dissipate a punch-on and if anything having one of you shouting I'M SENDING YOU INTO THE CALMNESS BOX KID might be amusing enough to end it right then and there.

Anonymous said...

A question if I may,

Five years ago, I adpoted a dog from the RSPCA. She was about to be put down the following day and I have exactly five minutes to make the choice if I would adopt her or not.
I did. And it was the best moment of my life.
I'd sneak her into bed on cold mornings, cook her special meals, buy her toys, take her everywhere with me. We survived a relationship break up together, two operations (hers and mine) and even unemployment (clearly that was me, not her). She truly was and is my best friend. But now i've had to leave her to move away for work. It's been two months and I just can't get over the massive void she has left in my life. I miss her. Even though i've left her in the house she grew up in with an amazingy kind man looking after her, I still can't get over the heavy feeling left in my heart.

My question is: Do you think, she thinks I have abandoned her?
I know I could never replace her, but if you ever had to leave bob ellis (dog) what would you do?

Please give bob ellis (dog) a hug on my behalf.

Thanks for your time fitsy x

Oh, you poor darlin'. That sounds a terrible experience. I can't imagine leaving Bob Ellis for longer than a few weeks at a stretch, and last time I came home from time away she displayed her annoyance with me by quietly urinating on the living room floor which seemed relatively fair enough and has been the way I deal with most of my upsets since.

Who knows how much canines take on board emotionally; if they sit in the kitchen trembling and howling and counting the hours 'til we return or if they simply let the hours fly by like goldfish, staring at the sofa cushion and only realising we've been away a long time due to our new and exciting haircut. It's relatively difficult to say for certain that your hound is suffering separation issues or simply revelling in her new life with a lovely dad. Are you able to visit or is it causing you too much grief?

I'm afraid I've never really contemplated leaving B.Ellis. If an offer sprang up to live overseas for a year I'd probably have to decline, though I understand why you did what you did. Boy, I've only been out of Melbourne for twenty four hours and I'm already missing my dog. Maybe I'll scratch Gen on the belly and see if it suffices for now.

nico said...

My question is, can you find my friend a new flatmate/s?
He lives in Northcote (near Westgarth) in a two bedroom single fronted terrace and has had some bad luck of late with transient flatmate's occupying, and leaving, his spare room. His name is Pete and he's pretty easy-going. I'd live there if I wasn't legally bound to my present address.
Thanks Fits.

Sure, why not?

Anyone looking to throw caution to the wind and bunk into the New York end of High street with a complete stranger lauded as 'easy-going' on an annoying pop-culture blog? Beats perusing the Flatmates Wanted window of Readings, I'd wager.

Easily Confused said...

Hello Ms Fits,

Am I the only person who reads these stupid relationship advice articles on the way to Yahoo mail and then gets worried about their relationship?

Number 5 made me giggle though:
"5. Losing sexual interest. A healthy sex life can make or break a relationship. If you find that your partner is becoming more sexually aloof, you need to get to the root of the issue."

Root! HA! Oh dear, sorry about that, easily confused and amused.

xx

Probably not the only one, no. Following the Yahoo links when you're checking mail is the internet equivalent of impulse buying, though you should really be paying scant attention to advice columns which begin 'One day, you are madly in love. You're cuddling on the couch, reading love poems and feeding each other sushi' as they are clearly written by messengers of Satan.

Also Number 1 may be bad news for our warring friend up there:

'1. Picking fights. No one is saying you have to get along 24/7. Constructive conflict can actually be good for your relationship. But if you find that your partner has become argumentative over petty issues like your clothes or choice of restaurant, that should serve as a warning sign that he/she may be looking for an excuse to bail.'

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, Maddy.

bianca said...

Dear Ms,
Is it ok to sometimes hate your pet? My cat is 15 years old, and sometimes has a little "accident". He also gets dags, which I sometimes don't notice until after he's been lovingly sitting on my cream velour couch.
I adore my cat, really I do, but this is driving me mad. I can't stand the thought of putting him down, even though he's clearly at the pet-version of nanna nappies.
Would you suggest I try meditation, or taking to him with clippers?
Yours, in pet ownership.
Verification: fgffjyq -- much like what I scream when he forgets to clean his butt .... FGFFJYQ!!!

I don't think 'hate' is the right word, but it's certainly normal for a pet and their owner to get sniffy with each other on occasion. You're constant companions and forever all 'up' in the other's 'grill' and it's inevitable that some days you simply want to boot your beloved bundle of love in the butt and shout FOR FUCK'S SAKE STOP STARING AT ME WHEN I'M MAKING SEX just as they occasionally think we sound stupid when we try to talk about politics and should really lay off the white wines before dinner.

Yes, clipper your feline and accept their foibles as you would a long-term partner when they get on a bit and insist on driving with the seat so close to the steering wheel their forehead is touching the windscreen. It's a sign of true love that you weather such messy storms, and besides which seeing a cat in tiny Depends would just be about the most adorable thing ever.

**********************

< / update>

So it goes. I am free to torment Sunshine Coast teens and take to the road.Leave questions for next Friday in the comments below, please. And enjoy your time in church.

124 days til the next election.

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING.

2007-07-12T09:32:00.000+10:00

Yesterday I was walking down Johnston street wearing the kind of dreamy expression on my face that halfwits do when they're thinking about eating a whole roast chicken and resisting the urge to break into an acapella rendition of Bryan Adams' 'Run To You', when a well-dressed young woman raced up behind me and grabbed me by the shoulder.

Fashionable lady: (catching breath from sprint) Excuse me, sorry to bother you...

Me: Not at all.

Fashionable lady: I was just wondering if you'd like to come and do some modelling.

Me: ......

Fashionable lady: I work at the hair academy there and we saw you go past the window and we wanted to know if you were interested in being a hair model for us.

Me: ....okay, sure.

Fashionable lady: Great! If you've got a second I'll just take you into the office and grab your details.

Me: Right you are then.

(In salon)

Fashionable lady: Here she is, Frank.

Italian hairdresser man: There you are! Mina chased you down the street, yes? Now let me look at you.

*reaches out to run fingers through my hair*

Italian hairdresser man: You like to wear your hair long, yes?

Me: Yeah, I guess.

Italian hairdresser man: Well, we won't cut it if you don't want us to. We can just colour and style, make some fashion. Have you got the time if we give you a call to come and model for us?

Me: Depending on my schedule, sure.

Italian hairdresser man: Marvellous. Mina, take her to the office and get a photograph.

Fashionable lady: Okay, Frank.

(confidentially) You know, he was the one who asked me to chase you. Then I bring you in and he pretends it was my idea. He does that all the time.

(In office)

Fashionable lady: This is Sophie, she'll take your details and grab a photo of you.

Bright young thing: Hi! Could you just stand up against that wall there so I can get a headshot?

Me: Don't you want me to take my hat off?

Bright young thing: No, this should be fine. Look right into the camera...smile...

*takes photo*

Bright young thing: Great! This is soooo exciting! I'll get your name and number so we can get this happening!

**********

I was back out on the street within about three minutes and wondering WHAT IN GOD'S NAME HAD JUST OCCURRED.

Honestly. I'm 31 years old, I get a haircut once every three years and - I believe it's quite safe to say - my days of being uncovered by modelling scouts and lauded as the next exotic thing in superstardom have somewhat passed me by.

Still.

*dreams of a brighter tomorrow*

125 days til the next election.

Petar can haz un-lol!

2007-07-11T12:30:00.000+10:00

"Yeah, I do (cry) actually. I get moved by talent shows, you know, things like Australian Idol. (I cry) sometimes when the singers get put down and cry."

"Yeah, I do (cry) actually. I get moved by talent shows, you know, things like Australian Idol. (I cry) sometimes when the singers get put down and cry."

"Yeah, I do (cry) actually. I get moved by talent shows, you know, things like Australian Idol. (I cry) sometimes when the singers get put down and cry."

"Yeah, I do (cry) actually. I get moved by talent shows, you know, things like Australian Idol. (I cry) sometimes when the singers get put down and cry."

"Yeah, I do (cry) actually. I get moved by talent shows, you know, things like Australian Idol. (I cry) sometimes when the singers get put down and cry."

126 days til the next election.

Un-potted.

2007-07-10T09:52:00.000+10:00

So if none of these men have taken drugs...

Ol' lightbulb head actually dances like this.

Daniel Johns really chooses to dress like a half-man half-lady 1960's tennis player.

AND BONO ACTS LIKE A COMPLETE PIOUS WANKSTAIN WITH LITTLE TO NO CHEMICAL ENHANCEMENT HOW DOES THIS WORK IT DEFIES THE LAWS OF PHYSICS.

127 days til the next election.

p.s. Just as a side-note, google image search 'Bono' with safesearch switched off and you're presented with a photograph of three old men having group sex and sucking each other off. Make of that what you will.

Friday q and a #77.

2007-07-06T08:45:00.000+10:00

*yawns*

Easing into the morning after a quietly thrilling night at a quietly thrilling smoke-free Tote. It feels odd to be home, though my bed is offensively comfortable and impossible to get out of. Also I can't stop listening to 10cc's 'The Things We Do For Love'. SOMETHING IS VERY WRONG WITH ME.

Is it wrong to have a crush on someone who graduated from high school in 2000? Which makes him...

*does maths*

....younger than me?

Anyhow, I've got things to do today. So we may as well press on with Friday questions and see where it gets us...

Hannah said...
Will you be my Facebook friend?

Of course I will. Though I may - and I say this with utmost seriousness - poke you with irritating regularity. You have been warned.

Avi said...
Hi Fits!
Finally plucked up the courage to leave you a note after many friday nights spent alone reading Q & A and secretly seeing if anyone else has confessed anything new to your confessional. It's like PostSecret but without the colours.

Anyway, I'm a Melbourne girl but am up in Sydney for a bit "following my dreams" (note quotes) and working on a big show. It's been pretty great but also really hard and lonely and all those things that come alongside being brave and going after the things you want and realising that maybe, just maybe, they weren't as magical or amazing as you'd hoped. ANYWAY, sorry for the emotional backstory, what I am trying to say is, I had nothing to do today so I sat in Hyde Park (at least the sun shines in Sydney, yes, even in winter) and read the latest issue of Frankie cover to cover. Laughed at your articles (as usual) and also at Mia Timpano's, who mentioned you extensively in one of her articles. So it got me thinking, and here are my questions:

1. What's Mia Timpano like IRL? I was just wondering if she was really nice and lovely and sweet and the cynical, bitchy, angry self she projects in her articles is all a facade?

2. How did you start writing for Frankie? Have you met the editors? Don't they live in Brisbane or something?

And, some unrelated questions:

3. How do you feel about Sydney in general? I'm staying in Surry Hills, which is the Fitzroy of Sydney only not as "scene" - though there are people that dress like Fitzroy kids, it's funny. I think it's the only place in Sydney I could live in; I can leave the rest thank you.

4. What are your favourite suburbs in Melbourne, other than the one in which you live?

5. Do you have a favourite Melbourne coffee haunt?

6. Lastly, it would be great if you could plug my blog. I write about theatre, see, and I haven't kept it up while I've been away, but when I'm back home, people give me tickets to see their plays and then I write about them. I figure, the more people that read my blog, the more people will get to know how much good theatre there is on in Melbourne, and maybe they'll go see it and fall in love with theatre and stop watching Big Brother and go out sometimes and get a life? Idealistic, perhaps?

Anyway, my blog is therestisjustcommentary.blogspot.com. It's called The Rest is Just Commentary.

Thanks for being great.

Hi, Avi.

*waves*

1. Mia Timpano is like a cross between Amy Winehouse and Elaine from Seinfeld. She is wry, self-deprecating, incredibly funny, and she rocks liquid eyeliner like nobody's business. She can also get drunk after about one glass of wine and start shouting and I am enormously fond of her.

2. I was a fan of Frankie from way back and noticed one day that they'd written an article about blogs they liked and mentioned this here ol' one. Being the fiercely ambitious and business-savvy young lady I am, I fanged an electronic missive in their direction and begged them to take me on as if they didn't I would most likely kill myself/them. Harmonious relations ensued and Mia and I even managed to meet our lovely editors face to face in a dark bar one autumnal eve. Upstandingly attractive things they are, too.

3. Having just left a 21 degree Sydney day yesterday in order to fly back to a rainy and bitingly cold Melbourne, I can certainly see why our glamorous harbourtown has its charms. I'm not sure I'd be able to settle there permanently as the constant state of GAY/NOT GAY confusion overwhelming every late-night hookup would eventually do my head in, though I've spent many a pleasant evening chasing thespians around the streets of Darlinghurst and making a mockery of the Judgement Bar jukebox.

Also: spectacular eating, if you know where to go.

4. My favourite Melbourne suburbs are Northcote, Brunswick, Elwood, Carlton and Healesville. In no particular order, just in case the wounded residents of Healesville are currently lighting torches and preparing an all-out assault.

5. I take coffee most mornings at Cavallero, but I'm pretty partial to Cafe Rosamond as well. Not least due to their baked beans and comely customers.

6. You know, when I first read your blog title all crammed together like that I thought it was 'There 'Tis, Just Commentary' and then I blinked and revised it to 'Theatre Is Just Commentary' and then eventually I figured it out. I am quite thick like that, particularly when underslept.

People of RYWHM - Avi's theatre blog is here. Beware her 'cool kid buzz'; I read about it in Time Out New York.

Anonymous said...
to Anon who said "I met someone once, an explosion, a volcano, a song, a poem, and the world folded like origami paper and there we were, two ends met to form a shape which stunned us both and was both frightening and disastrous, and soft, tender and real..." etc - that is quite the loveliest, most resonant piece of writing i've read in some time.

a semi-related question. ms fits, when one deeply desires another to the point of physical aching, finds him admirable above all others, has tried without success to stop desiring and admiring but has thus far kept such thoughts to herself because she is aware he's not over an unattainable past love and having him around in any form is better than the terrifying prospect of no him at all, are you one for honest declarations? would you tell the object of your desire how you felt? or silently carry a torch, watching him gallivant with other ladies but grateful for the fact he is at least still a friend, of sorts?

this has been troubling me for over a year, so i am more than capable of holding a candle. part of me thinks i should confess my true feelings, suffer the excruciating rejection and try to get on with my life despite the big him-shaped hole, because things now are somewhat artificial and i fear i may be allowing myself false hope by saying nothing. bear in mind i am a coward and generally think myself terribly undeserving of the objects of my affections. but especially him.

Oh, you sweet thing. 'Finds him admirable above all others'? That is so very Mr. Darcy it almost made me weep.

If it's been troubling you for over a year, I'd probably suggest a thorough emotional cleanse so you can pick yourself up and get on with things. Obviously sometimes it's nice pining for those frustratingly close to us as simply sitting next to them at the dinner table and inhaling the intoxicating Le Tan aroma of their skin when they reach over to pass the salt is just about the best torture there is outside of watching Never Mind The Buzzcocks and remembering with a start that Simon Amstell bats for the other team. Eventually this pattern of smiling and nodding like an Amish mute whenever the object of your affections breezily talks turkey about his many exciting new romances tends to wear the soul however, and though it is in many ways lovely to be in close contact with someone so deeply delicious they make your eyelashes sweat, if their attentions are elsewhere it's time to cut your losses and move on.

Do make the 'you know how I feel about you, right?' speech before you go - you never know what it may trigger in his tumultuous heart, and the concept of losing you might just right all his romantic wrongs.

Marmalade said...
Glutentag Fitsy,

It's hard when some random dumps on something that makes your pants go warm, so even though I don't like Pattern Recognition I am sorry to make all those good people leap to its defence.

But, God, The Road? I haven't read a new book in years (since Shaun Tan's The Arrival) that both front-up hit me and made me buzz for weeks after.

That father's love for his boy. And Old Man McCarthy dropping it at age 73: his voice, his use of language. When he describes the refugee's barrows as "heaped with shoddy", it made me nearly cry, he's that good.

I can only recommend its quality and justify its violence by comparing it to Pan's Labyrinth. People should experience both.

Um, sorry, no question. Just a fanboy rant, really.

That's quite alright, Marmalade. Each to their own, I suppose. I loved Pan's Labyrinth too - though I managed to make it through without wanting to scoop my eyeballs out and replace them with hot coal, which is more than I can say for The Road.

Anonymous said...
Have you read any Haruki Murakami? He is perfect.
If not, start with Sputnik Sweetheart. Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Kafka on the Shore, and Hard-boiled Wonderland are also lovely.

I've read A Wild Sheep Chase and found it a little difficult to befriend, though I had a drink with a very nice young man last week who insisted I keep at it as Murakami possesses a unique and perfect literary rhythm worth exploring.

Also, clearly being a Murakami fan gets you laid:

Anonymous said...
Want to date, Murakami fan? I could drink beer from tall cans and smoke Mild 7s while you arouse and confuse me, as the world outside slips through the cracks in the footpath, oblivious to the fact that it left us behind (with a bad-tempered golden cat that speaks Russian).

word verif: jhaps - response to online proposition based on mutual appreciation of a Japanese surrealist author.

Forget dating the Murakami fan, Anon. Date me. You have a certain way with words yourself, you know.

anonymous at 9.11 said...
"Want to date, Murakami fan? I could drink beer from tall cans and smoke Mild 7s while you arouse and confuse me, as the world outside slips through the cracks in the footpath, oblivious to the fact that it left us behind (with a bad-tempered golden cat that speaks Russian)."

Sure. As long as we can go to Tokyo and sit eating chicken salad in Denny's. The cat will end up eating our faces.

Clearly I am an unwelcome third wheel on this little tete a tete. Enjoy your flirtations, Murakami lovers. Invite us to the wedding, please.

*tips hat*

*meanders off into sunset*

elaine said...
I offer many apologies but have no regrets about your discovery of the marvels of facebook.

*offers vadge for punching*

x

I will curse you 'til the day I keel over, Wheelie. There was my life before Facebook, and now my days just stretch out in a dizzy blur of poking and food fights and zombies and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

*weeps*

sbr said...
Just wanted to say I'm glad someone else has pointed you to Kung Fu Monkey - I've been struck for a while by the similar preoccupations (in that he alternates between talking about screenwriting and some really good political posts). Some of his posts are mini-classics of political blogging, eg his "Lions Led by Donkeys" (http://tinyurl.com/o2tla) and others like this: http://tinyurl.com/s7odu . You also have to respect that he actually blogs for charity: in the past he's put links up to make donations for various causes, and then he matches dollar for dollar whatever his readers donate. Can you believe this is the same guy who wrote the Halle Berry "Catwoman"?

It's good to know one Hollywood blockbuster disaster doesn't affect a blogger's ability to dust themselves off and entertain the masses via the internet, sbr. Hopefully you'll all still remain on speaking terms with me after I pen the latest Dakota Fanning 'vehicle'.

Anonymous said...
what do you think of perez hilton?
please set me up with travis cotton.
merci.

1. He doesn't quite pull off overalls as a fashion statement, to be honest. Also I'm afraid I'm yet to fully comprehend the whole 'drawing on a photograph' thing he's got going on. Presumably it will all fall into place for me eventually, like those richly comedic O RLY pictures I'm yet to get enough of.

2. Sure, no problem. What would you like to do on your first date? You'd better be funny or he may lose interest rather rapidly.

Simon said...
@ Anon 12:07-
Alcohol is your friend, hell, my friend too. Get bombed and hug him a lot more warmly than necessary... look for the reaction- Does he snuggle you back? You'll have an |out| if required (OMFG, I'm so droonk etc).

Question: Have you purchased from Amazon? What think you of the recommendation system, and "others also bought..." Does this help or just narrow us? I've thought of a world that was optimized for me and my kind, but I'm almost certain it would end in tears, and most likely, blood.

I also have a sensitive inquiry about rooting around whilst in a relationship.
Do you believe it's okay to have secret filthy sex with unattractive strangers that are the opposite to your partner? Is it worth explaining to my wonderful girlfriend that I have these- occasional, but pretty much integral- urges, or should I just make both of us miserable with honesty?
I don't know how to explain fucking to a girl.

I have purchased from Amazon, and absolutely love the 'Like that? Try this!' button informing me of my peers' esteemed choices. Aside from a devastatingly handsome romantic interest recommending a literary diversion for you, what better way to learn of new and exciting novels?

As for your second controversial question...you seem to have raised the ire of fellow commenters somewhat:

Anonymous said...
Simon - you don't know how to explain "fucking" to girls?

Let me explain something to you, fucko. Wanting to have sex with people other than your beloved is not exclusively a male dillema.

Your girlfriend undoubtedly has the odd "what if" pang about male friends and colleagues. We all do - but that's a sacrifice you make when you care about someone*. People are rarely monogamous because they don't WANT to sleep with others, they're monogamous because they don't want to hurt someone they love.

You just sound like you don't love her enough. You're probably just too needy to admit it to her and to yourself, so you couch it in terms of "integral urges".

Grown some balls.

*Obvs. it's different in open relatioships. Respect.

Yeah, I'll raise my hand and own up to the 'what if' pangs about male friends and colleagues when in a relationship. Although often I'm convinced I inhabit the mindset of a fourteen-year-old boy, so I shouldn't necessarily be trusted to speak on behalf of womankind.

Also:

Anonymous said...
Simon, you sound like a first rate wanker, its a wonder anyone would want to have sex with you even if they are "unattractive strangers" who are no doubt as desperate and sad as you.
If you had any decency you would be honest with your girlfriend but like someone has pointed out you probably don't lover her enough, you certainly don't respect her enough to tell her the truth.

You might cause her some short term heartache but she'll be better off knowing what is really happening. I suspect the real reason you haven't told her is not to spare her feelings but because you don't want to deal with the fall out. How very noble of you, you really are a dickhead of the highest order. Hope that helps.

I hope you all appreciate how gentle and beatific I am in my general answering of questions here, people. Have I ever used the phrase 'You are really a dickhead of the highest order. Hope that helps' to guide some faceless commenter towards the path of goodness? I AM PRACTICALLY A SAINT.

Simon responds:

Simon said...
Dear Anonymi (Anonymouses? Who gives a shit?)

Thank- no, up yours for the responses, which say more about yourselves than me.
But I should clarify the question- I've come close, but I have NEVER cheated on my partner.
And this is not a passing urge to lick the woman who sells me my weekly zone 1 concession, I'm thinking about that extra 10% sex, being beaten, shat on, tied up in soft materials and suffocated. I need this, but couldn't take it from the girlfriend- perhaps this means I don't love her enough, but would you break up with your best friend/lover/confidant for failing to be as sordid as your hangups?

Would you rather know or not, that your partner had some unconventional predilections that you couldn't satisfy?
Would you prefer that they broke up with you rather than embarrass you with the knowledge?

(And the gf is cute, petite and scary-bright. She could do a lot better but doesn't, so don't see her as a victim)

Okay, so what you're saying is that you want to be beaten up and suffocated by a sex partner you don't eat takeaway with? Fair enough, I suppose. Though I'm not sure how I'd feel if my life partner turned to me one day and said 'You do realise my kink for enemas means we can no longer date'. Would I not want to be given the chance to bravely don the rubber gloves and join them on their journey? If I loved someone enough, I'd certainly be game to try anything at least once. And I'd definitely hope they felt close enough to me to share their darkest of thoughts. Is it not the only way forward for an open, honest relationship between two devious perverts?

Plus:

Anonymous said...
dear simon. folk seem to shit on you enough here. keep posting and you'll meet your 10% quota and then some.

ZING.

Anonymous said...
Tee hee anon!

But seriously, Simon, maybe try to introduce a bit of it with your gf. Tying people up aint that kinky - she may go for it. You may find some way of accommodating your fetishes; even if she won't shit on you maybe you could get her to integrate it into her dirty talk. Who knows.

Lovely advice indeed, Anon. Who knew fecal sex games could ever sound so charming and Dr. Cindy Pan. Group hugs all round.

The Last Scientician said...
I know you probably hate questions like this, but as you are an easily accessible source, I'm gonna ask anyway.

Do you know if the ABC series The Yarns of Billy Borker is available in any format? My dad mentioned it the other day, and I'm curious to see what it's like. Apparently it was very popular when it aired.

I have absolutely no idea, TLS. Though I don't at all mind you asking. That's what this forum is for, is it not? That and random abuse metered out to those hapless souls putting their hearts on the line. Good times.

Jess said...
To combine two things mentioned in this post and associated comments and make them one whole statement about me...

The Yarns of Billy Borker + 'This book made me the way I am'

I still find it amusing that I was suitably impressed the PWG thing when we met, but absolutely shat myself with giddy excitement when I realised it was yer grandfather who penned my beloved childhood favourite The Yarns Of Billy Borker.

(pokes)

x

PS: Timpano is fucking ace, with hair to rival Winehouse and a penchant for white wine which makes my heart sing. I know you'll speak appropriately fawningly of her, Fits.

What's with all you folk and the Billy Borker obsession? Why weren't you outside shimmying up trees and playing conkers like all the other little scallywag orphan children?

zzymurgy said...
Dear Ms Fits

1. I can see that you're a frequenter of fine interwebs establishments such as myspace and facebook. Two questions about that, both of them are WHY?
I don't understand young people these days with their lolz and brbz and hiyaz. It all seems like a popularity contest to me, and I think if you really want to be popular, you should try winning an election or two. Not necessarily the Federal election, mind you, but Councils love young people (i'm a councillor myself and it's terribly patronising), not to mention the local RSL maybe or even Critical Mass, why not a knitting club? The point is, popularity is so much more rewarding when it is amongst real people. You don't really need John Butler as your 'friend'.

2. The celebrity impersonator known as Ms Fit has reappeared in my life. She now runs essentialadelaide.blog.com and writes for Rip It Up. Although admittedly her name makes more sense to me than yours, can I ask are you considering legal action? I'm sure your 'legal team' would love to sink their teeth into that one.
Or perhaps every Australian city has a Ms/Mrs/Mr Fit(s), their witty banter on the state of society/books/local events/relationship counselling inspiring young people all over their respective home town.

3. Not sure if you've noticed, but e-tax this year won't recognise same-sex couples. This makes me want to declare myself the opposite sex on this year's tax return, just to see whether I will receive an awkwardly worded letter back on an Australian Government letterhead.

4. My word verification today was ycoeeeep. I think this sounds like a country singer being suddenly bitten on the backside.

5. What issue of Picture?

Or have we already seen the important bit?

1. I mostly use myspace and Facebook to prey on boys I like in real life and post innuendo-laden messages on the pages of my closest friends to give them the irrits. Thankfully I'm very far from friends with John 'Sista, Sista, why can't you see/That I'm a part of you/And you're a part of me' Butler either on the interwebs or in real life, which no doubt is a relief to us both. I do understand your frustrations with the MAKE ME YOUR TOP 8 FRIEND OR LOSE ME FOREVER-type social interactions amongst the young folk but it's essentially harmless and at least it keeps them off the streets, etc. Let your hair down and allow us kids our downtime.

2. I'm not going to sue Ms Fit for having the same passing fancy for a stupid internet name as me, though you can be certain if we're both in Adelaide at the same time WE WILL BE MEETING FOR A WWF SMACKDOWN FROM WHICH THERE WILL EMERGE BUT ONE OILY VICTOR.

3. I had no idea e-tax wasn't recognising same-sex couples. This makes me want to declare myself wholly sodden with lesbonitis and shack up with a ladyfriend just to buck the system. Any available RYWHM fillies keen?

4. I really must start collecting these. You fuckers are funny as hell.

5. Kylie Minogue and her 'choozies' are on the cover somewhere. That's really all you need to know for now.

And what do you mean, 'important bit'? Are you referring to my veedge? Cheeky.

W said...
Hi Ms. Fits, I just got off the plane from Melbourne, and sad interweb geek that I am had to come straight home and tell you that your segment for Lonely Planet on Canberra was part of my inflight entertainment.

Thanks you for cheering me up after a long, dark night of the soul type day. (I know that makes no sense - trust me, I'm doing well to be upright)

My question is: How does one get a gig for the Lonely Planet?

P.S You are just about the cutest thing ever.

Oh my god. I was on a fucking plane flying back from Sydney yesterday and IT WAS ON THE TELEVISION WITH NO WARNING.

There is little more surreal in life than sitting on a crowded plane trying to ignore the fact that you are on tv making an idiot of yourself and jumping up and down in front of a Welcome to Canberra sign. I hid behind Rolling Stone for the better part of half an hour. Incredibly odd.

Anyway, the LP thing came about because I did some writing work for the producer last year and we got along reasonably well so he suggested me for the cities segment. Lord knows what it will lead to. I am the next Ernie Dingo, obviously.

Ben said...
Hello dear.

1. Are you really the cutest thing ever, or is this?

Awkward segue, no? Rather shameless of me, I apologise.

You are very cute, mind.

2. Did you get an uninteresting email from me inviting you to a thing? If so, I apologise again, it was inadvertently sent unintentionally by accident. If you got any other emails from me, I must have had one of my blackouts.

3. I also do not know how to explain fucking to a girl. Do you think it would be appropriate to use zany cartoons? Or possibly poseable action figures?

4. *desperate sweaty career-chaser* How did you first get on to RRR? /desperate sweaty career-chaser

5. Oops, spoke too soon. *DSCC* I read what you wrote about Channel 31. Most interesting. I've been thinking about going on Channel 31. You have to watch me if I do. OK? /DSCC

I wussed out of submitting my Deveny-related article. I do that a lot with my opinions. It's why I'm an enigma.

I work nights. So I interact with such blogs as yours while you, the author sleeps. It's sort of like the movie Ladyhawke. But instead of turning into a hawk and a wolf, we turn into a blog, and a very tired person. So you are Michelle Pfeiffer and I am Rutger Hauer. But unlike Rutger Hauer, I am not an evil robot.

It's not very like the movie Ladyhawke really, but there's very little romance on the night shift.

It's more like the movie Condorman. I spend the time surfing the net and reading blogs in a mild-mannered way, but in secret I put on wings and steal Oliver Reed's girlfriend.

They had a Concert for Diana tonight, but I don't think she heard much of it.

Bye for now, I'll try harder next time.

PS thanks to you I have hurled myself into the Facebook vortex. We shall see how this unfolds.

1. Your son is way cuter than me. May I point out that you appear to have lolcatted your child. I will be alerting the relevant authorities immediately.

2. I don't think so, though I have received an email from you before. Again, I apologise to anyone trying to chase me up via RYWHM gmail - the scant attention I pay that poor account is criminal, it really is.

3. Yeah, I can't think of anything more adorable than sitting in front of some serious-faced young insect while he mashes a Bratz doll up against a GI Joe and tells me 'This is how we 'git', woman' in a hot, breathy voice. Neil Strauss has a lot to learn, clearly.

4. I did the production course at Triple R twelve years ago and was unceremoniously shoved into a vox-pop team with Glenny G and Pauly P and the rest, as they say, etc. We spent a couple of years doing graveyards before they allowed us on the grid and so far they've been unable to resist our charms for long enough to boot us off. Joke's on them, and so on.

5. I promise to watch you if you ever appear on channel 31, yes.

FreeHugsTommy said...
Hello there Fits! I was watching The Nation tonight, and just prior to flipping over to watch you and the team on the Book Club (including Margret Fulton and her scones) they launched a new segment called Secret Womens Business with Amanda Keller and Fiona O'Laughlin. I have a strong suspicion that the producers took on board your criticism that there was a lack of intelligent, funny women on the show. Are you planning to take credit for this new addition to the show? And, if so, what other suggestions are you going to make to the people at channel 9, as they clearly need help at the moment?

Why, yes. Yes, I do take complete and total credit for any minor or major format changes to Mick Molloy's television show. It was my idea to move him to 10:30 on a Wednesday evening, you know. I also instructed him to break up with Sophie Lee. THE MAN IS MY PUPPET.

If those in charge at channel 9 are keen to take more of my wise and sage advice I'd suggest they throw money at a streetwise pigtailed ne'er-do-well writer and instruct her to 'go to town - we trust your creative urges implicitly. p.s. Would it help if Johnny Knoxville was sent along as your naked PA? All good at this end if it's a yes'.

Easily Confused said...
Hello Ms Fits,

What do you think of the Working Dog gang? Frontline was great, I loved The Dish. Now I can't stand the sight of any of the Working Dogs.

Tom Gleisner's and Rob Sitch's smug unfunniness on The Panel made me want to poke my eyeballs out. Thank God You're Here ads make me quickly change the channel.

Dylan Moran picking his nose and examining his findings are funnier than seasons worth of TGYH.

Aaaah! That fucking blue door and the cheeseball host!

It really is a tough one, as I was obsessive - obsessive - about The Late Show as a teenager and wanted to make a permanent home for myself inside Rob Sitch's trousers for about three years so it's difficult to view him entirely objectively as a po-faced adult. Obviously the Working Dog team have grown up and mellowed out and decided to 'speak' to the 'masses' via the magic of theatre sports and it seems to be working for them, so more power etc. I'm not terribly offended by TGYH as it occasionally showcases the talents of the incredibly handsome Hamish Blake and Shaun Micallef who I'm both a bit in love with, so there you are.

Anonymous said...
How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?

Three. Straight down Wellington, right into Keele and then first left.

manofthecrowd said...
Hello Ms F, last year I went to Amsterdam and ended up getting lost, really lost: for a while I thought I was dead but then realised it was more likely that I was in a coma. Anyway things started to become a bit more grounded because I asked myself if this was a coma why would everything unfold with such clarity and minute detail and there are things that I don’t think I could render/imagine myself but ever since then I’ve been trapped in an ambivalence about whether this is real or not. A number of times since then I've totally freaked out and thought I was back there and also felt like I was turning to liquid and it was really hard to distinguish where the pavement ended and my feet started and generally had what everyone calls 'panic attacks'.

My question is do you think it’s a coincidence that since then the first TV show I saw was the last season of the Sopranos (Tony’s coma scenes, where there are keys/clues/pointers/signs etc for getting his way out), then someone told me the ending of Lost is that all the people are dead (I don’t watch that show but I know enough about it), then there’s that Life on Mars show that’s just started on the ABC and even Stranger than Fiction has some resonances to how I feel at times – can you tell me?

Lord, manofthecrowd. My first advice would be to stop smoking pot immediately, if you haven't done so already. You sound as though you're in a somewhat vulnerable mental state and the last thing you need is to be addling your brain with further conspiracies and spooky television shows. Yes, it is an utter coincidence that these series are weirding your dear fragile mind - pay them absolutely no attention. You are not dead, nor are you in a coma. Have you considered taking up a hobby? Reiki or Tai Chi might be nice.

Rustique said...
Gi-day Feets,

RRR question: doest thou knowst how often yon station updates ye olde play lists?

On Australian Mood last night I heard a song with the chorus that went something like:

"Oh Lord let the bells ring,
The hard little man who is hollow within,
Something, something, something,
On the Road to nowhere with the master of spin"

And me wants to know who sings it and that. Can anyone enlighten me to save me having to find out myself? Also I seemed to think it was about the desicated coconut himself (early on I though it may have been Warney). Can anyone yea or nay that?

Snickety snick with back flip trick y'all.

I actually called up Triple R to find this out for you, and while they didn't have the logsheets at hand I've been told if you go to the website and follow the 'on air' links to Australian Mood, there should be a playlist waiting expectantly for you to arrive. Failing that you could just give Neil a call - he's a very nice man and would probably be glad to help.

Anonymous said...
Are you into the Beth Ditto? Should I be disturbed that New Weekly is now leading me to new music? Last week it was Ms Amy Winehouse.

I like the look of her, though I can't say I'm overly familiar with her music. So far NW has taught me that she eats squirrels, which certainly enhances any future audio experiences we're yet to have together. Don't be afraid of New Weekly's foray into young people's music, Anon - guidance can really come from anywhere and is not to be sniffed at simply because it's sourced by women who talk too much about shoes and Carmen Electra's hair.

Ben said...
Q&A Update: I'm on the radio on Sunday morning around 11:30 with Helen Razer, 774 AM in Melbourne, or http://www.abc.net.au/melbourne to listen online.

Since this IS Q&A, my question is: wouldn't it be great to listen to the ABC on Sunday around 11:30?

Word verification: ncylyla - the sound of a five-year-old taunting his foes while simultaneously suffering a severe allergic reaction.

It most certainly would. I may be away at the beach but I'll do my best to tune in. Say hi to Helen for me.

/plug.

Zealous K-M said...
Dear Ms Fits

I was wondering what your experience of high school was like, and also, did you have any great teachers?

I am a high school teacher in a lovely school in the Northern suburbs and often wonder if I am helping my students (some of whom are brilliant and will go on to achieve great things, irrespective of the 5 periods a week they spend with me) learn anything at all, or if, like me (and, I imagine, you) they would be better left to themselves to read and play music and do whatever makes them feel clever. Obviously this only works with the kids that can actually read and write already.

Thanks Fits, you're a marvel.

For the most part I hated high school because I was an insufferable show-offy child actor who had to take time off for filming and was duly tormented by the masses upon return. Obviously when I reached the age of fifteen and realised I could do WHATEVER I WANT AND NO-ONE WOULD STOP ME I ceased giving a shit that Christie Mackay and Leanne Boucher were having a crack and simply ran away from home to play hooky with The Sharp. Good times.

I had a couple of great teachers, particularly at Swinburne High - my literature teacher Michael Walsh was a marvel, and a huge inspiration. God knows we tested his patience, particularly given more than half the class was living out of home and taking copious amounts of speed. Even with a room full of sweaty gurning teenagers with pompous loud voices he was quiet and generous and interesting and wonderful. You just keep on shaping those young minds, Zealous.

Anonymous said...
fitsarooney,

is there anything better than a late night cup of tea accompanied with a McVities digestive biscuit?

sorry to go all sunday life on you but what are the ten essential foodstuffs every kitchen must have?

cheers.

What about a whisky accompanied by a heavy petting session with a redhead on fresh sheets, Anon? It's good for what ails ye.

Anyway, you're throwing me with the 'ten essential foodstuffs' as I live like an eternal Lethlean and rarely cook so I'll have to wager a few guesses and hope I'm somewhere in the ballpark of normal and you won't judge me my foibles.

1. Tins of tuna/sardines/anchovies.

They're just good on toast and in pasta sauces. That's all.

2. Dog food.

a) Feeds dog.

b) Feeds human if desperate.

3. Organic dark chocolate.

Gabi switched me onto this and it's ruining my life in the most magnificent of ways. Also you feel very European and devil-may-care when eating it on a rainy afternoon.

4. Wine.

Any type, so long as it ain't cheap and nasty and smelling like paintstripper.

5. Ryvitas.

The ones with all the grains in them. Not 'sandwich size'; they're just silly and embarrassing for everyone.

6. Mersey Valley Cheddar.

If people don't like this then God hates them. It's in the Bible.

7. Organic miso soup in packets.

This saves my fucking hide if I'm starving during the day and can't get out to forage for food. Sad but true.

8. Hommus.

5 million Greeks can't be wrong, etc.

9. Fruit.

That's right, all of it. I don't care if I'm bending the rules. Apples, bananas, kiwifruit, grapes. THEY EXIST UNDER AN UMBRELLA SUB-HEADING.

10. Ice-cream.

I don't mind what kind, so long as it's ridiculously sweet and makes you epileptic if you go without it for too long.

Wait, were you asking me about pantry staples for cooking? You're really barking up the wrong tree there, clearly. I am like Tom Hanks in Bachelor Party but with less topless nuns and donkeys.

****************************

That's quite enough out of me for one Friday. I must away to the beach with Gabi and Gen and the beans with a head full of mix tapes and Castlemaine Blue Light discos and beloved Singles Lounges.

Leave your questions for next week in the comments below and let's try to get through these next couple of months relatively unscathed, shall we? Thank you for playing, friends.

131 days til the next election.

The right way.

2007-07-05T09:48:00.000+10:00

Getting a political message across, then:

'For All, etc!'

Getting a political message across, now:

Sweet baby Jesus. When did having a political conscience suddenly get so hot?

*joins Friends Of The Earth*

*purchases snug-fitting protest bikini*

*stalks Josh Brown*

132 days til the next election.

I was broke, I needed the money.

2007-07-04T08:35:00.001+10:00

A couple of weeks ago I was walking along a second-hand beachside strip with my mother, who dragged me with some insistency into an archaic-looking op shop to buy more useless crap we'll never use. She was on the hunt for old wool (I try not to ask what she needs these things for) and I kicked around looking at old polka records and pyjamas while she worked her way through a pile of boxes.

Then I heard an audible gasp from the back of the store.

Mum: Oh my god.

Me: What now?

Mum: That's you.

Me: What?

Mum: That's you.

Me: ...if this is that picture of an orangutan doing a wee in its own mouth again I'm going to be mightily irritated.

Mum: No, really. Look.

I turned around to see her holding up an old Paton's knitting pattern book.

And she was right. It really was fucking me.

Just loungin' in a cream cableknit with some of my 'peeps'. Note ladylike pose.

I still sit like this, interestingly. No wonder I meet so many nice men.

One or more of these women would grow up to receive a nipple cripple at the hands of porn star Ron Jeremy. The future looks bright, people.

Focused on the business at a young age.

Or, as my friend Hotman so delicately puts it: 'I particulary like your checking out the "tent in his pants" in this one'.

And she's up!

I don't know whether it's pleasing or frightening to know that I still dress pretty much exactly the same as I did when I was two years old. My legs no longer resemble cocktail frankfurts in party mode though, thankfully.

133 days til the next election.

What's up, robot?

2007-07-03T08:30:00.000+10:00

I'm in Sydney and somewhat snowed under with meetings as I am quite important, so today will be brief but fulfilling.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Andrew Thompson's 'We're In Business'.

I mostly like the part where he's pointing at himself in the mirror as if to remind himself not to 'go there' again. Please note: this is a sweet You Tube link to send someone if you're trying to get their attention.

134 days til the next election.

Friday q and a #76.

2007-06-29T08:02:00.000+10:00

It's been a surprisingly lovely week, full of high quality food and odd encounters with deck-building spunks at local cafes (more on that frankly bemusing situation another time).

July holds a great deal of travel for me - reluctantly away from precious Bike babies and breakfasting champions - and I will endeavour to make regular visits to this here blog. At the very least I'll do my best to maintain the incessant pace of Friday questions as I am hopelessly devoted to finding answers for you...

epon_anon said...
I enjoyed Written on the Body but after reading a few interviews with Winterson I've gone off her a bit. Friday question: have you read much Ben Okri?

Nope. Should I? I'm currently sneaking in a book of my own before the weighty book show tomes come calling. It's JD Salinger's Franny and Zooey and I'm reading it because my wild friend Lorelei (from the sadly departed Young Professionals) once grabbed me by the arm and announced with fierce passion 'This book made me the way I am' and she's eight parts brilliantly fruity so I've taken it upon myself to study her recommendation with sombre devotion. It's fucking wonderful so far. He really does have a way with words, the shy retiring fox.

la nadine said...
hi,

um...really i just liked the idea of being the first to ask a question one week. i didn't plan so far ahead as to actually thinking of a question to ask.

so...do you, like, think i could maybe get to second base on our next date?

x

I don't see why not. I'm due for a long and involved petting session, to be perfectly honest with you.

Cath said...
Ola Ms Gorgeous Fits

I have been meaning to slash at you in a rage of jealousy for your proximity to the divine Mr Grant..... but no matter - kiss kiss - all is forgiven?

Mr Perseus - I am shocked at your difficulties.... I am in my mid-30's (a generic age if ever there was one), and EVERY man I meet of this age assumes you want to run off and have babies - and therefore they are all running scared of me.

Or are they scared for other reasons?? hmm.

I wouldn't mind babies, but am not sure if I could stand the squalling night and day - mayhaps you are the man for me?

Ms Fits - surely you can facilitate this match made in heaven?

RYWHM Community Babyboard? Oh my.

I'm wary of those men who automatically assume every lady over the age of 30 is busting a nut to be upduffed, Cath. I feel I still have a couple of years of ill-advised carousing to participate in before I allow some broad-shouldered lovely to impregnate me and teach me how to garden. Perhaps you're right, perhaps there's something mortally wrong with us and gentlemen are simply using the excuse 'BUT I CAN SENSE YOU CRAVE MOTHERHOOD' to dodge our affection bullets. In any case, the combination of you and the offspring-seeking Perseus may be a heavenly thing. Go through the usual motions and email me and we'll just see what kind of sperm donation telethon we can rustle up.

He seems keen, anyway:

Perseus said...
Ms Fits.

We have in fact met before. You interviewed me once on RRR, and a friend accompanying me to RRR said to me at the time, "She's cute - ask her on a date" to which I replied, "She's married, and I'm engaged".

Besides, we have a few mutual friends and they speak glowingly of you. I hope they speak glowingly of me, but I doubt they'd use the name 'Perseus'.

So, because I think sending you a mixed tape is a bit creepy, instead, can you allow RYWHM to go all RSVP for a few moments and set me up on a date with 'Cath' (see above)?

(Word verification is "Koxopper", which, with any luck, my next date might be...)

I take it you are no longer engaged then, Perseus. At least I'd hope not, since you're pursuing the art of koxopping with somewhat fevered intent.

You heard the man, Cath. Send your details my way and in nine months we'll hopefully all be hearing the pitter-patter of tiny blogger feet.

p.s. Your friends have impeccable taste. I am a bastion of goodness.

The Last Scientician said...
I'm thinking of giving it all up. Should I give it all up? It's giving me the shits, lately.

Of course you shouldn't give it all up, TLS. Not now, not ever. Even in the darkest moments you need to give yourself something to look forward to, whether it be hot apple and sultana porridge in a warm kitchen on a rainy morning (this has been blowing my mind over the past week as I am quite easily won over), or a exotic drink with some enormously brilliant ha-ha man, or the new issue of Q magazine - anything. Just so it gets you through the swampy emotional disarray and through to johnny goodtimes. It ain't that difficult a mantra, really.

Additionally:

Hellglitter said...
Oh, a response to Last Scientician about giving it all up.
Don't do it.
Just give up the bits you don't like and keep the rest.
Like us f'rinstance.
Cheers

* waves *

Well put, Hellglitter. Indeed, we should all of us be shunting the irritating bits and focussing on a better tomorrow. Like Scientologists, but without the silent birthing and stuff.

thr said...
Greetings etc...

Following the marvelously lovely and funny Sarah Silverman link, I thought I would see what you thought of this appallingly funny woman?

yes. as you were.

Tom

Jesus christ. She's astoundingly wrong. Anyone who uses the term 'beating your dick like an Iraqi prisoner' is pretty much putting themselves out there as an anti-PC comic. How does she get away with such wild banter? She's like Sarah Silverman with PMS.

Anonymous said...
Miss Fits,

I hope you're well. I have a tale and would be honoured if you would be so kind as to share your thoughts.

I met someone once, an explosion, a volcano, a song, a poem, and the world folded like origami paper and there we were, two ends met to form a shape which stunned us both and was both frightening and disastrous, and soft, tender and real. Real being as frightening as not. Some of the time.

Time passed and life stretched us to breaking point until it was obvious that the best thing was the worst thing and we have not been in contact for some time. A fair result for shared despair.

And yet, there is not a single day goes by that they do not appear to me in some form, be it a gloomy d'oh and furrowed pfft, or a garrulous giggle to myself at an imagined memory. It's a nice enough way to hold a candle, inside, to light the recesses of yourself when you're in the dark.

But what if you find it getting in the way? How to exorcise properly, completely, a feeling toward a partner which can not be pursued, for your own peace of mind, but is sufficient to keep you awake at nights in a cold, empty dizzy?

I've covorted, chased and galivanted since. I've thrown myself into meaningless relationships with members of both sex, hilarious and revealing, I've travelled overseas, written a diary, loved another, lusted - a lot. I've done everything except find God, and tell my other. And I'm still haunted by a spectre from my past.

Which of course, leaves your incredibly incisive and "why didn't I think of that" advice.

Thanks for your time, I figured here's a good a place as any to seek an answer.

Alas Anon, I fear I am not the right person to come to for advice in a matter such as this. I am mawkishly sentimental about past swains and connections and spend far too much time gazing out of windows and wondering what the Great Loves are up to and if they ever think of me fondly and if they were to knock on my door at certain times of the evening would I simply give up my entire life to re-explore the once punchdrunk passion we shared or would I know better etc. What are the reasons you and your maddening inamorato called it a day? Were you 'at' each other with knives and forks? Did it end in a mutual slice and dice gorefest? Gracious.

I have been forced to sadly part ways with those who caused me spiritually regressive grief (as I no doubt in turn caused them) and though there have been many temptations to clamber aboard the good ship fallback I have for the most part resisted urges and pressed on with my life. I don't really know how to advise you in terms of banishing that troublesome muse from the recesses of your mind outside of Hatha yoga and Radox baths and many many Dirty Three records. Best of luck, my friend. Many finger-squeezes to you.

Anonymous said...
Is it true that you drank Robby Buck under the table?

If you mean was I still standing at the end of the night while he spoke in hieroglyphics and lavishly spread the contents of his bag around the pub floor, then yes. I can safely say that I did.

OptimusPrIme said...
Ms. Fits, does your nickname have anything to do with Robbie Coltrane's title character from the series 'cracker'?

Have you finished reading 'arry Potter yet?

What's your take on the latest Aboriginal health/welfare band aid ball-burster from Howard Johnny and the fuckstar party? What say you of labo(u)r's lack of opposition?

The Australian people pay him to OPPOSE things damnit.

I would like to use this opportunity to quietly suggest that Captain Feathersword could drop a FART with more emotional and intellectual resonance than anything thus presented from our so-called political representatives.

FUCKING RAWWWWWWWWWR!

1. No, but that series is complete genius. Worth watching again on DVD.

2. Finished? I haven't started. Life's far too short.

3. I think it's a fucking crock, and all for show. What worries me most is reading about the lack of back-up plan the government's put in place. There's no programs set up for why the fuck so many people in communities are turning to alcohol to blot out the sky, or what to do with the presumably rosy-cheeked rehabilitated drunks when they skip merrily out of their camps and back into the real world where alcohol's freely available. It's bullshit half-measures and completely sickening. I don't know what the answer is, but this ain't it.

I'm worried about Kevin's response so far. Am awaiting further information before I turn up on his doorstep shouting and waving a Bamix aggressively.

Anonymous said...
Because I'm feeling sick and gross and stuck at home studying for stupid Uni exams on a Friday night I thought I'd comment and ask a question to entertain myself.

1. Love you on the book club, it led me to your blog which led me to find out that I am not alone in my Reucassel love. Thanks for the comraderie. Then I was channel flicking and saw you in Canberra on SBS. Then on the Chaser.

Then today, I was listening to Triple J with Robbie Buck and YOU SCORED A MENTION there too.
Evidently you can drink Chris Taylor and Robbie under the table. (Chris Taylor, hey, obviously moving on to a Single Chaser from Craig. I think you should go for it. Those checked shirts are pretty hot.)

So just letting you know that you are currently taking over all the public broadcasters and the internet and I can't look without you being on a new medium.

Which is great, cos the more you appear on every station the less we see of people like Paris Hilton so keep it up.

This media saturation thing is a bit irritating. If I keep going in the direction of Paris Hilton I'll end up with jail time and a lovely new hairdo, though I suppose it's about as much as one could ask for in a junior McMurdoch career. Should I take time off to climb a mountain and read to amputee children do you think? It could work quite well for boosting my profile and making me appear like a caring and generous individual despite the fact that I am small-minded and mean and loathe humanity.

Sarah said...
Hi Ms Fits,

I have no idea how my blog ended up as a question on your blog, but thank you for not being captious towards my writings. No one likes to read bad stuff about them in teh Intarwebs. So thank you for handling that with dignity and grace.

Oh, not at all. It's nice to see fellow lady scribers tiptoeing around the dating circuit - though it would appear you're on the edge of becoming 'one of them'. Never mind, I'll take care of the remaining single boys around town on behalf of both of us.

A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sarah.

*bows*

Anonymous said...
1) have you ever slept with anyone famous ?
2)do you like martin scorsese ?
3) bob brown or kevin rudd ?
4) john howard intervening in aborigine communitys ? yay or nay ?
5)http://kucinich.us/
Kucinich for President !

1) That depends on your definition of famous, Anon. I've never blown Jared Leto if that's what you're asking, though I've had ex lovers appear in the Herald Sun social pages.

2) Yes. I thought The Departed was spectacular. I'm also a fan of The Last Waltz obviously, as it combines music, handsome men, and irresponsible drug usage.

3) As dinner guests? Hip-hop superstars? Lovers? I'd go Bob all three, though he'd probably be less likely to capitulate to my charms were we to explore the latter.

4) Nay. See above.

5) 'Our Patriots for Peace campaign expresses how true patriotism supports peace'? Damn. The man's got my vote.

Anonymous said...
Is Sunday going to be your first community cup?

This renewed love of footy hasn't been sparked by your rumoured dalliance with a football journalist? I recall reading a couple of weeks ago about you being spotted with a footy journo and someone suggesting Mark Robinson. Please clarify Ms Fits.

No, I've been to quite a few Community Cups - though I've only been team runner for two years. I think it's my official job now.

Also: You do realise I have no idea which football journalist I'm supposed to have shacked up with? Someone left a comment a couple of weeks ago suggesting I'd been 'spotted' making eyes at a strapping member of the sporting press and then disappeared off the face of the earth when I dared ask who the devil they were referring to.

I'm honestly not trying to be elusive. I can't recall dating any journalist, football or otherwise, in the past six months. More details, please.

p.s. I have always loved football. It is in my blood. Don't hate me because I don't have a team.

Jaffe said...
You made it into someone's special dinner list. oh dear.

Good gravy. Along with HR Giger, Henrik Nordvargr Bjorkk and Stephen Hawking, no less. I suppose if conversation dried up we could all just stand around admiring Timothy Leary's sawn-off head in its little portable refrigerator. Although it might be awkward if someone accidentally stashes their UDL's inside.

Josh Dare said...
Fits-o-rama!

Mid-term reader, first time blogger over here, after much deliberation.

I do actually have a bona fide question for you, which may excite you. Two, in fact.

1) Do you know how hard it is not to mimic your writing style when posting a comment here? Surely you've picked up on the parroting by now. It's a compliment at the end of the day; your little sing song method of writing is terribly infectious.

See, there I go again.

2) OMG I BLOG TWO. Seriously, I just started a blog (http://blog.joshdare.com). I'm altoghether too writer-y about the whole shebang tho: I get all 'tarded when trying to think of entries and stuff because I've got no idea who my target audience is (frankly, a lot of the time I think there is no audience) and I've got no central question to address coz it's bleeting on about nothing. As a grand mama of blogging, do you have any tips?

Cheers in advance! Loving your work in Green Guide / Frankie / quick skit on Chaser's :)

Hello Josh Dare, and welcome to the blogosphere.

*smashes champagne bottle against laptop*

To the questions:

1) I know that when reading a particular writer I inevitably end up attempting to sound exactly like them which is good when it's an insufferably verbose twat like Martin Amis and not so good when ploughing through three volumes of Adrian Mole's diaries. I don't mind if people borrow my retardedly lengthy sentences and distinct thumbing of nose at grammatical guidelines. Let us mock the system together.

2) I get what you're saying - my earliest blog entries veer wildly when it comes to style, and even when people started reading/commenting I wasn't sure whether to write to please them or write to please myself. In the end I guess you need to just keep plugging away and honing your craft - since part of the infuriating joy of blogging is being forced to wake up every day and find something mildly diverting to write about - and eventually curious onlookers will drop by and tell you you're a misinformed ass with body odour problems and to go fuck yourself and you'll know you've made it. As for 'bleating on about nothing' - this is essentially the heart of blogging. You've got it mastered, grasshopper.

Anonymous said...
Fits,

http://kfmonkey.blogspot.com/2007/06/irrational-fear-irrational.html

I enjoyed the zombie line.

Thoughts?

Yeah, it's some pretty fucking funny writing. I like this bit:

'...if I'd gotten on that ride, my friends would have actually heard me scream. Like a little girl. Like a little girl who just woke up because somebody licked her foot. Like a little girl who just woke up because somebody licked her foot, and then when she turns on the light there's an evil clown sitting in the middle of her bedroom, eating her pony.'

Heh. Pity he's married.

FreeHugsTommy said...
Hello you adorable Fits you. I have again been perusing the excitable world that is reality television (i do love it) and again felt like asking you a question.
Did you watch the premiere of Survivor-on-a-boat(i believe it's actually called Pirate Master)? If you did, aside from the rather odd concept and the intriguing choice of a Daddo to host, were you as disappointed as I was that John was "cast adrift" in the first episode? Not because he was that interesting a character, but rather because where else in the televisual arts are you likely to see someone with the occupation of "scientist/exotic dancer"?

God knows why (perhaps it was the word 'Premi-arrrr' that did it), but I did actually sit through the entire first episode of Pirate Master, if only for Cameron Daddo's lovely pantomime drawstring trousers. I have no idea what he was doing striding around that boat issuing orders, though it's nice to see him on our screens again.

Completely agree about John, not least because he seemed hugely irritating and managed to creep out pretty much everyone onboard with his deranged whispering. I've taped the second episode as I hate myself and seek punishment. Hopefully it will lead to some kind of creative outpouring/beat poetry.

wrench said...
Dear Ms. Fits,
It wasn't till you mentioned Kyle being on the cover that I took an interest in your appearance in Picture mag some nine years ago, as I remembered buying such an issue back then. Sure enough, after going through some dusty boxes under the bed, there is was! I'm guessing that the pic was not actually taken underwater, just meant to look as such, still yours was the most tasteful of all the home girls of that issue. I do feel bad for the guy that had to put chillies on his dick as part of the dare. Out of interest, has he since fathered any children?
p.s. You didn't say you were a bag girl.

Wait, so of all the thousands of back issues of Picture magazine over the past eleven years, you just happened to have the exact one I was in underneath your bed? Either you are a devoted collector of lowbrow glossies or we have a suspiciously strange coincidence on our hands.

*narrows eyes*

Anyway.

a) The photo was taken by my partner at the time and I was actually showering in this room at the brilliant Madonna Inn in St. Luis Obispo.

b) Thank you, though that's the complimentary equivalent of saying 'out of the entire party, Goebbels was totally my favourite Nazi'.

c) Glenny G is yet to father any children that I'm aware of. I'm sure he'd appreciate your concern for his penis.

d) So I wanted to maintain a little privacy. SO WHAT OF IT.

m. said...
hey fits,

here's a question for you, in regards to tattoo etiquette.

is it ok to get irrationally angry when people you hardly know ask you what your tattoos mean? as someone who is visably inked, you might have some awesome womanly insight into this problem i have.

i'm tempted to get a picture of a dismembered corpse stuck onto my foreheard, and when people ask 'hey, what does that mean?' i can reply 'well, that's what i do to annoying people who ask me about my tattoos'. there are a few tiny problems with this course of action though, and i thought i might seek your advice first.

love,
m

Hello there young man,

For the most part I don't mind when people ask what my tattoos mean, but then I am in love with all but one of them. Obviously it's a little more difficult to maintain a calm demeanour when ten-year-old boys sidle up and point at the scrawl on your arm and sneer: 'What does that mean in English? Idiot*?', but really - since I've chosen to wallpaper myself with art I have to just cop the curious onlookers.

*this was actually said to me once. I had absolutely no comeback. Child of the Corn: 1, Fits: 0.

Others have further input:

Anonymous said...
Hey M, here's an idea for you - if you don't want strangers talking to you, don't do anything as attention-seeking as obviously tattooing yourself.

To which you reply:

m. said...
anon.

oh wow. perhaps i should just stay indoors for the rest of my days and raise a flock of cats.

that or post woefully unhelpful anonymous comments on someones blog.

Is a collective of cats really known as a 'flock'? It sounds suspicious to me.

Can I come and help you with your cats? I promise I won't make too many double entendres.

More in your mini street-battle:

Anonymous said...
How is "M" any less anonymous than "Anonymous"?

It does seem odd to complain about people talking to you about your tattoos - aren't tattoos a physical, public expression of yourself? The guy who stands on the corner of Swanston and LaTrobe with the sandwich board about the second coming doesn't complain if people ask him about it ...

Same as I have learned to take it when people comment on my mohawk. (ok, that's not true.)

The guy standing on the corner of Swanston and LaTrobe is simply trying to make friends and is yet to hear of Facebook, Anon. Pity him his social setbacks.

m. said...
i guess m is slightly less anonymous due to the fact that a few clicks take you to an attached blog in which i write a bunch of stuff about myself, where as anonymous tends to go nowhere.

body modification can be quite a personal thing. i don't comment when it comes to the appearance of people i don't know - weather it be their clothing, haircut, tattoos, horrible botched plastic surgery etc. i understand that a lot of people use tattoos as an exercise in attention seeking, but that's a stereotype and there's no need to assume everyone with visible ink gets it for that reason.

anon, feel free to e-mail me any continuation of this debate. saves us derailing the flow of the whole friday q&a thing: thwakk@gmail.com

Annnnd we're done.

Did Anon email you, m? Are you going to make babies like Cath and Perseus? This could be the most fertile RYWHM yet. A particularly handsome gent offered to send me photographs of his genitals today, so I'm well in the mood to facilitate some commenter hook-ups.

elmo said...
Ok. For reasons that mainly include working until my fingers bleed (and being happy about it), I haven't had time recently to read books. This is a strange way for me be, so I thought I'd rectify it by reading The Road. Pultizer Prize winner ought to do it! So I did so in a single day, and I feel now that my shit has been irreversably fucked up by it in a major, major way. I kind of don't want anyone I care about to read this book, however, I wonder if I'm missing something?

In summation, is the Pulitzer a piece of shit, and more importantly, can someone please recommend something life affirming for me to read, stat? Or else I'm going back to watching episodes of Heroes.

Halp, thx.

x

It really is an emotionally draining read, isn't it? Fucking McCarthy. I wouldn't go near it again if you paid me, which I realise is a highly unlikely scenario.

I'm a much bigger fan of the Booker in terms of prize/quality assurance, to be honest. If you're looking for an instant tale of uptliftingness I'd go Peter Carey's Bliss immediately. I know I harp on about it a bit, but it's good for what ails ye.

Any other suggestions, o wise readership?

Ben said...
Chuffed as I would be with the attentions of ravenous single women, I am both pretty much taken and unlikely to live up to expectations, being too large and possessed of no social skills whatsoever.

I should point out that your belief children's drama does not call for sex workers with a deft kitchen touch is not shared by all. Round the Twist, for one, could have done with a few less Gribbles and a few more gnocchi-generating temptresses able to leap into a reverse cowgirl upon production of an Amex Gold.

Also, Ocean Girl.

I want to defend Billy Joel by saying that, while he is clearly expressing a preference for slightly dim bulbs in that song, he also is apparently admitting to being a bit lacking upstairs himself ("work that hard"). But there, I've said too much.

Ricki-Lee has quit the Young Divas. I knew it. She will probably be replaced by Jessica Mauboy, whose first album was called The Journey. This'd be fine, but the guy who beat her's first album was called The Winner's Journey, so her album title just seems to be drawing unfortunate attention to her defeat.

Hopefully I'll have others before then, but my next confirmed stand-up gig is on September 25 at the Comic's Lounge. I feel guilty telling people when I'm performing - I don't wish to sound as if I'm offended by people not showing up.

I also want to say that as a child, I obsessed over words and stories AND got jazzed about Kanga Cricket. I never quite imagined myself in the Faraway Tree, although some of my fondest childhood memories involve listening to my dad reading us the Faraway Tree stories Mystery Science Theater-style, with humorous commentary.

I've never smoked a cigarette either - thought I was the only one. Never taken an illicit drug or gotten drunk either, which leads to my first (finally!) question:

I once read something, I think, where you said you didn't trust people who didn't drink. Is that true?

Also, a question raised at work tonight: will all the union palaver really affect people's voting intentions? As idiotic as these unionists appear to be (are they TRYING to give Howard ammunition), I find it hard to imagine that any of the hysterical letter-writers warning of terrible union-induced universe-failure in the event of a Rudd win have ever actually contemplated voting for Labor in the first place.

I have formulated an almost-complete article supporting Ms Deveny's piece last week on The Footy Show. Should I go ahead and submit such an essay? Did you like that piece of hers?

Stay fresh.

It's not that I don't trust people who don't drink, Ben. I'm just very comfortable in the company of drinkers. Also I tend to get a bit lippy when plied with various amounts of alcohol and find it's far better to unleash one's inner sailor around people who won't regard you with po-faced judgement the next day having witnessed the entire episode stone-cold sober.

With regard to the KEVIN RUDD 4 UNIONZ 4 EVA business the government's attempting to bewilder voters with, I wouldn't think so. Particularly considering Our Kevin keeps randomly and startlingly killing off any errant unionists who invoke his fiery wrath. I wouldn't cross that man's picket line when he's in a mood, I'll tell you right now.

p.s. Feel free to submit any Deveny-related praise, young man. Supporting funny ladies can only be a positive thing.

the frozen turnip said...
my dearest Ms Fits - I must begin with an enormous thank you for pointing me in the direction of the hilarious Ignatius J Reilly and his rather troublesome valve. A brilliant read and one that involved much laugh out-loud-on-the-train type shenanigans.

Which brings me to my q+a for this week -

1: Which fab books have you been reading lately?

2: Are you familiar with/a fan of, David Mitchell of Cloud Atlas fame?

3: If not, why not?

4: How are plans for the Sydney leg of the extravagantly-priced-liquor-soirée going?

the frozen turnip

Oh, I'm so glad you liked Ignatius. He is one of the most magnificently fleshy characters I've ever had the pleasure of stumbling across.

1: As mentioned earlier, I've been very much admiring of Salinger's Franny and Zooey. I've also knocked Breakfast Of Champions over.

Which in turn, knocked me over.

2: Not familiar, no. I really must broaden my reading circle.

3: Because there's only so many hours in a day, I suppose. And most of mine are spent on my computer answering questions.

And, of course, wasting time on Facebook.

4: Actually, I'll be up in Sydney for a few nights next week - though I fear my cocktail window* is closing rapidly as I have a couple of work functions and daily meetings where hangovers are not in any way welcome. Failing that, I'll be up again in late July/early August.

*this sounds an offensively lewd premise, does it not?

*adds to urban dictionary*

DJKL said...
I agree with Dr Nic about Gibson: "Pattern Recognition" was by far his best book, although perhaps the ending didn't fulfill the amazing promise of the premise (?) That said, I reckon "Neuromancer" is completely overrated derivative rubbish (much like "The Matrix") so you can tell I am a sci-fi snob with a twist of lime. Now, I have hassled you about this before, but every Vonnegut lover MUST read "Sirens of Titan". If you hate Vonnegut but like sci-fi (or vice versa), then you still MUST READ IT ANYWAY. You will realise that Douglas Adams probably read it a few times before starting on HHGTTG. So I suppose my question is have you read it, and if not, then why not?
(hfbdioqu: are these verifications getting longer everytime?)

That really is a ridiculously long verification word, DJKL. Blogger is having a lend of us. WHY DO WE DEPEND ON YOU SO WHOLLY YET CURSE YOUR EVERY BREATH, FOUL OVERLORD.

I love that people are starting to get cross with me because I'm yet to read their favourite book. Is it not enough that I'm taking careful note and planning holidays around your recommendations? There's only so much of my concentration span to go around, and the bulk of it is spent on attempting to win over wordy brunettes. Pity me my rabid flirtations.

Anonymous said...
I too watched those basics boys from afar quite recently (east brunswick club with the bawdies). Now I have crushes on two boys of the red-haired nature! How did you find out about them?

They are somewhat spectacular, aren't they? Which ginge tickles you particularly, Kris or Tim?

I'd probably veer towards Tim, even though he spent the majority of our radio interview last Tuesday night sprawled out on the floor in a whisky-sodden coma. Wally is also unbearably handsome, though he obviously doesn't tick your Fantapants box.

I can't remember how I found out about them - possibly I heard them on PBS - though I do know that my life is all the richer for their inclusion.

bros said...
Hiya Fits-y,

I have a two questions which may contain several different parts:

Question 1.

I have discovered recently (read the last ten minutes) that my ex-boy, love of my life, long involved and still crying over (after much lament and red wine)has moved from his native England to our fair shores - to your stomping ground no less!!!

Now when he left the last time, he stood in front of me here in the land of plenty,lied through his teeth - and said he would be back to be with me in 2 months time.

After he dropped me, on the phone from 14,000 km away, I was under the impression that we had an understanding. ie - he would stay in his hemisphere and I would stay in mine.

Three years later he is here - FOR GOOD. (now an aquientence of both yours and mine had spotted him several months earlier in the year in your fair city - and he had attemped to engage her - to no avail - what loyalty! I assumed he was here on holidays)

The question is - should he have at least sent me a cursory email to prepare me for his arrival? A small notelet to give me some time to fit into my best clothes, change my hair and get a better job, just in case I ran into him, or is he well within his migration rights?

and

2. "Rack off Tug or I'll tell everyone how you really got your nickname" - would this have passed muster at Neighbours in your day?

awaiting your input, through put and out put

(excuse the spelling mistakes, I went to school in the days of sight-words and near enough is good enough)

1. My legal team informs me that sadly your dastardly ex is well within his rights to live wherever he so desires, the globetrotting cad. What's so great about our country, anyway?

I think this heartbreaking fiend should have indeed chucked an electronic missive your way to prepare you for the potentially fatal stroke you may have suffered during a night out when running into him feeling up a blonde hussy named Taylah outside Hungry Jacks on Russell street. Obviously it's just going to look weird now if you fire off an angry letter insisting that he tell you FOUR MONTHS AGO IN A BACKDATED SERIES OF MYSPACE MESSAGES THAT HE WAS SHIFTING INTO THE HOOD, so I suggest you just draw a deep breath (and a deep bath) and do your best to ignore the fact that your devilish cocksucker is breathing that same air as you - as us! No less! - and try to press on knowing that you'll probably only have to bump into him eighty-three more times before it stops being awkward.

2. It probably would have, actually. Neighbours was a hotbed of trash-talk back when I worked there. I daren't tell you the sorts of things we got up to during our end-of-year video shoot.

Hellglitter said...
Dearest Dollfits,
I've been rather fond of Rory Mcleod after an interview followed by a night out on the tiles many years past.
Tell me, what do you think of this bag of tell from off the tube?
I've got no idea how to insert so here's the address.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RO_xCvYGtxY&mode=related&search=

My veri beast is clffho. A slutty fan of Cliff Richard perhaps?

Hello m'dear,

Rory's alright I suppose. It's Tap Dogs meets Billy Bragg, isn't it? I prefer mine a bit noisier, to be perfectly honest.

Catbrain said...
Hello gorgeous,

I have worked as a polling official at the last two general elections. I love it because it's an opportunity to be directly involved in the process. My parents both worked as polling officials every election for as long as I was living at home and I had to hang out with my mum at the polling booth all day in my younger years, so it's also a bit of a nostalgia trip.

I've recently submitted my application for this year's election, but I'm thinking of withdrawing it in favour of (hopefully) being amidst a mighty celebration.

Is it too early to make the symbolic gesture of withdrawing the application?

Can I come to your party?

kisses

Oh, of course you can. It will be open to all who like their politics and a drink. I don't think it's too early to bow out of your polling official duties - it will probably look better done now rather than closer to the date when it simply looks as though you've had a better offer to go cruising tail with Kenickie and the T-Birds.

Hellglitter said...
Dearest Dollfits,
Could we please organise a left leaning loony Dollfits party on election night and drag together the wonderful sundries of your comment section for an evening of political bliss and madness?
Vote 1, Dollfits party today.
Is there a cavernous bookshop in Melbourne with a big tv tuned to election night broadcasts that would make the perfect venue?
Also we need a small stage for our fave bands.
Just asking....reality has nothing to do with this question you know. It's all catbrain's fault for making the idea pop into my head.

Veri beast= pixep: A fairy's burp.

Polichicks will take care of it, Hellglitter. Stay tuned for further updates/maps/trails of chocolate leading to city bars and left-leaning gadabouts.

*********************

I have to cut q's slightly short today as I have ~~wasted too much time playing on Facebook~~ many things to do before I rest. I'll attempt to address the remaining questions over the weekend - apologies if you've missed out due to my idiotic teenage habit of being so easily distracted.

If you get a chance in the next couple of days, go check out La Mama's production of Osama The Hero - details here. Glenny G and I had a very highbrow night of it at the theatre on Tuesday and it's well worth catching as one of the actors is a total spunk, if a little beardie and intense to take home to your parents.

Time for me to venture out into the world and see what it has to offer. Thrilling encounters with waistcoated nerds and knees-up goodtimes celebrating the lovely Clem's ageing via the background music of Little Red stretch out before me. All is well with the world.

138 days til the next election.

The best (real) excuse for getting out of work, ever.

2007-06-27T08:19:00.000+10:00

*ring ring*

Nice producer: Conversation Hour.

Me: I am so sorry to do this to you at such short notice. But I'm not sure I can come in this morning.

Nice producer: Is everything alright?

Me: No. Bob Ellis is sick.

Nice producer: ......

Me: I'm just in a total state. I really am. We were going for a walk and Bob Ellis ate something off the ground and is now sitting here at my feet, foaming at the mouth. I have no idea what it was. It could have been anything. Old medicine, a syringe.

Nice producer: Bob Ellis is foaming at the mouth so you can't come in?

Me: I called the vet and they said it could be nothing, but it was best to get it checked out just in case. I mean, everything looks fine apart from all this heinous white froth. (to Bob Ellis) You're an idiot, you know that? What did you eat? What was it?

Pause.

Me: She's a horror. Anyway, I'm really sorry.

Nice producer: (utterly bemused) Oh. Fine.

Me: I'll let you know what the vet says. I hate to be precious, but she's my only dog and I'm kind of crazy about her.

Long pause.

Nice producer: .....Oh, riiiiight.

***********************************

Next time I'm going to say I can't come in because Wayne Swan's wearing odd socks. Just to freak him out.

140 days til the next election.

p.s. $250 in vet bills later and Bob Ellis (canine) is just fine, thank you.

Blogger Cat does not LOL.

2007-06-26T13:13:00.000+10:00

141 days til the next election.

Friday q and a #75.

2007-06-22T11:26:00.000+10:00

Of course I'm still alive, you mooks. Just disappeared to the beach for a few days on a ~~jet plane~~ whim and am more than happy with the arrangement and subsequent exhalation, thank you for asking.

Reading so many above-par books is leading me to further time outdoors kicking sand moodily along a foreshore. Before that blessed occurrence, I'll just address a few salty questions...

Dr Nic said...

Oi, Fitzerella! Ignore whomever said that Gibson's Pattern Recognition was sub-par. It's one of the best things ever written.

And thus begins this week’s edition of Friday q’s, brought to you by William Gibson and the letter I. Considering pretty much every RYWHM commenter and their dog seems to have an opinion on science-fiction literature, we may as well nestle the genre-based q’s together so those with an aversion can skip forward and save themselves the bother.

Like so:

Easily Confused said...

Hello Ms Fits,

A worthy start on Mr Gibson would be Virtual Light, though another member of the unofficial RYWHM book group may have a better suggestion.

I'm a total sci-fi nerd so can't be relied on to be objective about some authors, tv shows or films. Basically your hysterical JOSS WHEDON CAN DO NO WRONG type loon. I'm the person people text when they're at trivia nights and need to know Captain Kirk's middle name.

My question, I think it been asked before, anyway...how do you cope with the nastier comments? I'm quite fascinated with how strong you seem in the face of vitriol which would have me sobbing and rocking back and forth in a corner. I am ridiculously thin skinned though which probably explains why I spend so much time off in the Delta quadrant with Captain Janeway or drooling over Starbuck in the new Battlestar Galactica.

After three years of sporadic personal attacks in the blog comments I’m kind of used to it all by now. There’s only so many times some anonymous genius can call you a talentless fuckfaced gimp before you realise they’re drawing assumptions based solely on your creative output and know thirty-eight astonishing lengths of sweet bugger all about you as a human being so you shouldn’t really take what they say to heart as they are most likely a social retard with chafing ‘issues’. Obviously I make note if someone offers constructive criticism of my writing, but if it’s merely a matter of Frothy McCrazington from Glen Iris suggesting that I’d be better off exploring a career as ship’s cook and concubine than polluting the greater world with my words, I can say with absolute and utmost sincerity that I hope their cock falls off and gets eaten by their dog.

As for Captain Kirk’s middle name, you ain’t the only dorkus in town…

Anonymous said...

Pfft.

Tiberius. And i'm not a trekkie or a whedon-phile - that's Trivia 101, that is...

See? This is why I’d be heinous at trivia. Please don’t invite me to any more social evenings as I am busy at home staring dumbly into space and imagining new hairstyles for my Barbies.

Easily Confused said...

Hello Anon at 4.21pm,

Is that trivia 101? I've never been to a trivia night so have no idea, but if it is a standard trivia night question that explains why I've had at least half a dozen texts from trivia playing friends needing Tiberius.

You do realise all your trivia-playing friends are cheating, don’t you? Mobile phones are patently not allowed during quiz challenges. What’s wrong with children today and their fear of failure? I blame the Howard Government’s typical emphasis on high achieving, etc.

More Gibson…

D said...

As far as Gibson's work: I enjoyed pretty much all of it, but I'd also recommend Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash.

How can you not love a book with a lead character called Hiro Protagonist??

Buh bye all of ye, have fun!

I have been considering the name ‘Miso Horny’ for a Japanese chef/prostitute character, but can’t for the life of me figure out what type of show to write her into. Children’s drama doesn’t have much call for sex workers with a deft kitchen touch, sadly.

just some guy said...

Snow Crash is fun but it's an earlier work and it shows. The massive chunks of Sumerian mythology tend to stop the story dead the way a brick wall across a motorway stops traffic.

The Diamond Age is the spiritual sequel to Snow Crash and far superior.

Cryptonomicon is better still. Although not SF at first glance, the back-and-forth between present day and WW2 is well done, and the cryptographic theme meshes with the story in a much more natural way. Educational and entertaining.

Pattern Recognition is a great novel. I think Gibson fans who don't like it are waiting for him to write another Neuromancer. I'm really looking forward to Spook County.

Anyway, enough from me.

Oh, Gibson wrote Cryptonomicon? A friend of mine just finished reading that and said it was hellish but rewarding. All that you really want from your novels, I guess.

Private school educated public servant said...

China Mieville - Perdido Street Station, or The Scar.

I defy any geek lady or man who reads these and does not want to shag his brain.

Or you know, just have a nice cup of tea with him and discuss lefty type things and the weather.

I think I’d prefer a decent brain-shag, PSEPS. Who wants to waste time having a cup of tea and fretting about Kevin when they could be busy nakedly jousting with a genius? There’s always the chance to sit in bed and dissect the front page of The Australian ‘post’, anyway.

Stereotypical Asian Whore said...

You funny! I love you long time. You like?

Sure, I don’t mind.

Anonymous said...

Question:

Is Mikeed really just you writing about yourself?

If it's not you, how come this person knows so much about you?

Tempting as it would be to while away hours in the day devoting an entire blog personally and cunningly denouncing myself and my career (fun for the whole family!), I can safely say that I have nothing whatsoever to do with Mikeed or his interesting creative pursuits. Why on earth would I bother? If I have something hateful to say to myself I’ll say it to my face. I am an open book in this fashion.

In terms of how much Mikeed apparently knows about me – let’s see. I’m an inner-city dwelling left-wing woman who writes about intricate details of her life and social haunts on an almost daily basis. The fact that someone has stunningly joined the dots together and suggested I might wear second-hand clothes and be a bit of a Fitzroyal stereotype is hardly a revelation. Next thing you know he’ll be suggesting I date musicians, use green bags for shopping and attend the Meredith Music Festival. THE MAN IS CLEARLY GIFTED.

tex martini said...

Hello,

I had a big lunch, then ate way too much icecream. I now feel a little crook. I have tried drinking a cup of tea and having a cigarette, which are usually pretty good for the digestion. As a lover of food, do you have any cures for the ill effects of having made a guts of yourself (as you are a lady, you may not over indulge like that. Pardon me if so).

Thanks,

Oh, I’m a terrible overeater. And not much of a lady either, while we’re on the topic. Anyway, if you find yourself with a distended stomach and frowning ‘oh dear, I think I may puke up my spleen’-type face after making a monster of yourself at a Smorgy’s buffet, I’d suggest a large mug of peppermint tea followed by a lie-down with a hot water bottle and a nice friend to sit by your bedside and not talk about food. If all else fails you can try some of that fizzy stuff that strips your stomach lining and robs you of the will to live and eventually you’ll live to gluttonise another day in the manner of Ian Hewitson on a brie bender.

Big Matt Stud said...

I'm not sure if anyone has seen this - Scantily clad fan voices her love for Barack - but as a quick precis, it's about a girl in the US who has made a video of herself shaking what her Momma gave her and lip-syncing to a ditty called "I Got a Crush on Obama". The last paragraph of the story contains what appears to be a challenge to the comely lasses of the left in Australia.

Which leads smh.com.au to the question - could our politicians ever generate the same kind of responses? Will anybody ever shake their booty for Kevin Rudd? Only time will tell.

Is there anything in the upcoming Polichicks line which might be of assistance here ?

I’d be more than happy to shake tail for K-Rudd if I thought a video of a 31-year-old writer in an idiotic-looking pinafore and stay-up fishnets doing the Batusi would help boost his chances in the polls. At the very least I’d consider moonwalking for Jennie Macklin. So far Polichicks don’t have any dance-related items in the pipeline (Wayne Swan unitards? Tony Abbot legwarmers – ‘to ward off the little anklebiters’?), but I can’t say it won’t ever happen. Perhaps we should all of us consider some kind of political-based musical challenge. Bags me rocking the Gillardisco3000.

AnonymousVixen said...

Hiya Fits,

What's your opinion on relationship month-anniversaries? Like "My boy and I are going to dinner tonight to celebrate our four-month anniversary!" I've generally thought the idea of month anniversaries pointless, but my most recent squeeze seemed to place high importance on it:

*whine* I think it's important we do something, it's our one month! Is your uni assignment really that important?

Am I just a heartless, unromantic, uptight party pooper for finding month-anniversaries petty, pointless and plain annoying?

I’d be wary of hooking up with someone who was insistent on celebrating four weeks together with high tea at the Windsor and a commemorative photo album, though there’s something quite lovely about sporadically booting your beloved in the backside and reminding them that a little over x months ago you first locked eyes over a pot of Coopers/friended each other on myspace/participated in a threeway and since then hasn’t life just been a Tony Bennett medley darlingheart etc. If your paramour is so taken by your company that he wishes to sing the days of togetherness from the rooftops, then by all means let him. It’s very sweet, and obviously important to him. If, however, you find yourself the recipient of ’OMG 37 dayz!!! LUV U’-type Hallmark cards or oversize balloon animals wishing you a Happy 4th Friday (May) then ditch this psycho meatbeast and run for the hills lest he smother you to death with babytalk and fungally saccharine sentiment.

Mootsie said...

My word you must have a lot of time on your hands young Ms Fitsy. My question to you is were you as bored writing all that as I was reading it?
For fucks sake it took me more than half an hour to get through it all!

It really depends on how bored you were exactly. On a scale of one to ten – one being ‘so bored I stabbed myself in the eye with a chopstick rather than continue this mind-numbing exercise any longer’ and ten being ‘character in a Beckett play who would probably hang around regardless’ – how would you rate your experience? Obviously I have moments of finding Friday q’s a bit of a tedious chore but wouldn’t finish them if I didn’t want to. If you’re having difficulty maintaining interest you could always – and here’s a novel idea – go read someone else’s blog. I can’t be expected to please everyone, you know.

Anonymous said...

What is your biggest regret?

I try not to regret too much as it inevitably ends up making knots of worry in one’s stomach that grow into cancer, though in the days of yore I wish I’d been able to help my ex win custody of his daughter in the family court. At the very least it might have saved our relationship, though at the time the idea of keeping phone records/’behaviour’ notebooks and the like was utterly foreign to me as I prefer to presume the best of people and not imagine that they’re going to nick your kid and fuck off to live in Nimbin without telling you.

Anonymous said...

1. Have you ever considered doing a sex-and-the-city type column?

2. Do you like sex and the city?

3. Isn't Jeff Buckley a beautiful man?

1. What exactly defines a ‘Sex And The City-type column’, Anon? Do you mean just shooting the breeze about men being hopeless and how lovely certain types of shoes are? I’m not sure I’d be qualified to pen such inanities as I am patently living the life of a teenage boy and find certain aspects of womankind utterly mystifying. While we’re dancing around the topic, wtf is the deal with ‘clutch bags’? Do they hold anything of use? Can you fit a book in them? No. Now go away and fetch me a canvas tote, post-haste.

2. Not overly, no. I certainly enjoyed the fact that the main cast seemed free to go out to lunch every day and get wholly smashed without it affecting their employment, but that’s because I’m quite shallow and am overly distracted by liquor.

3. Do you mean physically? He certainly was, yes. I’m very partial to emotionally troubled brunettes, so he ticked a lot of boxes for me in the pants department.

Anonymous said...

You mentioned a couple weeks back that you'd consider turning gay for Amy Winehouse?!?!?!? What exactly is it about a tattooed, anorexic self mutilator that turns you on? Surely to turn for someone they would have to be physically appealing, at least just a little. And what is it with people cutting themselves these days? Even the celebrities are getting in on the trend. There's Lindsay Lohan and Winehouse and of course the original cutter Angelina Jolie.

Speaking of emotionally troubled brunettes…look, I never pretended to have highbrow taste in crushes, Anon. The majority of people I end up in love with tend to suffer severe anxiety attacks in public places and then disappear for days on end to ‘unleash the art’/drink gin. That’s what you get when you go for creative types, I suppose. When it comes to Ms Winehouse I must say that I do prefer my women to be tattooed trashy foul-mouthed harpies as I am a narcissist.

re: The slicing trend - fuck knows. Obviously once Jolie has paved the way, others will follow. I can't see the appeal myself, but then I've always preferred quiet nights with a book to stabbing myself in the arm with a meat cleaver.

Anonymous said...

Just wanted to say that I was a bit disappointed by the advice you dispensed last week to a poster(cannot recall her name) whose boyfriend had pashed some girl. To my dismay you seemed to completely ignore her rather disturbed and bitter outpouring and you even reassured her that she must be in a good relationship if she has worked things out with her man! Well it seems she has worked things out by solely blaming the girl in the incident rather than her boyfriend who I suspect will be involved in many other party pashes in his time. My question is, when you are playing agony aunt do you just say things to make people feel better or do you say what you really think?
p.s. where can I read your book reviews?

You have a fair point, Anon. The poster in question is – I suspect rather heavily – someone I know, which obviously tempered my answer as I have an insight into her life and relationship and wish to tread carefully. Clearly the idea of a partner randomly heading out and tongue-slamming various outside parties is not one to be applauded, and nor do I think the gentleman in question should be let off scot-free. I can only draw on my own experiences with infidelity, whereby I have endured some agonisingly difficult discussions with boyfriends after horridly public indiscretions and emerged eventually more united for it. Each case is different. I do attempt to answer Friday q’s with complete honesty and a frank personal opinion rather than just blow smoke up the backside of questioners as it would be ~~more of~~ a waste of time otherwise.

p.s. Book reviews sporadically appear in the A2.

Anonymous said...

Hello -

My sincere apologies for asking this question, because I can see that (most other) people have refrained from giving him undue attention, and I was intending to as well, but then, well, I can't bear the confusion any more ...

WHO is Mikeed1313? Who is Mikeed1313AW or whatever the name is?

Does one get the whole story looking at your blog and his blog, or are their other blogs involved?

What is going on?

I realise Ms Fits may not want to answer this question so if anyone else can shed some light for me, I'd be very grateful.

No idea. Honestly. Absolutely no idea a) who he is, b) what his story is or c) if there are other blogs involved. As stated previously, it’s not some highly amusing joke I’m playing on you all, nor do I have the inclination to spend days poring over the whys and wherefores. I only read websites that lavish me with praise, you see. This is how I remain so close-minded and blissfully ignorant of the outside world.

Anonymous said...

Yes, please ... I'd like to hear about Mikeed too. Or at least, I'd like you to confirm that its not you 'aving a laff.

Also, why doesn't he comment on the Q&A post, yet posts obsessively on the others?

Triply confirmed that it’s not me mining some rich comedic vein of self-flagellation. As for the absence of q and a participation, I have no idea.

Anonymous said...

HELLO WHERE I CAN FIND THESE IMAGES OF PICTURE MAGAZINE GOOD DAY

It was nine years ago and Kylie Minogue appeared somewhere on the cover. As did the word ‘choozies’, from memory. That’s all the information you’ll get out of me, you perverted grub.

Anonymous said...

HELLOW ANSWER ME GOOD DAY

You are starting to sound suspiciously like one of those emails from the King of Nigeria asking for my fiscal assistance and referring to me as ‘sir’, Anon. Pull yourself together, do.

Anonymous said...

I HAVE NO MATERIAL WITH WHICH FOR THE FAPPING TO BE DONE BAD DAY

Surely you can find fap-worthy material elsewhere on the internet. I suggest typing the word ‘pornography’ into Google. You never know what kind of nudie delights you’ll stumble upon.

Fever Dog said...

G'Day Ms Fits,
Lovely to see you as ever; riddle me this, if you will:
What does Fapping mean? Inspired by last comment, who seems very much like Dixon Bainbridge.

My intended question is what do you make of the Dalai Lama's meeting with Mr Johnny H? I mean obviously with his whole universal compassion thing going, it's not too much of a mystery from the Dalai Lama's point of view -- but I'd really like to hear your thoughts on it all.

1. ‘Fapping’ is the art of masturbating, Fever Dog. So called due to apparent ‘fap fap’ noise created by palm attacking penis-flesh.

2. I think JWH agreed to meet with HRH D. Lama for the sole reason that Kevin was prevaricating and he wanted to look like the bigger man with an everso impressive set of can-do kahunas. Whether he listened to a word Tibet’s exiled spiritual leader had to say is a matter of debate – my guess is he spent the entire time thinking ‘this is going to look so freaking sweet on my CV’. Good times.

Ben said...

This is spiffing: I am, for once NOT "the other Ben". I'm moving up.

I'm not really that pedantic: If I was really pedantic, I'd point out to Anonymous that your 17th year actually culminates in your 17th birthday, not your 18th.

Or I'd point out that Marty rode the hoverboard in Back to the Future 2.

But I'm not, so I won't.

I do enjoy pedantry. It's my only actual skill, besides spelling. I once dreamed of becoming an international spelling star, playing huge arena spelling gigs, wherein young ladies would squeal with delight at the words I could spell: "Oh my God, I didn't think he was going to spell diphtheria, I LOVE this one!" Anyway...

Trouble with Time Management? Try this: http://www.videotrain.com.au/info.asp?pid=18

Yeah. I fucking wrote that. Hardcore.

John Inman's marvellous, but not directly comparable the way Kenneth and Sid are. I prefer Kenneth myself. He was the tortured type, rather than the "leap uninvited into bed with my best friend's French wife" type. I'm somehow attracted to the thought he was dying inside all the time in those movies. His diaries were most mournful. Also, in a bio of Sid James, Sid was described as being intimidated by Ken's "spiky intelligence". I'd love to be described one day as having spiky intelligence. I'd love to intimidate Sid James. Anyway.

I would rank Kenneth ahead of John Inman, but I'd rank Benny Hill behind him. And behind John Inman was always the place to be. Oo-er!

Incidentally (to other Fitsophiles), anyone browsing these comments before Wednesday, I'm at the Comic's Lounge in Errol Street North Melbourne Wednesday night. Competition to be decided by Applause-o-meter, so anyone who turns up and makes lots of noise for me will be owed forever favours by myself.

Questions? Why not?

1. Do you like Billy Joel? I don't mind if you don't, I just ask you not to be cruel to me.

2. Seeing as others have asked about William Gibson...are you the type of person who always knows where her towel is?

3. Do you ever get the feeling that the other Young Divas are constantly making mean comments to Kate and not inviting her to things? Especially Ricki-Lee. What a bitch.

4. Which of these lines, if any, would you be offended by if you heard a stand-up comedian deliver them with elan and style:

a) I can't really understand the paedophile mindset, but then I'm a breast man.

b) To me, comedy should be a way of life, like quadriplegia. Of course, I would find quadriplegia very hard, because I have a morbid fear of ramps.

c) Steve Irwin died filming an animal documentary. Then Peter Brock died racing a car. I expected to pick up the paper any day and find out John Howard had choked to death on Satan's cock.

That's all for now. See you in the ether, dear heart.

Word verification: "naydj" - the catchcry at medieval discos when Enrique Iglesias come on.

It’s always a pleasure catching up with you on Fridays, Ben. I’m sorry I wasn’t in town on Wednesday to witness your comic skills – keep us posted on your gigs and we’ll all try to appear one night and throw you with our collective winsomeness by shouting out LOL at random intervals WON’T WE EVERYONE.

To the questions:

1. I’m not much of a Billy Joel fan, though I do respect the fact that he’s always been so open about craving the company of moronic women. ‘I don’t want clever conversation/I never want to work that hard/I just want someone that I can talk to/I love you just the way you are (you utterly brainless leggy fuck-knuckle)’. Why not just come out and admit you prefer dumbasses as dates, fellow troubadours? Time and cost-efficient if you ask me.

2. No, I never know where my towel is. Though I do try to keep it off the bathroom floor.

3. I’m not sure I’d be so keen to invite Kate DeAraugo to parties either. She seems unbearably dull. Rickie-Lee, on the other hand, appeals to me in that kind of Gold-Coast-Girl-With-Sharp-Tongue-Makes-Good-In-Little-To-No-Clothing way, like Bree Amer from Big Brother who I also privately fancy a little bit.

Only when intoxicated, mind.

4. I am fair on impossible to offend when it comes to stand-up, Ben. The wronger the better. I am always the idiot laughing too loudly at jokes the rest of the room has audibly gasped at and being silenced with angry glares. Carry on being offensive; you’ll always have a fan in me.

p.s. c = genius.

Anonymous said...

Hi Ben,

FYI, I keep guffawing at the last one.

Me too, Anon. Isn’t he clever?

I’d watch out if I were you, Ben. The single ladies of RYWHM can be utterly ravenous when it comes to fresh talent.

Anonymous said...

Mmmm- let's see - has to be a question raher than a comment, so - Do you think ben can really be a pedant if he uses the expression 'that pedantic'? (Oh, Lord Ms Fits, don't tell me you don't think there's anything wrong with it either!?!)

I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer this. I consider myself somewhat of a grammar pedant and I make a complete grammatical ass of myself on a constant basis. If someone enjoys having sex with donkeys and briefly diverts to make love to a woman, does it no longer make them a donkey-fucker? I think not.

Anyway:

Ben said...

Why should a pedant not be willing to embrace the realities of modern usage? IS there anything wrong with "that pedantic"? It would be wrong to say "Look at that pedantic over there", but I think a normal, healthy person should be able to say "that pedantic" from time to time, as long as they are in a committed relationship.

(Of course, some thing are just a step too far: I shall never, for example, use the word "laxadaisical")

But come! This is neither the time nor the place!

Isn’t it? It seems the perfect time and place to me. Lovely use of the brisk exclamation ‘But come!’, may I say. You don’t hear that enough nowadays. If I were on a date with a boy who drained his beer and suddenly said: ‘But come! We’ll miss the film if we don’t press on!’ I may just propose to him then and there and to hell with the naysayers calling us foolish romantics for rushing into things.

Cloudy said...

Maybe you were distracted by thoughts of the "doe-eyed spunk" or dazzled/put off by my brilliant "poll coverage" double entendre, but you didn't answer my main question: Do you appreciate the drama of election night or would watching even the Brownlow Medal count be preferable? Any highlights from elections past or anything you're hoping to see happen?

I did realise my mistake after posting, and I do apologise. Thoughts of Dan Kelly and politics and election night combined to send me into a frothing fit and I clearly neglected your question. The shame of it.

Anyway, I much prefer the drama of elections to the ‘Bueller…Bueller’ monotony of football’s Night of Nights ™. For one thing you’ve got Antony Green looking eight parts of hot and mildly unhinged, as well as breathless OH GOD LATHAM’S GOING TO DO IT OH GOD NO HE ISN’T OH GOD THE CUNTS HAVE GOT THE SENATE-type emotional rollercoasters and on top of everything there’s the off chance you’ll see Bob Ellis pacing the press room covered in crumbs and looking as though he may snap and lunge at Kerry O’Brien with a sharpened HB and a compass. Election night! Blessed election night! I look forward to its heartachey tears and arm-squeezing thrills and staggering tumult and ensuing days locked in the living room naked but for a faux fur rug and a bottle of gin. Bring it the fuck on.

voodooboy said...
Dear Fitzy,

I'm catching up on several weeks RYWHM, due to a period travelling in which Friday Q&A was only accessible via ruinous hotel internet. I did briefly visit Melbourne, but failed to offer to buy you a drink as I had always planned to do when in the same city. I was actually in town to go to a science fiction convention, which I am happy to admit as it turns out this particular Q&A is full of outpourings of love and respect for the SF and fantasy literary genres. I second the recommendation of Miéville, btw.

Anyway, that was all by way of needlessly explaining why my question refers to something mentioned a few weeks ago -- I notice you got a bottle of fancy gin for your birthday. I am a gin afficianado myself, and have just bought a big bottle of duty free Hendricks on your recommendation, so can I trouble you for some gin reviews?

Sadly, we have no Gin Palace in WA, so chances to sample interesting gin without buying a whole bottle are rare.

Trouble me for some gin reviews? Obviously I'm a fan of Tanqueray Ten as I am very highbrow, but I'm yet to sample the exotic-looking bottle my dear friend Hermione presented me with on my birthday as I've barely been home since for long enough to shower. If I'm 'on tin' I'll insist on Gordon's (I do very much like the pictures of lemons on the packaging), and no matter what the purists say about Bombay Sapphire it still has its charms. Can I keep you updated on the new arrival? I should be back in my apartment some time in late August.

Anonymous said...
what do you make of this blog?

http://desperatesarah.blogspot.com

I guess if people want to write about their dating life in such fervid detail they're entitled to - and I'm as curious as anyone else about the love puzzles of others. My favourite of this genre is early Greg The Boyfriend - you can spend literally hours poring over the archives as he reels from one drunken disastrous sexual encounter to the next. These days as far as I can tell he's moved in with his girl and practically married (note nauseatingly happy ending), but the early writings still possess a certain insousciant louche charm.

Perseus said...
Ms Fits.

My pick up line of late has been, "Hi, I'm in my mid-30's, single, I have a good job and I want a woman who is happy to be barefoot and pregnant".

It's amazing how many "Well hello there"s I get from childless women in their 30's. Unfortunately, I haven't particularly fancied any of these potential breeders. But, I also get a few odd looks as if to say, "That's no way to woo a woman. Bugger off."

My questions are:

1 - Should I wait for the second date before mentioning the barefoot and pregnant bit?

2 - Do you want babies? I'm in my mid 30's, I have a good job and am looking for a woman that is happy to be barefoot and pregnant (my sole aspiration in life is to be a house-husband).

Ah, Perseus. I'm going to address your second question first, as you have more to say which we'll get to in a moment.

Obviously given that my best friend in the whole world has just given life to the world's most perfect infant, I'm more inclined to think about procreating. But I ain't in any hurry. And besides which, we're yet to meet. Surely this would be a hindrance when it came to prenatal classes/Herald Sun birth notices etc.

More for you...

Anonymous said...
Perseus, you'll probably do better when you learn to see women as a "who" and not a "that".

Plenty of women in their 30s want babies, but not to the exclusion of a good wooing.

I'd agree with you there, Anon. Though what constitutes a 'good wooing' these days is surely a matter of taste. I'd be pleased with dinner, a mix tape, and the type of carefully-crafted amusing emails that make your ears go pink, but then I'm a simple lass at heart and obviously if people want to send marching bands/ghetto blasters in the rain my way I wouldn't argue with them as there's a chance they might be highly strung.

Ben said...
Shouldn't someone who aims to be a house-husband be looking for a woman who's happy working full-time and sharing all her money?

That crossed my mind too, Ben. How can I be barefoot and pregnant whilst supporting Mr. Mom? Even writers have to wear shoes sometimes.

The conversation continues:

Perseus said...
Anonymous:

I said 'who' the first time, and meant 'who' the second time. Besides, "...that is/does something" is not a denial of the gender or worth of the 'woman'.

EG: She is the woman THAT wears odd socks.

I argue that saying, "A woman THAT is happy..." is not as bad as you would have it. The word 'that' is, in that context, a relative pronoun, which is at best permissable and at worst forgivable.

I've haven't back-pedalled so fast since I said 'Richmond will make the 8 this year' after round 2.

Look ladies, he's fast on his feet! How on earth is a chap like you having such trouble impregnating a willing lovely, Perseus? The mind boggles.

Perseus said...
Now I'm all flustered. Allow me to re-word the question.

I'm 38 next week and I would like to have babies some time in the next couple of years. I understand that might not happen, but I want it to happen. At what point in the wooing process can I mention it? First meeting? Fifth shag? Three months?

I dated a woman recently - I liked her, she liked me. After two months I mentioned that 'one day' I would like to have a family (I didn't say 'with you'... it was theoretical) and she said, "I am NEVER EVER having babies!". It ended it for me. It wouldn't have if I was 25, but now it does.

Hence, my dilemma.

You definitely shouldn't be dropping that kind of thing into conversation on the first date, my friend. Surely it matters to you who exactly you'll be bringing a child into the world with? Or are you simply after a vessel? If you're not careful you'll end up like one of those women racing around with sweaty palms and turkey basters obsessing over how much sperm their boyfriend is producing and how long they have to jump up and down in a doorway for after intercourse in order to be suitably upduffed.

Here's some further charmed advice for you:

MICHAEL ASSFACE said...
Yo baby daddy. Don't even tell the skirt that you want the little uns. Just have unprotected sex with her! Then everyone wins! Except her but who cares.

I can't remember the last time I heard a woman referred to as 'the skirt'. You're a catch yourself, aren't you Assface? Cheeky monkey.

The Happy Revolutionary said...
Do you think there's an under-appreciation of books in Australia, or at least Melbourne? I mean sure, there's always lots of people on Readings.
On the other hand, most people seem to think Patrick White is either a rugby player, or a cryptic Reservoir Dogs reference.
What gives?

You can't force people to love reading, THR. Generally it would appear that while some kids obsess over words and stories and imaginging themselves living in a tree with Saucepan Man and Moonface, others get jazzed about Kanga Cricket and will argue the tippety run rule til they're blue in the face. That's what makes us such a diverse bunch, presumably. Doesn't it warm you that we readers feel like some kind of secret dork society?

Nat said...
Hello Fits,
Nice work getting Jess McGuire and penetrative docking into this weeks GG column.
My question, I'm pretty sure you've mentioned before on here that you don't smoke, have never smoked in fact? Can you clarify?
Thx

Thanking you, Nat. It's a pleasure to extend the knowledge of penetrative docking to the wider public. I wonder how many Age readers took it upon themselves to google that particular term yesterday?

With regards to the smoking - no, I don't. I've never smoked a cigarette, though I occasionally smoked pot as a wayward teen. I take no issue with those who do - indeed, have fallen in love with a couple. Having said that, I'm very much looking forward to July 1st when I'll be able to take in musical acts at the Tote without coming home smelling like I've rolled butt-naked in a vat of Winfield Blues.

Rustique said...
G'day Fits,

Three things if I may be so bold:

1. May I use your blog to thank a fellow poster who appears to be blogless? If so: thanks to Easily Confused for her advice a few weeks ago on Jeanette Winterson - very much enjoyed 'Lighthouse Keeping'

2. May I also give a word of advice to everyone in bloggoland re the procession of rabid/unhinged/misguided folk who feel the need to abuse the esteemed blogstress of RYWHM? Don't give them the time of day. I reckon if you ignore them they will become more abusive in an attempt to get a response but eventually they will just go away. The old adage "only a fool would waste time arguing with a fool" springs to mind. Be the bigger persons you all assuredly* are.

3. As I haven't really asked you any "real" Friday questions yet: what colour would you call the Simpsons family sedan? Is it purple or pink? Being the productive member of society that I am I have argued the point with a friend numerous times.

Finally, much kudos and affectionate arm rubbings to you on the Friday Q&A - love it.

*hopes that's a word

1. Yes. Yes you may.

2. I'd probably agree with you there, Rustique. Each of us to our own though, I guess.

3. I'd say pink. Does this mean we're still friends?

p.s. Your new literary advisor has something to say to you:

Easily Confused said...
Hi Rustique I'm glad you enjoyed some Jeanette, read Written on the Body next and swoon.

Just wanted to say hello to voodooboy too being a fellow sci-fi nerd and all.

Ms Fits I hope you don't mind this use of your blog as a social space, please say if you do and I'll simmer down and get me own blog I suppose. Just love hangin' out here.

I don't mind at all. The more, the merrier.

*hums theme song from Cheers*

Oddie said...
How's it hangin'?

Low and lovely, same as always*. And you?

*this is an actual, swear-to-god dialogue exchange heard on Neighbours about nine years ago. I have no idea how they got it past the 6:30 censors, though am obviously disproportionately pleased by their success.

***********************

That's quite enough from me. I am going to throw myself into two further days of beach shack livin' before returning to Melbourne in order to race around a football field wearing hotpants and a child-size footy jumper. Ah, sweet diversity of life.

Leave your questions for next Friday in the comments below. And for god's sake, beware the Hotmail hackers. They can interrupt conversations at the most intriguing of moments...

145 days til the next election.

No particular Order.

2007-06-19T08:07:00.000+10:00

Two conversations, Friday last:

1.

Me: ( Entering dressing-room to find large amount of people crawling around on their hands and knees in front of Margaret Fulton) What on earth is going on?

Emma: Margaret's lost her brooch.

Margaret: Not my brooch, dear. My Order of Australia medal.

Me: Blimey.

Emma: Could you have left it in the taxi?

Margaret: Oh, I don't know. Perhaps.

Beat.

Margaret: Could I trouble someone for a cup of tea do you suppose?

2.

Me: ....So then an entire army of people were crawling around on the floor looking for Margaret Fulton's Order of Australia medal. It was completely bizarre.

CP: Yeah, I bet. They're easy to lose, though. My mum put hers through the washing machine.

Me: ....

CP: It was okay. Just a bit chipped.

Long pause.

CP: Her friend was given Order of Australia cufflinks and stuck one in her nose as a piercing.

Me: Does everyone else in the world have a fucking Order of Australia medal except me?

CP: Probably.

148 days til the next election.

Friday q and a #74.

2007-06-15T13:39:00.000+10:00

'Reprazentin' - as I believe Channel V hosts say nowadays - the Sydlee massive up here in perfectly rainy New South. I'm starting to enjoy my brief sojourns to Botany Bay (appeal pending), particularly when blessed with the company of charming photogropers and their pulchritudinous crew.

It'll be a half day today as I have many things to squeeze in before shutting up shop and meandering my way home to Melbourne. So sit down, shut up, and just take a fucking butchers at these finely-crafted Friday questions...

Anonymous said...
Rubbed yourself raw, eh?

Look, the original script was 'flicking myself off constantly', if you must know. I was told to improvise and I did. You can't do eleven years of salty banter on community radio and not have a useful standby of colourful metaphors to horrify your parents with, can you?

Fandom said...
" I won't be 'doing' Bob, no. There was talk of it for a while but I thought it would cross the line into I WILL COME FOR YOU AT NIGHT stalker territory so am sticking with Helen Garner. Who is this 'comedy scruff' you speak of? Do I have a nemesis? Will there be pistols at dawn? I do hope not; I fucking hate early mornings. "

Do you have a nemesis? I thought you already did... a certain green-wearing Liberal 'lady-bird'...

What do you think became of her, by the way?

Oh, poor old Miranda Airey-Branson. Presumably she's recovered from her brief period as the whipping girl of the Left and carried on to a more noble existence as a card-carrying conservative Bocce champion. I'm not sure having a two-week stoush with someone on the internet necessarily counts as a serviceable basis for a long term nemesis, though at the moment I'm sorely lacking a singularly evil enemy and really should be shopping around. Suggestions encouraged.

Cloudy said...
I was speaking of Adam Rozenbachs who I saw on the show talking about Germaine Greer and assumed that you and he were alternating in the job. And knew of each other's existance. And he looked like he'd just crawled out of a laundry hamper.

I would never judge anyone for looking like they'd just crawled out of a laundry hamper. It is my preferred way of dressing in the mornings, as should be obvious by the haphazard combinations of clothing I brave the world in. Anyway, I knew Adam Rozenbachs years ago when he had a show at Triple R but have had little to no contact with him since - we must be ships in the night at the ABC, mysterious building that it is.

Fenz said...
one of my friends was bored and scribbled on this pic, it now seems to have made its way around the interwebs... i think it's funny...

Your bored friend is very droll, Fenz. They should also be quite chuffed that a moment of lazy doodling has been so widely copied and circulated - I've received that picture in three different emails alone. I wonder if DJ Spindarella himself has had a squizz yet?

sublime-ation said...
Point 1. This is why I love Q&A, because of the 'thank god this shit doesn't just happen to ME'.

Point 2. Bags me dressed as champagne.

How exactly does one 'dress as champagne', sublime? Does it involve some kind of spritzer? I am vaguely concerned.

Anonymous said...
Why was your dog vomiting? Did you take her to the vet?

Also: I was wondering how you went about toilet training Bob Ellis?

Do you let her sleep in the bed with you?

How old is Bob Ellis?

Voila, mes questions.

1. My powers of deduction lead me to believe that Bob Ellis (canine) went to the toilet inside during the course of the evening and thought it would be cunning to try and eat the evidence. An obvious choice for most of us I'd wager, and with predictably messy results. The poor darling.

2. No, I monitored her for the rest of the day and she seemed to feel better. A Butter Menthol and a day on the couch will do you the world of good if you have an upset stomach, apparently.

3. I took her to puppy school in Scotchmer street and covered the carpets in newspaper until she was old enough to 'get it'.

4. She does sleep in the bed with me, yes. Warm as toast, I'll have you know.

5. Bob Ellis will be six years old in August.

Thank you for taking such an interest in my dog.

the frozen turnip said...
My dearest Ms Fits -

I am strangely moved by the notion that you welcome posts from those that may smell like grave robbers and am, as we speak, doing my utmost to replicate the odour of a corpse-removing individual with a penchant for bloggery. Denied as we we are the joys of interweb scratch-and-sniffery you will have to take my word for it, I stink.

I should also quickly point out that, since my initial inquiries, I have been able to confirm the photo was indeed of your positively adorable self and did only this week catch your fine work on the abba cee's "reading with dick and jane for grown-ups"

I am sure I was not alone in thinking Richard E Grant was more than a tad flirtatious no?

Anyhowness, to my irrelevant and time-wasting question(s):

1:Is it possible to arrange, perhaps through some kind of grass-roots campaign, an award for the perennially marvellous P Keating for his magnificent description of Little Johnny as a "Pre-cornucopian obscurantist" ?

It doesn't actually matter what it means does it, you just know that whatever it is it isn't going to be good? (realise this is not the most current of events but I feel it deserves an airing)

2:Is it possible that your goodly self and the Sydney-based RYWHM bloggerati could arrange to meet up in a suitably expensive and dimly-lit wine bar the next time you are here for televisual work and ply each other with extravagantly priced liqour and bar snacks and endless eloquent conversation.? What say you Ms Fits?

And I would like to suggest the following description in ref to aforementioned pee emm

strange days indeed under Johnny the Little, those barely-tamed eyebrows, that ill-controlled spittle... conjures up the perfect picture don't you think?

toodle pip

the frozen turnip

Hello, TFP. In truth I was probably encouraging one particular grave robber to send himself in my direction, but all pungent suitors are welcomed if they are polite and well-spoken. I do enjoy a certain manly tang, you know.

Anyhow.

1. An award for P.Keating and his magnificent shit-stirring? I don't see why not. He's making more song and dance than Malcolm Fraser these days, isn't he? It's as though someone's roused him from a decade-long slumber and repeatedly poked him with a cattle prod until he roared into action and started pointing out every minor thing in the political landscape that gave him the irrits.

More popcorn, anyone?

2. That may be difficult to organise, given that I'm in Sydney today and heading home tomorrow. I will, however, be back in a couple of weeks - I think around late June/early July . Bring on the extravagantly-priced liquor post-haste.

swotting said...
big friday night in, pretending to study for exams while secretly watching the footy (not so secret come to think of it - the tv is quite loud and i am sure the housemates can hear it [not the BB housemates, but the people i live with], if they're awake of course - shift workers, it's like living on mute sometimes) anyway off that digression (must remember not to get distracted by word associations like digression in a holden caulfield kind of way), and the on the ground painted logo is for a brand of big car (the seppos would call them SUVs) that's called the kluger. is it just me, or does that sound too much like kruger? which i will forever associate with south africa circa pre-20 years ago and therefore very not a good place. is it wise to name a brand of car in such a way? or is that just me? i have seen some on the road, and they were big, ugly, white, and drove around like they owned the place.
hope you have a good weekend.

Actually the first thing I thought of was Sonia Kruger - the lady with the big white teeth and filthy language who shows Daryl Somers up to be the social retard he is every time Dancing With The Stars appears on television and intellectually rapes us with its moronic razzle-dazzle. Besides which, you should be long over feeling surprised by what the bigwigs at motor companies decide to name their vehicles by now. Every time you turn around there's a new Toyota KiddieFiddler or Nissan AnalProbe, most usually behaving as monikered and ramming into children or up someone else's backside. God knows what some of these executives are smoking. I'd probably try it at least once, just for experiment's sake.

richardwatts said...
"Cursed witty and kind and sweet and gentle men. What are they playing at do you suppose?"

Our emotions, Fits. They're playing silly buggers with our emotions. And on that note, is there a particular accent that makes you weak at the knees and or tumescent/moist?

A fling early in my homosexualist experimentations seems to have programmed my brain with a predisposition for Irish accents, although I find Glaswegian and Sarf Lon'on dialects also oddly arousing. Perhaps it's just because I was exposed to too many eps of The Bill and Minder in my formative, prepubescent years?

I've not had the pleasure of holding hands with too many accented men, though the ones who have managed to get close enough to whisper sweet brogue in my ears have certainly made me duly dizzy. I'm not sure if television is to blame exactly - perhaps it's the thrill of the traveller sweeping us up with their poetry and rain-soaked eyes and promise of damp flesh and bluestone and a Life Other Than Our Own.

D said...
I lack the verbosity to post a fitting comment tonight, so i'll just say this:

Ms Fits is grouse.

I'm totally reduced to convulsions of a drooling-fanboy-esque nature.

"Cursed witty and kind and sweet and gentle men. What are they playing at do you suppose?"

My take would be that they are probably just hoping to be thrown a figurative bone, but there you are.

Hope everyone has a great fun filled weekend! Enjoy the birthday fun :)

Grouse! There's a word I haven't heard since grade 6, and presumably then it was in reference to that sweet hoverboard Michael J Fox blazed through the town square riding in Back To The Future.

Your words are very kind. I'll be sure to 'throw bones' at length in future and see where it gets me.

Big Matt Stud said...
I have to say that this blog is always educational, although not always in a good way. I hadn't heard of the Dirty Sanchez before, and when I did find out what it was it made me want to quickly slam the back button and pretend I had never read it.

The thirst for knowledge is always a good thing though, because in the course of my research I did make some other interesting discoveries. I wonder if you are familiar with any of the following:

The Rusty Trombone, aka the Dirty Bristow*

Nyotaimori or its closely related cousin Wakamezake

Tribadism or tribbing

Penetrative docking (and this one made me cross and uncross my legs very quickly)

* I am very much amused by the idea of a sexual act being named after Eric Bristow, the Crafty Cockney

Oh dear. Presumably since you suffered at the hands of the Dirty Sanchez, we all must also be dragged kicking and screaming into the hellish pit of learning.

*sighs deeply*

'Dirty Bristow

The act of tongueing a male anus whilst reaching around to wank them off.
Name after the legendary English Darts player, Eric Bristow, as the act resembles throwing a dart.'

Wait, the act resembles throwing a dart? Which bit, the anal tonguebath or the deft hand-job? Honestly, these people need to watch more Wider World Of Sports.

'Nyotai-mori "female body presentation", refers to the practice of eating sashimi or sushi off the body of a prostrate female model, typically nude, for the purpose of sexual excitement. As a result of being served on a human body, the temperature of the sushi or sashimi comes closer to body temperature, which some may see as a downside or a benefit.

Oh, I'd call limp and warm minge-flavoured sushi a definite downside. Who wants to eat eel off a buttock, anyway? Call me old-fashioned, but I'm a bit more partial to plates.

'Tribadism is a sexual practice where two women rub their external genitalia against one another for clitoral stimulation. The act is somestimes referred to as "tribbing". Colloquially it is known as "bumping fur," scissoring, or less commonly donut bumping, slapping clams or train spotting. In ancient Chinese texts it is often called polishing mirrors.'

Quite comfortable with this one, though less likely to use the term 'donut bumping' when next inviting a lesbian partner into my bedroom.

Also: 'train spotting'? Clutching at straws there, you adorable filth-merchants.

'Penetrative docking is a variation of a standard homosexual practice in which two men masturbate their penises with the foreskin of one penis over the glans of the other. Instead of simply masturbating using the foreskins; through a long and sometimes painful process one partner, the nominated dock, enlarges his urethra and urethral sphincter to accommodate the penis of the other partner, the docker.'

AVERT YOUR EYES, CHILDREN OF RYWHM.

Dear god. Surely that can't be healthy.

Still, beats sitting through another tedious repeat of Everybody Loves Raymond I guess.

MordWa said...
At the risk of incurring your ire again, FitsWa, the adage "it's the exception that proves the rule" is in fact correct. You just have to use the term 'prove' with its original meaning - to test, or give trial by fact...
.."the exception tests the rule."

This community service announcement was brought to you by the letter 'G', the number '8', and Bill Bryson's book "Mother Tongue"

I accept what you're saying MordWa, but I stand by my irritation. Besides which, I am ably supported by the equally pedantic Ben:

Ben said...

MordWa's right about exception proves the rule, but that misses the point: nobody DOES use it in that sense. So in common modern usage, it's a stupid phrase.

Yeah, MordWa. You tell Bill Bryson nyer-nyer from me*.

*say it in a nice way though, because he seems an awfully lovely man who was charm personified when I wrote him a fan letter ten years ago.

Anonymous said...
Can you hurry up and bring PoliChicks back for the election? I'm jonesing to buy my lefty lady gear, and my enthusiasm for "Heaven/Kevin" wristbands and "Don't Rein on My Parade" racer-back singlet tops or something will surely only last another month or so. I like to get a good 5 months' wear out of my topical outfits. So get to it!

How did you know, Anon? We are currently working on at least five new products to launch in about a month's time, and will be throwing yet another of our election bashes when Our Fearless Leader decides to set a magical date. Hopefully the website will be dusted off in the next couple of weeks, so keep checking in - your wish = our command, etc.

Anonymous said...
I have been involved in a 'to and fro' interstate romance for over a year now.

He asked me to visit about a month ago. He seemed frantic to see me, and I excitably assumed that I had finally bagged him. He offered to pay half my fare. I refused.

I have since discovered that he was dating other bird life. When I asked him, if he thought it was fair that he kept this from me, he declared (like any mature thirty something would) that "the distance meant we were not boyfriend and girlfriend".

Anyway, my question is this:

Can I ask him to donate half my airfare to Amnesty International?

I would like someone to benefit from my prostitution (or rather my 'pay to be a prostitute'). Is this bitter?

'I excitably assumed that I had finally bagged him'. I absolutely love that. May I borrow it for when I next presume I've landed the affections of some worthy highbrow suitor?

Anyway, I'm sorry things with your interstate dish soured so decisively. In my experience it's far better to lay down the ground rules for an open-plan love affair relatively early in order to avoid the awkward 'Oh, but I thought we were engaged to be wed and here you are gallivanting about town with a half-dressed hussy named Lola Goodtimes'-type conversations that can occur when one beleaguered party has perhaps invested a little too much from their position 1200 kms away. I'm not sure distance instantly denotes casual relations - some wildly inventive folk manage to carry on monogamous affairs with the help of Frequent Flyer points and lascivious Skype conversations, the breathless optimists - but if your playboy is hell-bent on fraternising with others and using state lines as an excuse there's really not much you can do. Clearly you're not attached in any way to the idea of a freewheeling modern relationship (the 'prostitute' business alerted me there), though suggesting you were being flown up purely for steamy bang-sessions is hardly fair on your ex-feller. Perhaps he was dead keen on you but not ready to make the move between cities? Either way, I suggest you let things drop. Forcing someone to donate to a charity solely because you're a bit ticked off at their insensitive manner is a dangerous precedent to set - if we all follow suit I've got a handful of exes who'll soon be seen as UN ambassadors given the level of their startling generosity.

Easily Confused said...
Ms Fits,

I am SO jealous that you got to sit next to the divine Mr Grant, isn't he just the dishiest of the dishy?

At a pal's house with laptop as like many other NSWers we've had no electricity since Friday, wild and windy weather and power lines laying about on the roads. It's not so bad, me and partner have been reading at home by candlelight and eating cold baked beans and peanut butter sandwiches. This morning kindly pal who still has electricity on provided hot showers, coffee and breakfast.

My question: have you read any William Gibson? I love him to bits and pieces and am hoping you're not a "all sci-fi is crap" person, but if you are I'll still admire you from afar. You must read his exquistite poem 'Agrippa'

xx

Hello, EC.

1. Richard E Grant is very dishy, yes. Though I don't know whether he's the dishiest of dishy. Have you copped a load of the men from The Basics recently? They certainly possess a rakish charm or twelve.

2. I haven't read William Gibson yet, and am very open-minded when it comes to sci-fi literature. Can you suggest a worthy starting point?

p.s. Your storm-lashed picnic sounds unbearably sweet, in spite of the inconvenience. I hope you're keeping each other pornographically warm and out of the rain.

legs11 said...
Perhaps my using a nom de comment kept my question lost last week, so I'll try again:

A skinny bitch with a face like a foetus pashed my bloke, and then rubbed my face in it with snide MySpaz remarks. I have worked things out with him - happily, thanks - but how do I deal with the thoughts of following her to her blue-light-disco-with-booze hang out and "painting" the concrete steps or a toilet bowl '(More Than) A Hint Of Slut's Face'?

Dear me. What on earth does 'a face like a foetus' look like? Was she covered in some kind of amniotic fluid and possessed of blinky eyes?

Anyhow, I'm glad you've worked things out with your feller. I think the best kind of relationships can easily process mindless party kisses and press on with more important matters like IN WHICH EXCITING VENUE ARE WE TAKING DINNER TONIGHT ETC, so you're obviously in good shape there. As for this skanky irritant - why must people insist on broadcasting their part in an infidelic tryst to all who will listen? There's nothing worse than breathing through a partner's careless mistake only to find poor attempts at poetry posted on some temptress' Live Journal three weeks later. I agree that it tends to keep the wound slightly raw and while it may be alluring to go and bust this missy's disrespectful face in, it would only make a far greater deal out of something essentially quite small. The best advice I can give is to tear yourself away from the computer and avoid reading any of her 'work'. Focus on your love and the fact that you made it through another of life's bumpy hitch-hikes with only a couple of scratches. It helps, I promise.

Cloudy said...
Someone mentioned Polichicks. Are any plans in the works for an election night party this time?

Are the opening lines of Dan Kelly's Drunk on Election Night a reference to your '04 shindig?

I sometimes tell people that "election night is my Brownlow Medal count" only to be met with regret-inducing bewilderment or sniggers. Do you appreciate the drama of a good poll coverage or would you rather watch beefy bogans sit around in tuxedoes while someone says one, two and three a lot?

Finally: Did you take in any of this year's St Kilda Film Festival?

1. As mentioned earlier, yes. Still trying to figure out a venue/method of generating a mass suicide should fate decide to mock us.

2. I can't remember if lovely Dan was at our party or not - the evening was a bit of a blur. We tend to see the political landscape through very similar eyes and have had many impassioned conversations over bottles of red wine, so Drunk On Election Night is one of my favourite Alpha Males songs and I would like it even if he wasn't such a doe-eyed spunk.

3. I didn't, no. I am a fucking mess when it comes to film festivals. I hope I can get it together for MIFF 2007 instead of just staring dolefully at the timetable and failing to go to anything like I do every other year.

Anonymous said...
Ms Fits,

My friend recently spotted you at the Hollywood Hotel drinking with a certain ABC celebrity. Was it a hot romantic date, or does everyone at the ABC just hang out with each other all the time?

Actually, that 'certain ABC celebrity' and I were married in a private Buddhist ceremony on a beach in Vietnam over a month ago. We just haven't been able to go public about it since we're both contracted to appear as devilishly available Clooney-esque make-out artists to the wider community, and might I say we're doing a commendable job both separately and as a team.

Keep it to yourself obviously; the last thing we need is paparazzo making our life hell.

skips said...
In response to Djali's winter solstice dress code dilemma;

I, every year, hold a celebration at this time, but dress code is strictly enforced. As it marks the shortest day of the year the obvious choice of costume is-shorts.

You bastard, skips. Fancy forcing all your friends and loved ones to get about in okanuis while such biting winds blow? I hope you provide a nice fondue.

Djali said...
Hey Skip, you don't happen to be from Eltham do you? Of the old Skipper family? Winter Solstice parties seem to be all the rage around these traps.

Anyway, a solstice party update:

We've been given a theme - Music.
I know it's not very pagan of me but I'm thinking Patti Smith because I sort of have the hair for it. My friend whose mum is throwing this wild bash is going as Labrynth David Bowie in powder-blue tights because she loves him like that. I'm not sure how the more mature women and regular attendees will take to our approach on the theme but it should provide for interesting post party blog material.

*Watch out for thrilling Winter Solstice Party review coming soon!!!*

...

Oh, it just occurred to me that this might not fit into the category of a Friday question. My apologies Ms Fits.

Quite alright. You solstice attendees must be well-versed in your satanic rituals pre-party, lest social death loom.

richwell said...
Fitzy, did you see the shocking ms. silverman in 'The Aristocrats'

I didn't, though I'm dying to - despite the fact the whole concept of that film bewilders me. It's one joke told eight hundred ways, isn't it? Odd.

Anonymous said...
Don't worry about Tracy's possible funbag augmentation...the first time I spied her hosting ACA at Fed. Square I'm fairly certain I saw her lips flapping in the breeze. She looked like make up had stuck a couple of zeppelins on her face. Instantly she was transformed into just another zero cred journo.

Question....at what stage do women start thinking of such self abuse? Who is this done for generally? Does it improve self esteem or is it just plain vanity?

My advice...tell the carpet strolling executives and clipboard carrying producers to fuck off.

I really have no idea, Anon. Obviously I've got girlfriends who peer miserably in the mirror and point out exotic-looking wrinkles and handfuls of grey hair, but they seem years off taking surgical measures to deal with their woes. I can't imagine paying thousands of dollars to have a nice doctor pull your face back so tightly you look like the hovering eyeballs out of Mulligrubs would do much for anyone's self-esteem, but then I'm yet to reach the age where I'm overly concerned by Father Time and shouldn't judge others their insecurities. My mum hasn't had any work done and she has one of the most beautiful faces I've ever had the pleasure of gazing upon. Tracy Grimshaw should take note.

Anonymous said...
hey fits,
whatever has become of Clem? She hasne blogged on The Age for, well, an age, and she's even stopped doing her singles reviews... has she made good on her threat to go sit in a hut?

I do hope it's that and that she's having a lovely time, she's seemed to be rather down of late. Hugs to her from me.

Ms Bastow is taking some early retirement hours and will no doubt be utilising her time away from computers to take up Yogalates and swing dancing. I will be sure to pass on your warm embracings at her birthday bash in a couple of weeks' time.

fixter said...
Dear Fits,
Saw that utterly adorable photo of your good self with young Master Pekin in The Age. Seven shades of cute!! He clearly had blogging ambitions (or suchlike) he was writing for the aforementioned august publication a year or so back. Did you read any of his entertaining columns in the sports section and why did he not think to post that picture of his number one fan (and soon to be newspaper stablemate)? Keep up your sparkling work which brings light to our online lives.

I have read many of Tim's columns, as well as his lovely poetry. He's planning to write a book of short stories soon, too. I'm not sure why he hadn't thought of posting that incredibly awkward photograph of the two of us looking like socially gauche wallflowers - perhaps he was considering retaining his dignity.

Otter said...
Hey Fits,

A friend of mine spotted you having a coffee with a certain football journo and there seemed to be a bit of chemistry in the air! How long has this been going on? Is that why you are writing so many football related pieces? I can recall 3 in the last couple of weeks.

And to answer your question from a couple of weeks ago, yes I have recovered from my induced coma. The only lasting legacy of the accident is that one of my legs is about an inch shorter than the other so I have to wear an insert in one of my shoes. Kind of like Tom Cruise but without the crazy.
Warmest
Otter

Wtf is up with you people and all the spying on my dates? I've copped my last illicit groping underneath a restaurant table, clearly.

To be perfectly honest with you, I have been racking my brain trying to recall who exactly you're referring to and can't figure it out for the life of me. Which football journo? Where? You'd think I might remember given there was so much 'chemistry' between us but I'm a busy lady and clearly my schedule doesn't permit lingering sentimentality. Are you sure your friend wasn't thinking of Stephanie Mcintosh? We're often mistaken for each other.

Anonymous said...
Ms Fits!
Your blog and Frankie bits are a delight. [My inapproriate crushes include Artemis Fowl(fictional, 11 years old in the first book) and Larry Emdur] As soon as I get to Melbourne I will be sure to pick up The Age, too.
My question/dilemma is:
My parents are the smothering/ridiculously overprotective type, and firmly oppose anything resembling teenage frivolity. My mother in particular is deeply suspicious of any relationships (all of which have been totally plantonic) with males, to the point where she has called up parents to ensure we sleep in seperate rooms when I stay over with any of them so I won't be forcefully deflowered. The old "It's not you we distrust, it's everyone else" adage is trotted out whenever I propose venturing outside a 30km radius of the house with or without comrades, after 6pm. After spending the last few years of my teenagery more or less resigned to their domineering, I've had quite enough. For the few remaining months of my seventeenth year, is it worth the (semi-futile) conflict, or should I just wait it out and come home naked with needles stuck in my arms and a cocaine moustache the morning after my 18th, just for kicks? What, if anything, can be said/done to convince them to loosen the shackles?
P.S. I love your dresses on Book Club.
x

Seventeen, Anon? Good gravy. I certainly had over-protective parents for a while too, but when they realised they couldn't keep a leash on a my pubescent rabies they sent me out into the world to fend for myself. I was living in a share house at age sixteen and up to all kinds of no good, though sorted myself out relatively quickly and by the age of nineteen was a halfway normal person, a state which I have maintained with varying success since. I pushed my poor folks to breaking point with the whole 'sneaking out of windows to see older boyfriends named Buzz' thing and can recall more than one physical tussle with my exhausted mother - a tactic I wouldn't recommend if you don't want to spend the rest of your life apologising for being a precocious and pushy little bastard (trust me on this one).

I guess if you're prepared for the conflict, then your folks may have to get used to you setting some new boundaries. You sound like you're relatively sensible of your own accord (what with all these chastely platonic male friends) and if bracing mum and dad for the real world involves the odd defiant THAT'S IT I'M OFF FOR THE EVENING, then so be it. Take it slow, keep explaining to them that you're almost an adult and will be making some decisions for yourself from now on and if they don't like it they can just send you to Boot Camp like all the parents of tearaways on Maury Povich.

p.s. 'Cocaine moustache'? You are marvellous.

Anonymous said...
I was hoping to go to the Bowerbirds' EP launch on Friday night, only to find that Fibbers has lost its licence and was closed that night. Word on the street is that neighbours had been regularly complaining about noise ...

I think we should set up a community organisation called "SSNAG" (or Smith Street Noise Advocacy Group). Obvious candidates for the role of SNAG President are the people who own Blue Tiles, the security guard at Safeway, the shouty man with the two dogs, the "creative insulter" young woman and the odd "client" of DHS.

Would you be interested in joining?

1. The lovely Bowerbirds still had their launch on Friday - it was just shifted to the Cobra Bar. Squeezy and full of handsomeness it was, too.

2. I'm all for SSNAG membership, not least because I love shouting. Where do I sign?

Djali said...
Friday Question:

Is that how you spell Labrynth?...Labrinth...Laberynth..Labirynth...lab...

What's wrong with me, I feel so ashamed, does this ever happen to you?

It's 'Labyrinth'. And please don't be ashamed, that kind of shit happens to me all the time. If I could carry 'spelling.com' and 'thesaurus.com' around with me in some kind of yet-to-be-invented space-age cerebral backpack I would.

Anonymous said...
Hi,

I stumbled on your blog maybe 18 months ago when somebody left it open at work, some clever pisstake of Dubya from memory, and ever since I've been checking in from time to time in search of a laugh/while wasting time when I should be working, but I've never posted a question. It's because of a fairly unremarkable coincidence that I'm doing it now. Like everyone I eventually discovered your identity beyond blogging as you got semi-famous.

In February I started a new job as a sub-editor at the Age, and last week I subbed your piece for A2 about Tim Pekin. Subbing is weird, because 1) I'm more used to writing my own stuff, and 2) I'm constantly playing around with and changing other people's words without any personal correspondence with them. So how did you rate the experience of being subbed by me? Did you love/hate my headline and precede, etc? And how do you feel about having your work subbed in general? Just curious, it's such an impersonal collaboration between writer and sub-editor, this whole newspaper-making thing.

Oh, this is a nice state of affairs. I've only ever met one other sub-editor of mine and it was in the front bar of the Napier where from memory we drank too much wine and started poking at each other in the shoulder in order to make various conversational points, which passed the time in any case.

I always feel slightly sorry for whoever has to sub my mawkishly sentimental ramblings or Thursday puff pieces as I tend to throw most grammar rules out the window and just tap away at embarrassingly long sentences that make people reading require a packed lunch and a thermos of tea simply to get through unscathed JUST LIKE THIS ONE YOU SEE. For the most part I look forward to seeing exactly what kind of interesting heading someone wiser than me will have whacked on to a column (the most wildly inventive being the GG's 'D'oh! Family Guy Is My Fancy Lady', which to this day still puzzles me) and from memory I loved what you wrote about Tim and I and feel it captured the word-mood perfectly. I thank you, and hope to repay you one day with a large drink and accompanying poke in the shoulder.

Ben said...
I took longer than usual to read your answers this week: I was busy making you a cake on the off-chance you'd put on a concert for me, and writing a new song called "All My MySpace Friends Are Porn Stars".

I fucking hate Fifi Box. And Tracy Grimshaw.

Oh, and know what else pisses me off? People who can't distinguish between ordinary abbreviations and acronyms.

I used to work as a scriptwriter for a corporate training video company, and some of their old old videos were presented by the Brand Power lady. She looked exactly the same 20 years ago as she does now.

(I didn't write scripts for those ones: I would have been 8 20 years ago, and as far as I could tell, the 1980s videos were written by people far younger than that)

I'm a bit scared of Sarah Silverman. I have a vision of one day meeting her and saying, "I'm a comedian too!" and she would look at me with undisguised loathing and say, "Yeah, good. Now fuck off."

I just came across the most pun-intensive one-word description for a product ever devised: "Funbelievabubble". Gorgeous, isn't it?

Who do you prefer, Sid James or Kenneth Williams? In an artistic slash comedic sense, I mean. Although feel free to ranik their sexual allures if the mood strikes you.

I am so happy that you hate Robyn Riley and Lillian Frank. "I'm looking forward to the evening so much, Lil" oh fuck off. I am, yes, happy about this. Are you happy?

I have Hi-5 songs stuck in my head. It's terrible. Have you ever noticed a subtle yet powerful undercurrent of raw sexuality pulsing throughout their whole act? Particularly Kathleen.

Always nice chatting with you, Ben. Let's address these one at a time (the best way, I feel. All at once can be unbelievably tiresome):

1. 'Funbelieveabubble' is gorgeous, yes. But I fear you've been beaten to the punch:

'Hubba Bubba Max replaces Mix ‘n’ Match Strawberry & Vanilla and the limited edition Hubba Bubba Colours. The launch will be supported with POS materials for retailers and an extensive media support package, including a ‘funbelieveabubble’ new TV commercial to drive interest and trial in the new product.'

Those fucking Hubba Bubba bastards. WILL THEY STOP AT NOTHING.

2. I think I'm more a Kenneth Williams fan, mostly for his connection to playwright Joe Orton (I obsessed over the Orton Diaries as a 'confused' teenager) and terribly tortured existence - which always makes for good reading when the biogs are churned out.

p.s. What's John Inman, chopped liver?

3. Very happy. I actually play a private game every Saturday morning when Lil's column is released to see how many times she can pretend she's had a conversation with someone famous and they've referred to her by name. You always know you're going to have a good weekend when you find at least two 'Lillian''s and a 'Lil' in there somewhere.

4. Indeed I have. The last time I watched Hi-5 was at four o'clock in the morning with a lovely man who had never seen it before. He was duly aroused. So there you go.

Suave The Cat said...
Hi Rizzo(as per your request in last wek's Q and A),

A couple of brief questions:

1 - Just wondering if you have ever come across a funnier Christopher Walken impression? (and if this old news to the more hipper internet types, sue me if you've seen this already).

2 – Some time ago, you mentioned that you had been invited to an AFL game. My question is: did you take up the invite and if so, your thoughts on “the great game”?

Suave.

1. I haven't actually come across that many Christopher Walken impressions generally. Perhaps I move in the wrong circles. So no is the answer to your question.

2. Oh, I've been to a few AFL games over the past few years. I love the game itself and the rituals that go hand-in-hand with a day out at the football (squeezy train trips, hot pies, swearing in public) - it's just hard to get overly excited when you only know the nicknames of two players in the team and you don't want to sound like a ninny shouting for Number 7 To Kick It.

I like going to see country football. I like parking my van up against the boundary and beeping the horn madly at odd intervals. It makes me feel good. Stop judging me.

waldorf said...
Robyn Riley, now there's a face like a bulldog chewing wasps. I'd like to see Legs11 paint the bowl red with her cracked head after another boyfriend pash attack (sorry L11, but I think you're the only one here strong enough to take her down; the simple-minded ((eg Riley)) are surprisingly strong).
My Q is a writerly one:
What sort of time management do you do to get your ever-expanding list of jobs done?

I am awful at time management, waldorf. Fucking heinous. I spend half my day drafting flirtatious emails to boys and listening dreamily to music on myspace, and the other half roaming the streets in a daze. Somehow it all gets done - I guess because the moments when I do finally concentrate, I commit like a motherfucker and throw myself at the computer with gusto. If it helps, I guess I do sit at my laptop for most of the day and try not to put on the television or allow wine-carrying visitors during 'work hours' - though as ever, these hours are flexible and if a particularly nice friend decides to take me to the movies at two o'clock on a Thursday then who am I to stop them?

Anonymous said...
Happy Friday gorgeous Fitster,
Firstly, while I have no opinion one way or the other on Catherine, I have to say - private schools are EVIL.
It's scary how many people are just dying to send their little darlings off to some horrendously expensive venue to have them emotionally scarred and their little minds filled with the rankest of crypto-fascist, neo-conservative filth.
Believe me, I know - my beloved spent his delicate formative years in one of those institutions, where his parents paid five figure sums per year to have him told things like "the Holocaust couldn't possibly have happened because everyone KNOWS you can't make soap out of human fat!" by his science teachers, and stuffed into a cricket bag and hung out of a second floor window by older boys. =p
Anyway, my question is more personal in nature.
I have a friend, who is a delightful, if occasionally eccentric individual. She's sweet natured, funny, generous, loving, non-judgemental...basically all the things you want in a bestie.
(The eccentricities are not what I worry about, tho. I'm not exactly 'normal' myself, and I'd rather hang out with people who don't feel the need to adhere to convention anyway. =)
What I'm worried about is her looks.
I know that sounds terrible but it's really not.
What troubles me is that she's got an unfortunate orthodontic problem that pretty much prevents any man looking at her twice.
To have it fixed, she'd have to have major surgery, which she's a little afraid of, so she's been putting it off for almost 10 years now.
Personally, I couldn't care less what she looks like - she's the sister of my heart, and I adore her.
But she was recently crushed by a guy who blew her off, and that hurts me, since I know it was because of the way she looks, and I can't tell her that, because she's already had her self-esteem shredded by this jerk.
I, and all of our little group, have trotted out the trusty lines like "you were too good for him anyway" (she was) and "you'll find a better guy, you just have to put yourself out there."
But it's starting to ring a little hollow.
We're all old enough to have realised the harsh truth that while a man may end up loving you because you're a fabulous, charming individual, he's initially interested in you because of the way you look. (It's evolutionary biology - not their fault.)
And the way she looks now, no decent guy is going to be interested in her, and I'll be damned if I let her settle for less.
I feel terrible because like most of our friends, I'm happily ensconced in couple dom, and I know she's lonely and feels left out.
It's frustrating because I know that she's hurting, and I know how to fix it, but I can't make her do it, and I don't know how to make her see that she needs to get the work done, if only to give her self-esteem a boost, without making her feel ugly or that she's not a wonderful person the way she is.

I went to a private school myself for a few years (no, really? Fits, you shock us with your candour etc) and concur that they are breeding grounds for cuntiness and I was lucky to escape with my dignity relatively intact. To this day I am glad I was able to sample 'both' types of education as it means I can stun dinner parties into silence by passing off pompous grass-roots opinions and making people think I'm clever/experienced in the ways of the world. Obviously it also gives me the authority to address your pressing social conundrum which I will start doing by asking WHAT THE DEVIL KIND OF ORTHODONTIC ISSUE ARE WE REFERRING TO HERE.

Is she missing a front tooth? Does she have a diastema* so wide you can stick three fingers in it and have room to move? Can she silence a room full of onlookers with a shy smile? I NEED DETAILS.

Anyway, I'm struggling to really get a grip on your query. For one thing, it makes me now question exactly what my friends mean when they say 'he sounds like a total jerk anyway'. Imagine not realising that everyone you know feels sorry for you because you're so odd-looking you can't keep a feller's attention without slipping him a mickey finn. To be honest, I'm pretty sure I'd prefer to live in ignorance for the rest of my lonely life rather than face an intervention of kindly friends with concerned frowns sitting me down and telling me that if I want to get laid I'd better address that unsightly birthmark asap and by the way they've passed the hat around to help pay for the surgery.

You say you're crazy about the 'sister of your heart' because she's perfect in every other way, and presumably some catch of a chap will see all those things one day and offer himself up as her sweetheart. In the interim, focus less on her dental eccentricities and more on being a worthy friend. These things have a habit of working themselves out eventually.

*My Gabi is an obsessive fan of these if you're buying.

Marmalade said...
Dear Gruppen-Fitser,

I understand your spine-creasing love for A Confederacy Of Dunces, but can you elucidate the rest of us as to what particularly girds your loins for John Kennedy Toole? My best friend also worships the book, and I feel like I'm missing out, even when I read all of Ignatius' dialogue to myself in Comic Book Guy's voice.

It just didn't shake my tree like Steinbeck or Greene. Help?

Also to Easily Confused, does anything authored by William Gibson stand up to Neuromancer? Pattern Recognition was pants and has put me off him a bit.

Cheers.

ps was the footbal journo Otter's mate saw you playing table footsie with the Hun's Mark Robinson ? You sly dog/ he's a keeper/ he'll look after you real nice etc.

My dad's not much of a fan of A Confederacy Of Dunces either, and I still think he's pretty marvellous. It's hard really to pinpoint what it is that stirs so decisively about John Kennedy Toole's masterpiece - only that to me, discovering it was like reading Catch-22 for the first time...that moment when you alight upon a novel and it's stylistically unlike anything you've ever read before and you find yourself looking up from each page with wild eyes and a certain disbelief that the world is still able to carry on around you when such literature exists. I get drunk from Toole's deft use of language, and the pompously insane dialogue which the characters use to address each other. The prose makes my fingers tight and my liver twisted. Every time I open up the front cover I want to weep with pleasure and send thanks to the weighty gods of words for sending such a novel my way.

Still. Each to their own I guess.

p.s. re: Gibson:

Easily Confused said...
Hello Marmalade,

"Also to Easily Confused, does anything authored by William Gibson stand up to Neuromancer? Pattern Recognition was pants and has put me off him a bit."

Well I dunno about pants but Pattern Recognition isn't a fave, though I enjoyed it very much.

My favourite from the two series Gibson has written: The Sprawl series- Neuromancer, Count Zero, Mona Lisa Overdrive and the Bridge Trilogy- Virtual Light, Idoru, All Tomorrow's Parties....would have to be All Tomorrow's Parties. I love Neuromancer, but ATP is just brilliant.

I also have a soft spot for Count Zero for introducing me to the fabulous work of Joseph Cornell:
http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/cornell/

/RYWHM Book Meet.

Anonymous said...
fitsalicious,

you may be interested in david chase's first post sopranos interview....

any thoughts on the finale?

I had a long conversation with someone over coffee the other morning about the ambiguous Sopranos ending, and we both agreed it was a perfect way to end something that people would have been jacked off about no matter which way you played it. I'm a big fan of the ol' 'cut abruptly to black' technique and love that a television show can be switched off and subsequently discussed and argued over for hours. Mr. Chase, RYWHM salutes you.

jctrue said...
dear lovely mh

thank you so much for being so generous to me in answering my questions.

i would love to know what you fallback cook at home meal is? my friend and i cook often and find that a hearty risotto often involving mushrooms is ours. by the way do you cook? i hear you often refer to a lovely meal out reading a book but do you ever do the meal in?

also. on the last episode of ftbc my friend and i noticed how much you talked with passion about both books. is it our imagination that the show is heavily edited so we may miss out on your lovely musings during other shows?

i missed the first tuesday porno book club on chasers war on everything. is there any chance of it being shown again?

have a lovely weekend.

Hello jctrue.

i) I'm afraid I don't often cook in my wee little bachelor pad as I tend to use the evenings to break the day's silence and venture out into the wider world for sustenance and companionship. If pressed I'll most likely bake some salmon or do an 'all-in' paella - the usual palaver.

ii) The book show is of course edited - we shoot about 45 minutes worth of banter and it's cut down to suit. If you haven't heard me waxing lyrical about many novels in the past it's probably because I haven't been as excited about other books like I was about Vonnegut and Amis. If they let me bring Confederacy or Ask The Dust or Bliss on some time in the near future I may keel over facefirst into Jennifer's lap.

iii) From memory the Chaser is repeated during the week at various times - you'll have to check their website.

BEVIS said...
Okay, enough rot from all these other people - let's get back to what the public really wants: Me.

Is it alright with you that I neglected to respond to your wonderfully sculptured replies last week to my questions from the week before? Have I lost you there? Well, allow me to reply to them now, albeit a week late ...

"1. It's not too early to return to the madness. I think you timed it perfectly, just quietly."

Lovely. And maybe this 'once every two weeks' for full-on questions would be the way to go, leaving me to make the occasional comment only in the alternate weeks. Or am I spending too much time thinking about this, do you think?

"2. I shall be making the leap into pornographic websites some time in the next five years, when the important bits 'head south'. I wouldn't save my money if I were you; it's not going to be worth it in any way whatsoever."

Oh, you! Nobody believes that for a moment. But I'll leave the subject alone now.

"3. I didn't realise that, no. And yes, it does make you a very good friend with an abnormally sharp memory."

*blushes*

"6. Do you work for a private health insurance agent, Bevis? I am starting to detect what's known in the business as a 'hard sell'."

No, I'm just a bit bewildered by how many blue and green umbrellas they used for the ads, and how much money was wasted printing big white letters on them that said things like: "40% covered" and "25% excess" and "Believes the sky will fall on her head".

"7. I can hardly make our your last jumble of questions but it would appear you're asking me to walk around town holding a barren womb over my head which I must say is somewhat graphic and borderlining on poor taste."

That's just my charm.

Hi Bevis.

*waves*

BEVIS said...
And now for some new questions:

I saw Cotton's AAMI commercial on TV this week. How long ago did he film it? Did he enjoy working with the little red-headed girl? Was she unbearable? What's it like to be driving in an ad? Is there extra pressure on you that other people are scrutinising your driving style? (Or wasn't he really driving the car? No wait, don't tell me - that'll spoil the magic.

Okay, tell me.) Is it okay that these questions are all for Cotton, rather than yourself? You seem to be spotted in pubs and breakfast joints with him on a regular occasion, that's all, so I figure you can ask him these questions for me.

I NEEDS TO KNOW.

How are your parents? Are they well? Please tell them I said hi, even though they've never met me. Say it casually, like they should know who I am, and see if they pretend to know who you're talking about. If they don't tell you to say hi to me, I shall be very offended (but please don't bias the results by spoiling our little experiment).

Can I have a lollipop now?

I am very kind to you, Bevis. I actually called Cotton up and INTERRUPTED HIS HOLIDAY in order to get answers to your hard-hitting questions.

It's a wonder there's anything left of me, I give so much of myself.

So here you go, as told to me by the gentleman himself:

How long ago did he film it? - 'What was it, 3 weeks ago? Yeah, three weeks.'

Did he enjoy working with the little red-headed girl? - 'Nwoooarrrh*...look, she was pretty precocious. She asked me when I did my first professional acting gig, and I told her it was when I was about 15/16. She went on to tell me that she got her first gig at the age of three - with a sense of satisfaction.'

Was she unbearable? - 'Unbearable's too harsh for me.'

What's it like to be driving in an ad? - 'Scary, as I don't have a licence.'

Is there extra pressure on you that other people are scrutinising your driving style?- 'Driving style? I didn't know there was a driving style.'

You know you can always go visit his blog and ask him directly? Just saying.

As for your other questions:

My parents are exceptionally well, and send their love. Obviously they have no idea who you are but they are very polite souls at heart. Where do you think I get my nice manners? Now sit down and suck it**.

* Ed's note - this sound denotes what is known in conversational circles as 'out-loud non-committal thinking time'.

** The lollipop of course ROFLMAO.

Big Matt Stud said...
jctrue, YouTube is your friend here. You can see the First Tuesday Porno Club here

Ms Fits, when you first watched Withnail and I, did you ever imagine that Richard E. Grant would ask you if you liked a shaved minge ?

I think I've asked you this question before, but was this one of those points where you stop and think "How did I get here ?"

I'm fairly certain that as a teenage devotee of Withnail and I the first thought that crossed my mind upon completing viewing wasn't 'can't wait for another fifteen years when that man speaks filth to me on television'. Funnily enough, I was possibly more inclined to tug at the sleeves of the fate-gods in utter bewilderment when 'in make-up' with Germaine Greer. You try having your nose powdered at the same time as that intellectual heavyweight. Good lord.

Laura said...
what's happened to Your Wedding Night?

Sadly Your Wedding Night are no more, as Kellie has disappeared overseas to make tonka toy music with Acupuncture in Carnegie and can't commit to regular rehearsals. Fear not, though - Gen has teamed up with Triple R's own Glenny G and foxy Gooshy (of Vandas and the ever-handsome Gentlemen of Fortune fame) and will no doubt be busting out some bitching riffs for us in the near future.

Anonymous said...
ooh la la!

The picture at number two is my favorite, et vu?

http://www.20minutes.fr/diaporama/105-1-0-Cyclonudistes.php

ah, nude protesting. its just so darn wholesome, and well, odd and enjoyable.

Have you ever protested in the nude? What was/would be the suitable occasion for such display in your opinion?

mydogmo

I can't say I've ever stripped off in the name of protest, though I'd give my right arm to be known professionally as a 'cyclonudiste'. I do, however, worry terribly about the state of these men's genitals:

Look at the fellow on the far right! He's going to do himself an injury.

I'm not averse to public nudity, and would most likely get my gear off for most good causes if I was asked nicely and perhaps given a sticky bun at day's end. For the past seven years I have been participating in the Best of the Brat Stripathon, which involves myself and my radio co-hosts taking off an article of clothing for every subscriber while scores of drunken friends and hangers-on peer through the glass and take photographs of us. It makes for hideous radio, as you might imagine.

I'm not Craig said...
My photocopier keeps saying "Toner Low".

Do you think this would be a good name for a Tone Loc tribute band?

If not, what should I call this group?

I think it's an excellent name for a Tone Loc tribute band, though I fear for the length of the set list. Once you got through Funky Cold Medina and Wild Thing, you'd be hard pressed to keep the crowd's attention. You might want to consider combining genres/artists - Tony Toni Tone Loc, or Tone Locomotion - the world's only Tone Loc/Kylie Minogue crossover covers band.

The Other Ben said...
Hiya Ms Fits,

I'm hoping this makes this week's cut.

I've never met you or seen any adult photos of you, but at around 10pm Saturday the 9th, this hottie walks into Palookaville, Brunswick Street, and I just had this feeling it was you. Was it?

Aforementioned hottie gave me one look (I was seated quite near the gallery door), dropped her head with a small, shy smile, and walked upstairs to what I thought was the gallery. I wandered upstairs a while later (I only wanted to say 'Hi' and offer to buy you -- or so I thought -- a drink) but this person had disappeared. There were no trap doors in sight; I checked. I've been scratching my dome ever since. If that was you would you mind putting me out of my misery? Also, in case I happen to stumble across you at some joint in my beloved Fitzroy, would you be offended if a total stranger (and a real fan, I might add) came over, stuttered "Hello" and offered to get you the poison of your choice?

As an aside, how're you bearing up what with the revved up vitriol from some posters of late?

I was certainly at Palookaville last Saturday night if that's what you're asking, though I can't necessarily lay claim to being a 'hottie' as there appeared to be an overabundance of teenage girls in scanties milling about (one of them had festively accessorised using her own vomit, interestingly). The toilets are also upstairs - from memory I was in there for all of three minutes before heading back downstairs and staring at Gotye for longer than was healthy. Thus the evening progressed.

Please do say hello next time, and yes - I respond very warmly to free poison. At your service, etc.

The Other Ben said...
oh dear god,

I meant photos of you as an adult!

I don't mind. I knew what you meant. Besides which, if you want to see 'adult photos' of me you only need to find back issues of Picture magazine.

*********************

An early one today. I must be off to roam the corridors of the ABC and pretend I've never met my husband if we bump into each other. Life can be torturous that way.

Leave your questions for next week in the comments below. And vale The Spanish Club - many precious finger-squeezing memories linger.

152 days til the next election.

Big Trouble in Little Blogsville.

2007-06-14T09:10:00.000+10:00

"I've been mulling my decision for months and the truth is I'm really thrilled . . . to have made it.

"I've worked for the one company for 16 years since I joined as a 19-year-old, and it's time for me to try something else.

"I'm leaving my options open, but I'll do some travel, spend more time with my two kids, do more writing and set up a blog."

NO MIA NO

NO MIA NO

NOOOOOOOOOOO MIA

153 days til the next election.

p.s. The headline for the Sun article about The Catch-Up axing was - I shit you not - 'EDDIE'S ANGELS HAVE BAD AIR DAY'.

Who gets paid to come up with these things? And why have they not been shot on sight?

Big house manners.

2007-06-13T16:24:00.000+10:00

This morning I interviewed a nice lady who was jailed for 17 years - five of those on death row - for a crime she didn't commit. Here are some things I thankfully refrained from saying to her*.

1. 'I like what you've done with your hair. Did your stylist do it that way in priz?'

2. 'Do you think a nation lost its innocence the day Paris Hilton was returned to jail?'

3. 'BOO!'

4. 'So....seventeen years behind bars and totally innocent. ( long pause) Shit happens, eh?'

5. 'Did it freak you out knowing that when you were incarcerated Elton John was straight and when you were released he was homo? Or was it something you had always quietly suspected?'

* Really, what can you say to someone who has been through something so intense? Just go buy her book, for fuck's.

154 days til the next election.

Dating lingo #101.

2007-06-12T10:02:00.000+10:00

Here are some new terms which may be helpful for you if you're on the dating circuit, people.

Me: So have you got any spot fires* burning at the moment?

Tony: Oh, a couple. Had one girl go kind of Ash Wednesday**, so I've doused the flames a bit there.

Gen: I've got nothing. Total fire ban.***

Pat: Did you cross the counter**** with your HC*****?

Me: I asked him out. I think he might have a girlfriend though.

Tony: Happy to run interference****** if it helps.

Me: You're such a team player.

Tony: Whatever it takes. I live to give.

*****************************

* Spot fires - Crushes, potential paramours. It's possible to have more than one 'burning' on any given evening.

** Ash Wednesday - Committed relationship.

*** Total Fire Ban - No action/nil by mouth, etc. Obvious, when you think about it.

**** Cross the counter - Take a step towards making a Hospitality Crush a real-life possibility. Usually involves heavy petting.

***** HC - Hospitality Crush, clearly. Attractive person who makes coffee/pours wine and turns you into an idiot when they smile.

****** Run interference - Take devilish steps towards breaking up someone else's relationship. NB. This kind of behaviour is morally bankrupt and should not be encouraged.

p.s. Yes, my friends really do sit around talking like this. We are very lonely/retarded.

155 days til the next election.