Friday song

Because I'm so busy now I'm a Capitalist Empire Building Pig in addition to Struggling Literary Fiction Writer Who No One Wants to Publish (but I won't give up, oh no), I will have to intersperse the already sparsely-appearing '80s Diaramas with Some Music that can be Easily Posted.

To launch this new Friday approach, a piece from a blogger 'acquaintance' who I've never met but whose prose and poetry I fell in love with back in oh around 2005. I don't listen to a lot of music at all, I like quiet and silence when I go about my day. But I love this .

I give you The Gypsy Curse [http://www.facebook.com/thegypsycurse]:

the fifteen-year-old girl in me

Nota bene: hussar jacket a la Adam Ant
























The 15-year-old girl who still lives inside of me says YES to Reece Mastin



























She also says YES to Johnny Johnny Whoops Johnny Ruffo


















Perhaps not unsurprisingly, she says NO to Nut Man, aka Andrew Wishart. But the 40+ woman that I am also says NO to NM.



*

Good news is that I can watch this tripe again next year (as long as Mel B and Guy Seb are on it. Don't care if they lose NatBass, she is mad as a cut snake. Ronan was a bit meh. But I'd take either of those two over that Sandilands fuck.) I had made a Henchard vow that if Nut Man won I would 'never watch the show again*.'

Apologies to Alex for not doing many posts. Maybe next year. I think it was maybe because Hug Man stopped being so huggy, and after the auditions it wasn't that funny.




* I've never watched it before, either.

Vanilla Ice?

This morning in the rain, heading back from Seaford (don't ask, long story) I passed the Chelsea Heights Hotel.

Their billboard said:

James Reyne

Richard Clapton

Shannon Noll

Vanilla Ice

It's almost like one of those IQ tests - pick the odd one out, you know like: rabbit horse zombie cow.

Reyne and Clapton are fitting, Shannon Noll sorta kinda but Vanilla Ice is just sad.


If I was an ageing rock-star I would seriously not play at the Chelsea Heights Hotel. I would take up a completely different job if I had to earn money and then play music as a hobby.

Wouldn't you?

desperate call out to the people of melbourne

I have been trying for ages to find out where to get pubic hair dyed.

I have googled and googled.

I am hoping that, like in 2006, I have a few more passersby than just Alex who might pop in and offer suggestions. The post above was when I was looking for the best haircutter in Melbourne and funnily enough it came up on page 2 of google returns when I googled 'pubic hair dying melbourne salons': the reason, Grant Edmunds's comment.

So, I know there's a product called Betty Beauty but it's a DIY and I don't want to DIY. Surely, in this world where everything can be waxed and I can quite easily get my anus bleached, someone out there is prepared to breathe life (!) into my pubic hair?

Surely I'm not the only person who is in need of such a service? Guaranteed, if anyone wanted to open a business specialising in this area I'm sure there would be heaps of customers; people who just want to dzus (sp?) it up a little, women who are grey, men who are grey, society matrons who are grey. What do all the women who have botox, spend heaps on colouring their roots, clothes, makeup etc. Are you telling me they are walking around with grey snatches? I think not.

Or is the brazilian what people are using to deal with this issue?

I leave it with you. Have a good weekend.