Jade Rehder

• Posts

  Posts

  Audio

  Profile
  • [Flash 10 is required to watch video.]

    May 07, 12

    The Beastie Boys lost Chappelle’s Show performance. Best part is at 1:41 when Dave does the ‘mmmmDrop!’

  • May 04, 12

    RIP Adam Yauch aka MCA of the fabulous Beastie Boys. 

    He is survived by his wife Dechen, and daughter Tenzin (pictured).

  • Apr 13, 12

    Alexander Wang x Die Antwoord

  • Apr 13, 12

    Spongebob got that Air Yeezy hookup

  • Mar 24, 12

    Hypnotic.

  • Mar 24, 12

    Husband. 

  • Jan 08, 12

    I love ballet. 

  • Jan 05, 12

    Dudes that wear Hermes belts. #WANT. 

  • Dec 25, 11

    Yeah, another ‘Ye post.

  • Dec 25, 11
  • Dec 17, 11

    suicideblonde:

    Olga Shearer photographed by Tim Walker in 2007

  • [Flash 10 is required to watch video.]

    Dec 11, 11

    Inside Chloe Sevigny’s wardrobe. Opening Ceremony love. 

  • Nov 26, 11

    When political and fashion royalty collide. The marriage of David Lauren (son of designer Ralph) to Lauren Bush (niece of George W). 
    
    That makes her married name Lauren Lauren. LOL. 

  • Nov 06, 11
  • Oct 31, 11

    YSL. Smokin’.

  • Oct 31, 11

    Leopard and Cartier. Death.

  • Oct 29, 11

    terrysdiary:

    Beyonce as Me

  • Oct 24, 11
  • Oct 20, 11

    The incomparable James Baldwin, with Charlton Heston, Frank Sinatra and Sidney Poitier at the Civil Rights March in Washington, 1963.

  • Aug 29, 11

    curiositycounts:

    The parkour urban meme, in an illustrated stop-motion wall flipbook – just brilliant.

  • “Old School” by MF Doom and Danger Mouse, featuring Talib Kweli The Mouse and The Mask (2005)

    10 plays
  • “So Many Nights” by The Cat Empire

    40 plays
  • “Tiger” by Maximum Balloon & Aku

    0 plays
• Posts

  Posts

  Profile
  • Fan Royal

    May 06, 12

    
    

    On the morning of May 5th, I found out Adam Yauch, MCA from the Beastie Boys had finally succumbed to the cancer that had plagued him for the past 3 years. He was 47, and a musician, rapper, director, husband, father, Buddhist and vegan.
    
    My first brush with the Beastie Boys was the video for “So What’cha Want” from the Check Your Head album. I remember thinking “who the hell are these guys?” and being blown away by the rawness of the lyrics, and not quite ‘getting it’. It sounded like punk, but they were rapping? From that moment I was in, in deeeeep. Music transforms a person, especially when you’re 14 and in that awkward ‘I’m not a kid, but I’m too scared to pretend to be an adult’ stage. I think if everybody thought about their favourite bands, it will have come to you when you were a teen.  Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Pulp also made a home in my psyche during this time.
    
    Remember in the 90’s, when music and fandom was a slow process? Nowadays, if you hear a song on an ad, you can shazam it, then download an entire discography, all before letting your tea get cold. Back then, an obsession was a slow, glacial evolution. Internet was around, but not as widely used. Especially not for me, a punk kid living in the northern suburbs of Brisbane. I liked them because they were ‘cool’. I liked them because they were white, and sort of geeky, but didn’t care what they looked like; they were having a damn good time. I liked their lyrics, which were fun, but based in their life, and much more relatable than the gangster rap of that time.
    
    Back then, if you liked a song, you had to watch Rage or Video Hits, and then maybe buy the odd Rolling Stone magazine (if Mum was feeling generous). This drip feed approach, of waiting for the next video, song, album or awards show appearance meant you could reread, rewatch, reabsorb everything, so you brought your own geeky love of it into your heart. It allowed the hooks of obsession to twist and take hold, and made you an accidental expert.
    
    I remember buying Ill Communication for $30, and swapping it for a week with my friend Nathan who had License to Ill, and burning it on to tape. Oh man, I listened to the shit out of that CD. I remember being bewildered by how good the lyrics in "Root Down" were. In fact, I still am. I remember being a smartass at a Christmas dinner by saying “If I knew it was gonna be that kind of party I would stick my dick in the mashed potatoes”. And subsequently getting grounded, which was totally worth it. I bought Adidas shelltoes because they always wore them, and looked into Buddhism and went through a ridiculous “Free Tibet!” stage.
    
    The video for "Sabotage" was made by some newcomer called Spike Jonze, and is still crazy good. They gave Public Enemy their first tour 25 years ago. Hello Nasty was a killer record, and "Intergalactic" is still a crowd pleaser. Last year's Hot Sauce Committee Part Two made many top album lists, and rightly so. The Beastie Boys grew up, but didn't, and it was still cool. I already miss them.
    
    Yauch actually passed away on Vesak Day (Buddha’s birthday), which gives a circularity to things. The only consolation I can think of is he is no longer in pain, and his study of Buddhism has in some way prepared him for this, as well as his family. I’m grateful he was able to see the Beastie Boys inducted into the Hall of Fame last year, and there has been an outpouring of love and respect from fellow artists, which is very nice. I don’t believe in regrets, but it sucks that I never saw them live, and now, never will. But I’ve still got that old Ill Communication CD kicking around, and so will be able to go back in time and listen to the mellifluous lyrics, gravelly voice and tweak scratches of 3 MC’s who changed my life.
    

    
    

    "Sabba papassa akaranam

    Kusalassa upasampada

    Sacitta pariyodapanam

    Etham Buddhanasasanam"

    
    

    To abstain from all evil

    To cultivate the good

    and to purify one's mind

    This is the teaching of the Buddhas

    
    

    Oh, and last thing, a few places have already brought out RIP MCA t-shirts. They don’t need your money, clearly Cancer research does. Click and donate, if you can.
    National Foundation for Cancer Research (USA) http://www.nfcr.org/
    Australian Cancer Research Foundation (AUS) http://www.acrf.com.au/
    

    
    
  • “…and then the big brown shark came….”

    Apr 09, 12

    
    

    Started thinking about comedy shows because I read an article on Eddie Murphy’s recent 51^st birthday (that’s right, Beverly Hills Cop was a looooong time ago). And a website posed the question – which was better, Raw or Delirious? So that started my journey back into stand-up. (By the way, I think Raw is the smarter comedy, but Delirious is iconic as hell; and when he passes, he should be buried in that red leather suit).

    
    

    What is the role of comedians? Historically, jesters were to entertain the court (research done by watching Game of Thrones). I believe comedians are the most important custodians of modern society. Because they not only inspect the root of the issues, they are able to flip it, make you laugh and see their point of view. Hands up anyone who gets the bulk of their US political information from the Daily Show?

    A comedy show can take you to a place of foreboding, and allow you to think something that may be taboo. Anyone who is familiar with Dave Chappelle’s character Clayton Bigsby will know what I’m talking about.

    
    

    Comedians have a keener eye on society than anyone can ever know, and in some instances can predict the future. In the Chris Rock Show (1997-2000) he joked about OJ writing a book called “I didn’t kill my wife, but if I did, here’s how I’d do it”. Well…

    
    

    Also, in Bigger and Blacker he talks about how black people need a new leader, and then in Kill the Messenger he riffs on Barack Obama. Pretty nifty.

    
    

    I know, Eddie Murphy’s latest stuff has been a bit weak, but watch Delirious and Raw. You will see a cocky young man, strutting out on stage in skin tight leather, absolutely decimating the audience with observations, voices and dirty jokes. For instance, in horror movies white people stay in haunted houses and try to investigate the cause, hunt the ghost etc; whereas a black family would just leave:

    
    

    That bit isn’t about houses, or real estate, or even race; it’s about practicality, and I think about it all the time.

    
    

    It can be a way of getting something of your chest, whether that is political, the comedy industry itself, anything at all. Ricky Gervais seminal classic “The Office” wasn’t about an office, it was about comedy itself, the blindspot where David Brent thinks he is being absolutely hilarious with funny sayings, ‘dead-on’ impressions and dirty jokes, but he is actually tragic. We laugh not at him pretending to moonwalk, we laugh because a middle-aged man moonwalking in an office in Slough is simultaneously the worst and best thing we could ever see.

    
    

    Similarly, Louis CK has a lot to say about Americana, and has a bit on the over-usage of certain words, (in particular ‘hilarious’). I love that bit, but moreover, my favourite little descriptor is two fat Americans he was standing near, and how one just made the bare minimum effort to speak “like he was secreting words out of the front of his head” – such fantastic imagery, and an example of how a good comedian will make you laugh, a better one will make you think, but the best comedians make you see what you think, but didn’t know you thought.

    Often quoted is the fact that most people’s number one fear is public speaking – these people do that, and not only speak on stage, but they make you laugh, and if it’s a really good bit, it will make you think. They’re not in a band, they’re not surrounded by other people; it’s just them and a mic. Standing in front of strangers who have paid money to be entertained. Comedians show the truth of themselves, and of life, and serve it up in 3 minute morsels, making it go down easier and effectively, deeper.

    
    

    Billy Connolly by and large doesn’t really write out what he’s going to say, which is astounding because a joke isn’t funny if it’s not worded correctly. Sure you can get by on bluster and attitude, but a precisely crafted joke is a thing of beauty.  You know when someone tries to retell a famous comedian’s joke, and they mess it up? Oh man, only Nazis and cancer are worse than that.

    
    

    Ever been to a stand-up comedy night and the guy on stage has sucked real hard? There is nothing sadder than an unfunny comedian. You see them sweating, not quite knowing what they are doing, and as an audience, you are willing them to say something funny, so you get into ‘nice aunty playing with a retarded child’ mode; laughing and encouraging any meagre attempt at a joke, just hoping, hoping that they have something left that made them think they could do this in the first place.

    
    

    And then there are observational comics – the purist being Seinfeld, where you think “oh I live that every day and never noticed it before.”

    Much has been made of Louis CK, and rightly so. He has an astute view of the world, and takes us on the journey of how gets by. He’s everyman trying to be as good as a parent as they can be without fucking hating what it’s doing to his own personality. Also, I admire on an interpersonal and strategic level the decision to have Dane Cook on his show and put to bed the furore around the matter of ‘stolen jokes’.

    
    

    Also, Chris Rock stand-up specials point to a lot of things that he obviously feels strongly about – race, relationships and politics. The line “Americans are the only people in the world who go hunting on a full stomach” is so perfect, because it encapsulates imagery and ideology in one simple sentence.

    
    

    So, what are your favourite bits of comedians? What made you laugh, and more importantly, do they still stick with you?

    
    

    *drops mic*
  • iSad

    Oct 06, 11

    
    

    As you’ve no doubt heard (and if you’re on Twitter, you have been bombarded since this morning) Steve Jobs has passed away, after a long battle with pancreatic cancer.

    Let me preface this by saying I am not a techie person (hell, I write – I could probably make do with a blackboard and chalk). I own a single Apple product, so am hardly a fanboi (fangirl?). However, I felt a bizarre sense of loss this morning. In fact, I feel it still. Steve Jobs has changed our lives and the way we live. His impact on the world and the cultural zeitgeist is immense.

    
    

    As a long-time fan of the Apple keynote speeches, and a curious observer of social media phenomena, Jobs was the epitome of charisma. He had everything a front man needs – chutzpah, humanity, humility, and above all, a kick ass product. Dude was a rockstar. Whenever a new Apple product was announced, it was touted by the blogosphere as a sort of modern day version of when The Beatles came to Australia in ’64.
    
    

    I do not think it is an overstatement to say that Apple’s aesthetic has served as a standard from which all modern design is a derivative of, nor do I think the impact of this company is limited to specific industries. Let me be clear – he has changed the way in which we view the world and consume media.

    And now he is cited amongst the upper echelons of modern inventors, alongside Marconi and Edison. I personally think he was better than that, the closest thing we will have to Tony Stark. I mean, he gave Barack Obama an iPad pre-release, something the President himself cites as ‘pretty cool’. And in the tablet market, let’s be real – there  are iPads and then there is everything else. But I digress.
    
    

    Apple is a part of our lives, whether you own a product or not. Raise a hand if you don’t have iTunes installed on your computer. Nobody? Thought as much. And I siriusly (sorry, had to) doubt I am the only one who has chucked an iTunes gift card under the Christmas tree for that nebulous friend-of-a-friend. The logo gleaming out from the decks of a DJ gig is ubiquitous, as is the row upon row of Macs when you enter a graphic design lab. Apple is synonymous with innovation, and has reached the holy grail of branding – it’s not a ‘like to buy’ it’s a ‘must get’.
    
    

    As a somewhat nostalgic and sentimental person, I adore the genesis of the company, and how that results in the triumphant empire that we see today. He took his garage tinkering to Silicon Valley, and swept us up in the magic. And yes, he stumbled along the way, with NeXT running through $250 million in 8 long years and giving the arse to 200 employees. But he got up, shook himself off and kept at it, soon becoming Chief Executive of a little animated company named Pixar. You might have heard of them, they did those ‘kids’ movies such as Toy Story and Finding Nemo? Rings a bell doesn’t it? I find that courage and dogged determination to see his vision materialise inspiring, and comforting.
    
    

    Pixar alone would be a dazzling legacy. But what is the real story here? Accessibility. He made computing accessible. With Garage Band your untalented deathmetal friends can release songs on iTunes. With Final Cut, indie filmakers can release their short stories onto Youtube. He allowed us to touch our dreams, make them a reality. His technology serves us, not the other way around. He is also responsible for bringing about a cultural paradigm shift – my friend’s 3 year old calls the laptop the ‘big iPad’. His style, the trademark cleanliness of design and freshness of innovation is breathtaking. As a non-tech person, I consistently marvel at the Star Trek devices we have available, and feel remarkably grateful to live in these times. An iPod, which costs less than $300, can hold 40 000 songs. Can you imagine storing even 1000 vinyl albums in your house? Amazing.
    
    

    I understand this supposition is not profoundly erudite, but I feel, as we reflect on how our daily life has been ‘Appled’, that it needs to be said. The official statement is that he passed away peacefully, surrounded by family. His personal ethos of staying true to your vision and doing what you love is also touching. All great leaders have a succession plan in place, for both their position and their company; and as a man who was so grandiose  in his ideals of what consumer computing could be, I am in no doubt that Apple will be fine. Anyone who has a keen eye for fashion will know that the loss of the creative lead is difficult, but not insurmountable. Take a look at Versace, or McQueen – still strong in both profitability and point of view, despite the tragic loss of the key people at the top.
    
    

    Still unconvinced? Still part of that asshole group of the world who is saying “who cares?” Think about this: try to imagine a world if Apple disappeared today, or worse still, had never existed. Not pretty is it? Also, quite unfathomable. But this is another offshoot – our generation has become one of expectation. We expect things to be smaller, faster, cheaper - better than before. And we expect them every year. Some might say this is over-entitlement, and yes, I would agree. But it is also an indirect result of Apple and these technologically expansive times – the bar is so high, we are constantly reaching further and further into the future, and making our most ridiculous, sci-fi fantasy devices a real, tangible product. He has taught us all, in the words of Buzz Lightyear, to reach for the sky.
    
    

    So thanks Steve, for changing the way we look at the world, making it easier to do stuff, and showing us that if you can think it, you can do it.

    Adieu, et merci.

    
    

    If you would like to make a donation to cancer research, please log on to http://www.acrf.com.au/
  • My time at Splendour in the Grass 2011

    Aug 05, 11

    Splendour in the Grass. The seminal Australian music festival had been on my bucket list for a while now, and with this year’s lineup being Britpop-heavy, I acquiesced. (Unlike many others – this year didn’t sell out in record time, as has been the case in the past. Whether this is due to the apparently underwhelming list of acts or the hefty price tag of ~$500 is anyone’s guess).
    Friday.
    

    Today’s hit list included James Blake (who is my future husband, he just doesn’t know it yet), The Hives and Kanye West. Upon arrival I was pleasantly surprised with the relatively hassle-free entrance, perhaps due to the fact we weren’t camping, and it was pretty early. I was expecting the prolonged crush that awaits patrons outside the Big Day Out, and I am pleased to report it was not like that at all.

    After a quick wander around, checking out the random, hippy stalls (a week later I am still shaking the sugar out of my clothes from the Byron Bay organic donuts) we make our way to the Amphitheatre to see British Sea Power – a band I am not aware of but have been told are ‘alright’. And they are, as are the sprightly fellows of Jinja Safari. That’s what I love about these festivals – you are exposed in a very visceral way to music you probably wouldn’t have bothered with at home.

    I was going to check out Illy in the mix up tent (as I had interviewed him earlier in the year), but scheduling issues meant my ass stayed parked on our patch of grass at the Amphitheatre. Jebediah were pretty great (hearing Leaving Home, reminded me of my youth *sigh*), as were The Kills. Checked out a bit of James Blake nee Rehder, and then wandered over the GW McLennan Tent for a bit of Boy and Bear action, and caught the last bit of Warpaint, who encouraged everybody to “connect, and breathe with each other”. Yeah okay....  A feed (surprisingly not bad – I had envisioned horrendous carny scran, but the chicken Panini went down a treat) and then we make our way over to the main stage for the big acts. Modest Mouse – eh, alright. To be fair, they are probably good at the pub, but when you are performing on the big stage, you gotta rise to the occasion, and I personally thought they were a bit weak. And then, The Hives. I must preface this by saying that I was a fan before, but after their show, I am going to devote much of my next years on this Earth as being their groupie. They were, in musical parlance, fucking awesome. I’ve read somewhere that The Hives are being touted as the best live act around at the moment, and I couldn’t agree more. They were funny, interactive with the audience, and their set was loud – everything a good act does when they are on the big stage. Their set was a belter. And now Kanye. I need a moment.

    Okay, I’m back.

    First off, I had seen the video of Kanye’s performance at Coachella this year and so I thought maybe, just maybe, he might bring it to Splendour. (Click here for his Coachella performance). I am delighted to report he did, and then some. The ballerinas, the pyrotechnics, the entrance atop a spire amidst wind machines; it was all there, in its outrageous, profligate glory. Yes it was over-the-top, and yes some would point and laugh at the audacity of a man who put an artistic alfresco as his backdrop, but you know what? Fuck the haters. Every single person who was at the Amphitheatre was on their feet for the entire show, and he held us in his hand. From the opening number of Power, to Goldigger, big tune All of the Lights, and then finishing it off with Hey Mama, he slayed us all. For me, that was worth the price of the ticket alone.  

    Sidenote – I am totally kicking myself for not seeing Gotye, and news that the show at the Powerhouse in October has just sold out has made me quite inconsolable. On to Saturday.

    
    

    Saturday was more chilled. Late start, got there just in time to see Kele, who is the lead singer of the Bloc Party (I’m a mental fan), but was performing at Splendour as a solo act. I actually went in to the mosh pit for this show, and I’m so glad I did. Big number Tenderoni was so good to see close up, and when he played This Modern Life I sort of had to pinch myself. A young lad behind me burst into tears when Kele left the stage “he’s been such an inspiration for me, in my life”. Not sure what exactly that was all about, but nevertheless, nice to see someone ‘enjoying’ themselves as well.

    The Grates were next, and they were pretty great (groan). A short spell at Architecture in Helsinki in the Mix-Up, and then on to the GW for Gomez. Gomez were cool, and as my friend says “I like them because they are real musicians”. Definitely downloading (I mean – buying their album now). One of the reasons I wanted to come to Splendour this year is performing next, her only show of the year. The incomparable Regina Spektor. I have a real affinity for piano acts, especially when it is stripped bare. And I loved it. I have read a few bits and pieces here and there that a lot of people didn’t like it “too many mistakes, bad sound quality”. Oh well, I guess opinions are like arseholes – everyone’s got one, just not all are pretty. I will gladly admit that I teared up a bit during Blue Lips. We walked back to our car 1.5 hours later feeling lighter, with the strains of Pnau’s Be My Embrace Now wafting from the Mix up tent into the trees.

    
    

    Sunday. Britpop Day. Mad innit.

    But first, some French dance from Yelle. To be honest, I thought I would be the only one in the Mix up tent to this Frenchie, but far from it – it’s packed. And she really draws the crowd in. I will say that I was probably the only one who knew the words to Je Veux Te Voir, but that was to be expected. The rest of the day is spent on the grass at the Amphitheatre, for The Vaccines, Cloud Control (during this set an impromptu dance party started at the ‘top’ of the Amphitheatre, which resulted in a weird conundrum of not taking notice of the band, but watching these mentals getting jiggy with it). The Vines  are up next, and play crowd favourite Get Outta Tha Way, and then do a cover of Outkast’s Miss Jackson. The crowd (myself included) provide the backing vocals in the chorus (Wooh!)

    Elbow was next, and showed their years of festival experience, engaging the crowd with Freddy Mercuryesque ‘sing-with-me’ stuff. Positive vibes aplenty. Kaiser Chiefs killed it, with a really high-energy rock’n’roll performance. And then Pulp. I need another moment.

    I first got into Pulp, and I suppose Britpop during the Halcyon mid-90’s years, when Blur, Suede, Oasis, Texas etc were big. The song that planted the seed was of course Common People. It had that hook, of really ‘saying something’ which sort of transforms your life when you are a nebulous 15 year old, and opens you up to different ways of thinking, etc. The start of an ongoing love affair, with British bands, Pulp, and particularly Jarvis Cocker *swoon*. I had similar reactions to Underwear and Disco 2000, and thank fuck he played all 3 songs. Lemme just say, that Jarvis Cocker is the coolest cat of all the cool cats, and if this set was the only time I get to see them play in the my entire life, I am okay with that. I did laugh however, when my Brit friend was a peeved that he had changed the word Hampshire (her hometown) in Sorted for E's and Whizz "bloody Brisbane my arse."

    Headliner Coldplay were next, and showed why they sell out arenas; big tunes, big screens, big fireworks. Special moments were had when the entire amphitheatre was singing along to Yellow. They encored with Clocks, which segued in a bit of ‘they try to make me go to Rehab’, and then “Fix You” (written for Gwyneth, who was so distraught with her father’s death and Chris couldn’t ‘fix her’ – aww).

    Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed my time at Splendour. Given the amount of people who are crammed into a relatively small space, it seemed to run reasonably well. The rain that had been threatening for days stayed away, and despite the copious drinking, there wasn’t the ‘aggro’ that seems to be omnipresent at Big Day Out’s. In terms of fashion, it seems Reality Bites is back, and Tyler the Creator chic was in for a few of the fellas – Hawaiian shirts and long socks. As well as that ‘lumberjack hipster look’ – full beard, check shirt, black square glasses (that Jarvis Cocker has been wearing forever, mind) and tatts. For anyone umming and ahhing over whether to go or not, I would say that I think that if you are a music lover, you should go to Splendour at least once. Sure it’s expensive (2 cokes and dagwood dog for $18), and dusty, but it’s definitely an experience. And check your attitude – I will never understand those punters who want to squeeze the lemon, who stand around the edges of the stage and slag off the act – come on, as Elbow said, “have a good time and look after each other. “
    
    

    “nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass” – William Wordsworth.
    
    
  • Max Brenner | Sexual Chocolate

    Jun 06, 11

    
    

    Chocolate by the Bald Man. Hell of a description. The latest haven for coffee lovers of Brisbane, or should I say chocolate lovers. Cos that’s what’s on the menu – advocates of diabetes are probably up in their sanctimonious arms, whilst the dentists and personal trainers are squealing with delight. This place is the biz.  I have been here at least 10 times, and 9 times it has been extremely busy. It must be a testament to the tastes and sugary palette of the citizens of our fair city that this place is doing very, very well.

    
    

    The patrons are the mix of people you see at all the coffee hotspots – students, girls meeting for coffee, an early bite before a night out. A trio of 12 year olds seated at the table next to me are celebrating a birthday. When asked why she chose this place “it’s really different and unique, like nothing else.” Birthday girl is an old-hand at this Max Brenner schtick – been to the one on the Gold Coast, and in Melbourne. Bloody hell, cooler than me. When I think back to my 12^th birthday, I think it involved a bowling ball, clown shoes and the Northside of Brisbane. Probably a testament to the universal appeal of the place, and quite rightly so - who doesn’t like chocolate? A couple in the corner are clearly on a first-date; slick move partner. Any man who took me on a date to a chocolate bar would be booking a second appearance for sure.

    
    

    Any of my close friends are probably already aware of my addiction to sugary delights – the unmistakable din of shaking nerds from the packet can often be heard from my neck of the office woods on any given day, and the earlier statistic of 10 previous trips to this venue is more cursory evidence.

    
    

    Let’s be clear – this is not just the normal cappuccino and chocolate cake joint – this place is innovative and makes chocolate the ‘hero’, to use the parlance of food reality shows. The menu shows such innovation in a chocolate pizza, and white chocolate chai tea. A chat to one of the hard-working and speedy servers affirms my earlier supposition, this place is always crazy busy. Perhaps fractionally less so during the day when school is in session, but then the wait is probably only 20 minutes rather than the usual of around 35 minutes.

    
    

    This place has ignited my literary dreams in an unexpected way – in the same way Allen Ginsberg was a writer in residence at the Chelsea, and Kathy Lette is given a place at the Savoy in London, my own ideals are much humbler; I would absolutely adore being allowed to set myself up here, and given pride of place. Just stick me in the corner, give me my usual (cappuccino, white chocolate marbles, chocolate soufflé with a side of strawberries) and let me bear witness to the life of this place. Good writing needs to be based in reality, and that means access to people and life, and this place affords this flight of fancy, in such a delightful way. What a lovely way to catch up and decompress from a tiring week at work, over a fondue? A more lovely way to vent I would struggle to imagine.

    
    

    Another testament to the intangible value and attraction of this place is the fact people are willing to wait up to an hour in line for the cocoa goodies in store. Let’s think about that – in these times of quick service, frantic work hours and the time-poor work-life balance that nearly 99% of the working world seems to be suffering from, the fact that so many people are willing to wait so long is perhaps part of the culture of this place. Hell, I am the most impatient person in the world (I have been known to cuss out my computer for taking too long to load a YouTube video), but this place is different – we all mill around, like bipedal cattle, awaiting our cheat meals.

    
    

    Typographic styling that seems to the graphic design style of choice adds to the atmospheric appeal, as does the interior design – its given an apothecary ye olde feel, with chocolate stored in glass beakers and gorgeous truffles in boutique combinations such as pistachio and dark chocolate, shredded coconut displayed in glass cabinets, as if showcased as precious jewels. This gives the sweet treats an air of majesty that harkens back to the historical vestiges of when Marco Polo first discovered the East and cacao was of a higher price than tobacco and coffee.

    
    

    Which brings me to my next point; this place does carry a premium price, which seems to add to the appeal and reinforce the emporium-style feel of the place. It’s a fun experience – in the 1.5 hour I spent here on a Saturday night, I saw 14 photos being taken of various patrons and their delectable desserts. It can serve as a special occasion, and so fittingly, the price is on par with this. It is sold as an experience, and it is this point of difference that sets it apart from general cafes where length of time is a key factor for people – God knows I would never wait for more than 10 minutes for a coffee from Gloria Jeans, but here, cos I get it in a kangaroo cup with a sliver of chocolate, I’m happy to wait half an hour.

    
    

    It’s relatively new here in Brisbane, and time will tell if this rush of enthusiasm and momentum will be a long term love affair or a flighty summer romance. But given the excellent location (right in the heart of Southbank’s eateries district, next to the popular Ship Inn), it seems to have the goods to go far. 

    
    

    http://www.maxbrenner.com.au

    
    
  • A review on book reviews | What do you read my Lord? Words, words, words

    Feb 21, 11

    First up, a little about myself. I basically do not watch TV. Aside from the odd cooking show and a rerun of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, let’s assume that I think of my 42 inch TV as a big paperweight. I don’t know who Barney Stinson is, except that it looks like Doogie grew up and is pretending to be into chicks now. So what do I do in my spare time? I read. Voraciously. Actually I wouldn’t say that I read so much that I devour books. I usually have a few on the go – at the moment its Kafka’s The Trial, Lucky You by Carl Hiaasen, seminal Australian ode Cloudstreet and Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (shut up). I’ve also recently joined a Classical Books Club, where our first selections are The Great Gatsby and Jude the Obscure.
    
    I picked up Kafka because, well, it’s Kafka. I have heard much about his writing, and anyone whose name is given over to an adjectival form in common parlance must be good right? Well...... I’m not really feeling it. The key to any story is well-rounded characters – they don’t necessarily have to be likeable, but they do need to be believable.  And I honestly couldn’t be bothered with Josef K., the protagonist. As far as I’m concerned he could be locked away for a long time, even if the circumstances are unjust. I know I am Robinson Crusoe on this, as The Trial is quite often prefaced as a ‘must-read’ and Le Monde cited it as one of the Top 100 Books of the Century, but it just didn’t float my boat. To put it into perspective – I read War and Peace in 3 weeks, The Trial I bought in November and I’m only 2/3 of the way through.
    
    
    Carl Hiaasen is a hilarious, inventive writer. Perhaps you are more familiar with his book Striptease, which was turned into a beacon of American cinema of the same name, starring 90’s hottie and Noughties cougar Demi Moore. Yeah that one. His characters are well-crafted, cartoonish (oh how I wish they would make a movie-version of Clinton “The Captain” Tyree, perhaps starring Ron Perlman). The pace is quick and the story doesn’t take itself too quickly. And like all good writers, the themes are very close to his heart –his books are set in Florida, and have an underlying environmental feel, most often corporate destruction and subsequent protection of the Everglades. The cast of characters include bumbling bandits, a sparky woman, a reluctant, problem-with-authority protagonist and a few wild cards. Sort of like the Big Mac meal of a book – nothing great for you, but hits the spot. And although he may not be as thought-provoking as Tolstoy or my other Russian heroes, damn his books are fun.
    
    
    Cloudstreet. I picked this up because I felt like it would be un-patriotic not to. Like much of Tim Winton’s work, Cloudstreet has earned multiple accolades for its colloquial turn-of-phrase, the respectful and delicate handling of the human condition  and the undeniable Australianess. I must say that in the initial few chapters, I wasn’t into it. But then it crept up on me, and while I wouldn’t say it was one of those books that you can’t put down, I did find myself reaching for it often. Upon closing the book, I did feel a little melancholy. I was swept up by the lyrical meter of the text – it’s not straightforward writing, there seems to be a melody to it which is enchanting. Also, the characters are heartbreakingly real and fully-rounded; they are vindictive, fragile, loving and can be found in everyone you know. I love these sorts of ‘sleeper’ books – at first they don’t seem to make much of an impact, but slowly but surely, through quiet turns of phrase and the utter reality it draws you in, and once you finish the work you feel quite bereft, at least I did.
    
    
    Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Some people slag it off, I think that may be because of pure jealousy or tall poppy syndrome (which I think is one of the most detestable facets of human character). Or maybe they don’t like the movies (personally I think they are okay – translation to the screen always means certain details are left out, which I think is understandable; cinema is a different beast to literature, and so it is fitting for some aspects to be modified, but some purists get their knickers in a twist about it; which I can understand as well). I think the series is a good read. Characters are fully-developed,  the storyline is engaging and gallops along, and the best thing of all, it  is continuous – there is a true thread between the books, (sometimes with a series, it is evident the author hadn’t really planned it all out beforehand, so is making stuff up on the spot – JK did it right and weaved a great tale that was simply split into 7 volumes). I’m re-reading the whole series so I can taste the full storyline. Another thing that you have to give JK credit for – she charts the characters lifeline from bright-eyed child to cynical, young teen believably, including the inner turmoil that adolescents go through in a remarkably grounded reality. This is no mean feat, from first love, unrequited love, the interpersonal dynamics between teenagers growing up at boarding school together, it is all pretty well laid out on the page. Also, the mythology of the series is kind of cool too – a single mother who would jot down a few paragraphs on cafe napkins and is rejected by twelve publishing houses and is now richer than the Queen and lives in a castle in Scotland? LIKE A BOSS!
    

    I joined the book club because I wanted to get into the Classics writing, and have a group of like-minded book nerds to chat about it with. Our first two books I have read before – Gatsby in high school (meh) and Jude is a favourite, despite its glum overtones, but that seems to be Hardy’s calling card. (And, against my better judgement, I have a strange crush on Christopher Eccleston, who starred in the Winterbottom-directed movie version). So anyhoo, the whole point of this lengthy, clumsy blog is that I will be reviewing books as I read them. Some might be Classics, some contemporary, others might be just randomly picked up here and there. But I can guarantee it will be 100% my truth – sacred cows will be turned into hamburgers if needs be. For the record, my favourite books of all time are Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson and The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. I am still undecided whether I will review these, as they are already well-known and have been discussed at length many times over by more accomplished and smarter people than myself. Also, I feel very personally attached to these tomes, so I’m a little reticent to put my thoughts down on paper. But other than that, I will be jotting down my thoughts every now and again. I hope this might be of interest to you, but if it isn’t, Two and a Half Men is on TV for you, so knock yourself out.
    

    
    
  • Let’s have a toast for the douchebags

    Jan 31, 11

    
    

    Offense. What does it mean? Bookish definition is “a violation or breaking of a social or moral rule; a transgression; sin.” So I guess you could say it is when someone or something communicates with you in a manner that is at odds with your personal morals and beliefs. I have to say this post was borne of my personal and general media reaction to Ricky Gervais hosting  the Golden Globes a few weeks ago. For those that missed it, here is a taster:
    

    
    This was his 2nd time hosting, and I guess he thought he would hit a bit closer to the bone. Last year he made a few cheeky jokes about Mel Gibson’s drinking problems, Paul McCartney’s costly divorce and other showbiz fodder that was a little bit naughtier than what the late night talk show hosts were monologuing. And he probably wanted to top it. Personally I thought it was okay – I liked that he didn’t pull any punches (who else would have the bollocks to make a joke about tinseltown darlings Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp, who were seated a few metres from the stage and Gervais himself). Undoubtedly he was the most entertaining bit of the awards show (which is, let’s face it, a circle jerk for extremely well-paid people whose job entails talking and walking around on film). In terms of actual comedy, the jokes were a little lame (seriously, trotting out the Robert Downey Jnr jail schtick? dude has been clean for like 8 years now; what’s next – a joke about Liz Taylor’s husbands?) But did I think it was offensive? No. 
    It’s not like he was making fun of the terminally ill or orphaned children – he was taking pot shots at over-privileged, over-pampered adults who are paid exponentially more than teachers, nurses and other true pillars of society. And perhaps they needed a little taste of reality, to take them back down to earth. 
    

    Obliquely conservative American media had a field day with Gervais, which I have a sneaking suspicion would have pleased the formerly chubby funster – The New York Daily News called him "tasteless, bordering on nasty", while the LA Times said his jokes set "a corrosive tone" for the night. Suppositions abound that Gervais wanted to go out in flames, which is feasible – fans of his standup will know that he is no stranger to controversy, indeed he courts it. I guess he took George Bernard Shaw’s words to heart: “The secret to success is to offend the greatest number”. Some stars (Al Pacino, Christian Bale) came out in support; others were vocal in their protest (Judd Apatow). It all boils down to what offends us on a personal level, which is further derived from our social mores, values etc.
    It appears to me that the current state of the world’s morality is we are in a state of flux. The days of political correctness have no doubt left an indelible mark on our general psyche but we are simultaneously rebelling against these strict confines – comedians such as Louie C.K. are masters of turning political correctness on its head whilst still showing warmth and humanity in their routines.
    So what constitutes offense to me? I am offended when others fail to see that if you and I do not agree, that is not a bad thing; saying ‘I guess we will have to agree to disagree’ is a valid result. I am offended that news of a celebrity baby and sports headlines take front page, whilst the oppression and desperate nature of the situation in Egypt is relegated further down. I am offended that many people don’t understand the difference between an Individualistic and Collectivist political ideology, but know the names of both the trainers and ‘contestants’ on the Biggest Loser. 
    I am also sure that I offend others; it’s human nature. No doubt my neighbours take offense to my haphazard guitar plinking, and I doubt they care too much for my appreciation of music that contains explicit lyrics. But who cares? Being offended doesn’t actually do anything – I think that’s the point most people seem to forget. Just because I get offended by the ever-growing onslaught of reality television doesn’t mean my life will change in any way – you don’t go to bed offended and wake up with cancer. What I’m saying is, everybody needs to chill the fuck out. Also, if you delve deeply enough, there is certain level of genius in someone who has offended you, to paraphrase Robertson Davies. Feeling offended can trigger something within you; a need to reexamine your life and values; and that sort of introspection is always a good thing. 
    Aah, I dunno; perhaps we should try and emulate Abraham Lincoln “We should be too big to take offense and too noble to give it”. But where’s the fun in that?
    

    
    
  • 2011 Travel wish-list | Take me on a trip I’d like to go someday...

    Jan 10, 11

    As an adjunct from last week’s (apparently divisive) Top 50 of 2010 list, I thought I would share an open letter on possible locales for vacay this year. Preface – I get very obsessed with things. The current flavour du mois seems to be this blog – masturbation by manuscription. My other fixation at the mo – Israel (and neighbouring regions). 
    

    
    

    The land of the holy, which is a slightly curious choice as I think I am turning into an atheist. I can hear the pundits’ wails of derision – “You can’t be a bit of an atheist, that’s like saying you’re a bit pregnant; you either are or you aren’t”. The thing is, I have a great respect for all religions, I am just not sure if I believe in it. Again – bizarre. I guess its the intrinsic difference between a racist joke and a joke about racism. What was I saying? Oy vey  - Israel.
    
    

    I suppose it is an offshoot of the affinity I feel towards the Middle East, and the fact I am an unabashed history buff and adore the folklore of how traditions are passed down through generations. In these times of short shrift and disposable consumption, centres that have a rich history resonate with me deeply. I have nothing to do with the creaking machinery of humanity – I belong to the earth! I say that lying on my pillow and I can feel the horns sprouting from my temples. (ooh, a Henry Miller quote – you fancy huh!)
    

    Inextricably linked to history is linguistics, and Hebrew is one of the oldest languages in the world. I am also fascinated by the coexistence of the modern world and these relics of another time. I would like to bear witness to the black-hatted Chassidim praying at the Wailing Wall, alongside young Jewish men winding the Tefillin across their forearms. Throw in the opportunity to visit the site of Jesus’ birth, and its all immensely enticing. 
    
    

    Of course I wouldn’t mind schlepping it over to the nearby Dead Sea – I would be meshuggina not to. (Cue the sad tuba.)

    Next point on the holiday wish-list – Tanzania. I remember watching a travel show a few months ago (I watch barely any television, so it was a monumental and memorable event) and this coastal African nation was featured. I found it enchanting – it is all at once a tropical spice isle and a wild landscape - imagine a rollicking safari in a banged-up Jeep, with the backdrop of a setting sun melding with an ochre African plain - a fanciful day in anyone’s memory bank. The town of Dar-es Salaam was mentioned, triggering childhood memories of Roald Dahl’s autobiography, in which he recounts his time as a Shell employee during the 30’s. 

    I would also like to see Mt. Kilimanjaro, although global warming seems to have made the snows unfortunately a thing of the past. And seeing as I am in the area, a stay at the whimsical Giraffe Manor in nearby Nairobi would be a delightful inclusion to the itinerary.
    
    

    Like many Australians, travel is a rite of passage when we ‘come of age’.  Somehow we got the idea that by getting the hell away from where we are they could find something better. Because if a man could muster the guts or even the desperation to move a few thousand miles there was a pretty good chance that he’d have money in his pocket and meat in his belly and one hell of a romping good time. (Aah HST, who do we look to in your absence?)  And the usual suspects of the UK and Europe are most often first on the list. 

    But I have had an epiphany of late – Australia is a big place (hurr hurr), and I haven’t really visited any of our own treasures. I have recently come across a phenomenon called ‘glamping’ – glamourous camping. Asinine name aside, this is an intriguing prospect – stay in luxurious ‘tents’ amidst quintessential Aussie outback spots. I guess that’s how we do it Down Under, where the women glow and the men p….. ah forget it.
    
    

    I have to admit this post has been influenced in part by my great affection and fangirlism of the Ricky Gervais/Stephen Merchant developed show “An Idiot Abroad”, which showcased Manchester’s favourite son, Karl Pilkington travelling the globe to visit the 7 wonders, and the shitty journey along the way.

    
    

    So what are your thoughts? Any suggestions, please feel free to comment below.

    Send me a postcard, drop me a line, stating point of view

    Indicate precisely what you mean to say, yours sincerely wasting away.

    
    
  • 2010 Wrap

    Jan 06, 11

    Hello campers, I know I have been slipping on my pimping with this blog, so I thought I would get my Mary Schmich on and do a “Top 50 things I’ve learnt in 2010” post. It’s been a year of ups and downs, both personally, professionally and within the greater context of national and international congress. Anyways, enough with the foreplay and on with the list:

      

      

    1.       Don’t ask people about their tattoos, unless it’s a legitimate and heartfelt question. Things such as ‘did that hurt?’; ‘you know that’s there forever’ are obvious and give us the shits. Sure we’ll talk about the meaning or reasons behind our choice, but come on, it’s such a personal thing; unless you are a complete psychopath we know that you are always going to be complimentary – you can’t really diss someone’s tattoo, it’s like saying their kid’s ugly.

    
    2.       Keep learning. It’s good for the brain and it’s the ultimate selfish gift to yourself. Aah ‘selfish’. Such a dirty word. This is directed at the mothers out there who may not wear a superwoman costume, but try their darndest to embody it – trying to be all things to all people. Take some time to do something just for you. Your children will appreciate it and will most likely model your behaviour, making them well-rounded adults. Also, it’s incredibly fulfilling to be recognised for something other than making packed lunches and folding laundry. Go on ladies, stimulate yourselves – mentally.
    

    
    3.       Learn how to take photos properly. Sure, the ‘auto’ setting is great, and hell, that’s what it’s there for – a nice default option for when we can’t be bothered fixing up ISO balance etc. But taking the time to learn about the rule of thirds and depth of field is really worth it, and when you look back in a few years, you will appreciate the extra care you took to capture all those moments that are long gone and mostly forgotten.

    4.       Planning an event? Loosen up, Madonna. You’re going to have to accept the guest list is flimsy, the food might be burnt, the weather mightn’t be kind, costs will be higher than you thought, and your shoes are going to hurt. But it’s all gravy, because that stuff is quickly forgotten, but the memories of laughter, tears and stupid conversations are truly priceless.
    

    5.       Eat natural food. It’s better for your intestines, makes you feel full for longer and is often cheaper. Wins all round.

    6.       Gardening is brilliant, and I say this without a shadow of irony. It teaches you lessons in patience and there is something wonderfully wholesome about eating a salad that consists of tomatoes you have cultivated. Personally, gardening is probably the only good thing I can do with my hands. *side eye*

    7.       Learn to cook. Foxtel has a channel dedicated to food, Masterchef is a ratings hit, and I can’t imagine there would be many households that don’t count at least one ‘celebrity’ chef-authored book as a well-thumbed edition to their library. Even your local supermarkets are getting a bit cheffy (kecap manis and broccolini regularly line the walls of my local Woollies), so there is no reason for you not to get involved as well. You don’t need to know how to cook a lot of things, but you should have a catalogue of about a dozen things in your arsenal. And ladies, say it with me – a dude who can cook = sexy.

    8.       Also, food is love, so being able to prepare a meal for your loved ones is a very primal, nurturing thing to do.

    9.       Don’t watch TV. It’s stupid, pointless and forces you to think in sound bites. Real life takes time and shows different layers and sides to the story. The media pushes one side relentlessly. Don’t get sucked in to the ignorance vortex.

    10.   Realise that TV is pure hype. It blows everything out of proportion, and enforces drama onto otherwise meaningless occurrences.
    

    11.   So-called ‘Reality TV’ is unbelievably, incredibly interminable. It is the bastion of lovesick, narcissistic morons you wouldn’t piss on if they were on fire. They are the dregs of humanity and certainly questions need to be asked of the people who would think shining a spotlight on these vacuous remnants of human beings counts as entertainment.

    12.   If you’re running late, don’t log on to Youtube. Trust me, it starts with casually checking out your favourite vloggers, then descends into you singing along and trying to copy the dance moves from Aaliyah’s “Down with the Clique”, whilst your date is waiting at your front door and you haven’t progressed further than choosing which earrings to wear.

    13.   Drink water. Lots of it. Daily. Good for the skin and most times we think we are hungry, we’re just thirsty.

    14.   Travel outside your comfort zone, literally. I’m not sure what our purpose in life is, but I would not be surprised if it was somehow linked to personal and spiritual growth. One of the best shortcuts to enlightenment is travelling to other parts of the world. It forces you to think on your feet, and experience situations that are totally removed from your everyday life.

    15.   Be suspicious of people who don’t like animals. Research shows that the way a person treats an animal reflects their disposition towards humanity. If you are on a date and a guy casually remarks that his childhood hobby was torturing the family hamster, excuse yourself and jump out the toilet window. Trust me, I just saved your life.

    16.   If you don’t like your job – quit or shut up about it.

     

     

    
    

    17.   Okay, I get it. Current technology is all about ease of connectivity between our devices and social marketing spaces – direct upload to Youtube, options on our mobile phones to post straight to Facebook and ubiquitous card readers and USB connectivity means sharing your pics is pretty effortless. But here lies the rub – just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Had a good night? Great, I’m happy for you. You’ve uploaded 45 pics of the night, and 44 are blurry – now I think you have suffered some sort of brain injury. Nobody thinks you’re a wild and crazy, wacky party animal – we just think you’re vapid, narcissistic, and an attention-whore.

    18.   Keep some things private, and therefore sacred. With the advent and spotlight that Facebook and Twitter enable, sharing on phones is a hop, skip and a click to put it all out there. But you know what, don’t. Mystery is sexy, and when you continually post about what you’re eating for breakfast, lunch and dinner; I lose my hard-on.

    19.   Status Updates – oh boy, where do I start? Like no. 18, keep some things to yourself. You and your spouse having trouble conceiving? Hey man, that sucks. It’s also intensely private, so perhaps don’t post it as a status update. Other lame moves – posting song lyrics and saying Good Morning! Or Good Night all – just go to bed already. And also, please for the love of Ghesquiere, do not ‘like’ your own status.

    20.   The thirsty status update. You know the one – there is always some sadsack posting bullshizz about how hard life is. I realise you had George the Goldfish (or sickeningly, Georgie Boy) for a whole three weeks and now he is no longer with us, but please – life is hard. All but about 1% of the world’s population have to go out and toil for our wares, the rent is too damn high and why can’t I just stay home and watch Spaced reruns, dammit! Point is, most of the time we’re all going through shit, so get over it, and get on with it. Whining is for children, perseverance and class is for adults.

    21.   Okay fine, you’re busy, so is everyone else in the fucking world. I don’t know if you’re looking for attention or you've chosen to live your life like an open wound and freely answer the question that nobody asked about what has been going on in your life in the past 30 seconds, and frankly, I don’t care – shut up.

    22.   If you’re bored, go do something constructive, instead of posting that mess in your status and perioding all over my newsfeed.

    23.   I’m not going to get uppity about spelling and grammar etc – as far as I’m concerned, Facebook is just for mucking around, so it’s not a biggie. However, what’s with the overuse of exclamation marks? Just use 1 – we get it, you’re excited. Any more and you look idiotic. Also, if you post more than 3 statuses a day – get a twitter.
    

    24.   Ladies (and some of the tuna fish mens) please don’t duckface in your pics. You know, that thing where you purse your lips together like you’re blowing a kiss. For some reason, someone told somebody that this was sexy. Let me be the first to set the record straight. It is not. You look ridiculous.

    25.   Same goes for those whack gang/sideways peace signs. Even if you are throwing them in an ironic way, please do so sparingly – you might think it is hilarious and ridiculously post-modern hipster to do so, but other people might not know you are taking the piss.

    26.   I would like to retire the words awesome, epic, fail, win, indeed, and methinks. My beef with these words is perhaps a little harsh; it’s not so much the words themselves, but their continual use. It seems to have gone the way of delicious and beautiful – these words are so overused that they don’t mean anything anymore.

    27.   While I’m at it, let’s bid adieu to LOL, FML, LMAO, w00t and any other absurd short hand. (u, ur, and emoticons are also included). Come on, we can do better.

    28.   Facebook attention shouldn’t be currency. I suppose on some level it is sort of flattering to get a number of likes and comments, but hopefully your self-worth isn’t tied up in this sort of rubbish. Remember Facebook is free and for many I’m guessing it is a way to alleviate boredom, so getting a Happy Birthday from someone you haven’t seen in 5 years is okay, but not as nice as a coffee and sharing a cake with a real-life friend.

    
    

    
    

    29.   Drop your prejudices. Its 2011 – with globalisation of brands and social marketing, your world is truly getting smaller. If we turn back the clock as recently as 2005, life was in many ways quite different. There is now a black president in the White house, and we have a female PM. Basically everyone is getting their swirl on, so I don’t know why you aren’t too, honky. Also the universe has a way of messing with any strong convictions you may have. Hate gays? Guess what, you’re gonna have a gay son. Hate niggas? You might have a car accident and have your life saved by a 250 pound black dude called LeMar Johnson from Inglewood. What I’m saying is, we’re all the same maaan... *bong load*
    

    
    

    30.   Be nice to your friends. Obvious huh? But often it’s the easy ideas that are the hardest to implement. Your friends are a walking, talking link to your past, and will keep it real with you; when you fuck up they will be the first to set you straight, and when you are doing well, they are your loudest cheerleaders. And remember, friends are like sex – it’s definitely quality over quantity.

    31.   Furthermore, the relationship between friends can be more intimate than that with your lover. Your friends don’t take shit as easily as your spouse, because there is an absence of sex, which, let’s face it, is a Get Out of Jail Free card. “Hmm, you really piss me off, but you’re hot, so I’ll let it slide”.
    

    32.   Hold on to your knickers Twihards – vampires walk amongst us. Instead of feeding on your blood they subsist on your energy and time. Quit those bitches and step away from Debby Downer – it’s a reflection of their own internal unhappiness that they are directing all their negativity on you.

    33.   Advice is rarely listened to – remember this when you are on the receiving end or dishing it out. People like to pass on information and seem powerful doing so – it is a way of feeling wise and is akin to taking a stroll down memory lane, with an ominous moral to the story. Please be patient and respectful of this intrusion and you never know, you might actually learn something.

    34.   Schadenfreude. Yeah it tastes good at first, but it stings on the way down. The best way to play the game? Don’t. Like I said in no. 32, vampires exist, but don’t let them take your shine because they are feeling a little dim. It is true what they say – you teach people how to treat you, so if you continue to eat garbage, trashy types will keep shovelling it your way.

    35.   Spend time with your kids. I can hear you from behind the screen “but I do! I make them breakfast, I drive them to school, I pick them up from their playdates, I do everything for them!” Yes I know. What I mean is, hang out with them. I remember watching an old ep of Oprah, about a family who decided to take some time off and travel, because the mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. They had seen many great things around the world, and you know what the little girl’s favourite memory was? Eating a bowl of cereal with her mom late at night. Parenting isn’t that hard – just be there. Be present.
    

    36.   Chances are your kids are pretty interesting, I know mine is. It is quite touching to see your children flourish into their own style and personalities. It is also very touching to see echoes of your brother, sister, uncle etc in your own child, and quite fascinating to see elements that are entirely of their own creation. It’s easy to use your children as a vehicle for your own oft-lapsed desires, a sort of second-chance for opportunities that have long passed you by. Don’t do it, its insidious and disrespectful to their own development.

    37.   Realise that when you are talking to someone, they are showing more of themselves than they realise.

    38.   If you’re feeling bad, don’t worry, it will pass. If you’re feeling good, don’t worry it will pass. Life goes up and down more frequently than a Thai hooker servicing a buck’s party. What you need to know is how to deal with these fluctuations and the knowledge that you will be okay.
    

    39.   Don’t compare yourself to anybody – you don’t know the real story. The only people who know the reality of their existence are the people in it, so don’t be jealous of anybody else.

    40.   In any event, who cares? You live your life for yourself. It’s not a competition. Yes, money and status may change the parameters, but people’s lives are ultimately the same regardless of those variables. Being rich doesn’t make the loss of a parent hurt any less, we all have moments of weakness and doubt about job performance or if the one we are giving our love to is appreciating us, and just because you’re a Nobel peace prize winner doesn’t mean the icy fingers of sleep deprivation will forever be a thing of the past. Raising kids and balancing time is always going to be a tricky situation, there will be days when you are hit with the double whammy of a bad hair day and a fat ass day, but know this – I guarantee you are not alone in your angst, and there is always at least one person who wishes they could be you.
    

    41.   Marriage. There are two types of people in the world – those who dig it, and those who don’t. Whatever your choice, make sure you feel it and honour it. Realise that marriage is sacred and for life. Yes I know divorce is widely (and disturbingly accessible) but that shouldn’t really be in your mindset when you take your vows – I don’t think you should get married if your thought process is ‘oh well, if it doesn’t work out, I will just divorce the fucker’. Historically speaking, marriage was necessary for the perpetuation of the species and a code for property rights and the protection of bloodlines. Whilst these values and tenets are mostly outmoded, the institution of marriage has been largely bastardised by modern media. I think Chris Rock says it best:
    

    42.   Ladies, please drop all the self-loathing. Its way more unattractive than fat thighs. If a guy likes you, he will let you know in non-so-secretive ways. Take it at face value and enjoy the attention.

    43.   Same goes for the ‘aging’ thing. Everyone gets old. Face it. And the ones who try and fight it, by lying about their age and dressing inappropriately are the saddest ones around. I’m not scared of growing older; it’s the growing up and living a beige life that I find most offensive.

    44.   Take the plunge. At a cross roads in life and not sure if you should take the gamble or not? All I can say is every time I have taken a big risk in life, no matter how it ends up, I’m glad I took it.

    45.   Watermelon, army green and gold go nicely together.

    46.   There are three things that I think are very much part of the reason we are put on this earth, and they all start with H: Humanity, Humility and Honesty.

    47.   Laugh. Take delight in the fact you are alive. If you are one of the 5 people who can be arsed reading this blog, you are probably richer than the 80% of humanity who live on less than $10 a day. Like I said before, be grateful for what you have – there are people in hospital beds and stuck in war zones who would give anything for the opportunity and treasures you have at your fingertips. Step into your moment.

    48.   Be nice to your parents and extended family. Yeah, they drive you nuts, but when the chips are down, they will most likely be the first ones in your corner.
    

    49.   Be happy being your own eccentric self. Into 14^th century poetry? Fantastic. Don’t let ideas of what’s ‘cool’ that dampen your enthusiasm. Realise that you are a rock star. I would much rather talk to an honest literature geek than a fake, hipster who declares his love for Kraftwerk.

     50.   Realise this list should be taken with a grain of salt, and if and when I break any rules in the coming months that I have damned in the paragraphs above, please be gentle and remind me in private. Or should I say, it would be awesome if u didnt remind me of my epic fails :)
    
    
  • Paris Appraisal

    Jan 06, 11

    In the interests of boredom (on my part, not yours) I’m going to do this Paris Wrap-up in bulletpoints, because I’m into the whole brevity thing (who doesn’t love a Big Lebowski quote at the top of a blog post? Losers, that’s who)

    • Food is fantastic. Its quick, honest and flavoursome. If I’m totally honest, it is a bit too rich, but that’s hardly a crime. I have a new appreciation for crème brulee, fois gras and escargot. Petit dejuener la Francaise (French Breakfast) is a great way to start the day – small coffee, orange juice, 2 fried eggs and a croissant – c’est bon.
    • Everyone said it would be expensive – this was not my experience. Sure, if you’re stupid enough to eat at the brasseries in the touristy areas, you will pay more, but it’s really not necessary. The charcuteries and markets offer cheap feeds – you can’t go wrong with a slice of quiche Lorraine or lasagne for 3 Euros. And alcohol is available in the supermarkets – I grew quite fond of 1664 beer, which was €6 for a 6 pack. I did however indulge in champers when Tina was in town –Taittinger for 30 Euro-holler!
    • July is sales time, and the sales are decent – 50% off in many cases. Bring a big suitcase.
    • Seasoned European travellers will be aware, but the architecture and buildings are fantastic. Every square centimetre of the city is pure creativity and history. The place is littered with monuments, most of them free – Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur, Trocadero, to name a few.
    • Speaking of litter – its everywhere. A downfall of Paris is it is a bit dirty. I think its part of the people’s culture – despite rubbish bins being installed everywhere, people just leave their trash where they sit. The city does its best (garbage is collected daily) but still; I don’t care how old and beautiful a building is, the sight of a man pissing on it or a dog pinching a loaf in front of it is mingin’
    • A feast for art lovers – there are approximately 70 museums in Paris. If you’re really an art buff, it would be wise to invest in a museum pass – its cheaper and you skip the queues. Must-see the Louvre and d’Orsay.
    • The metro is easy to navigate and very accessible – there are literally hundreds of stations, and there are probably 2 or 3 stations to choose from at any one point in Paris. Buy a 5-day ticket for unlimited use and get out there.
    • Europe is small – the apartments are small, as are the elevators. Get over it, that’s just how they roll, and it’s charming.
    • The people are beautiful. Full hair, clean skin, well groomed, clean, tailored clothes. Men usually wear suits in a navy or charcoal, and anyone looks good in that colour palette, whatever their nationality. Women also stick to blue/white colour , with maybe a metallic/neutral accessory to highlight. (Whether the allegiance to the colour of their flag is a show of subconscious patrioticism, or just a manifestation of the fact that Europe is predominantly winter and so the colour scheme is an extension of the season is anyone’s guess).
    • Charmingly, they also wear the nautical stripes alot – I honestly thought that was a stereotype, the same way people think all Aussies wear Akubra’s. There is also a hint of arrogance – they know they are French, they know what that means to the world, and they love it. Its confidence, but borderline arrogance. I adored it, but I can see how other people would get the shits with it.
    • About 1 in 10 people speak English, and that’s if you’re lucky, and even then, they only know a few words here and there. Do a bit of research and know a few words:

    
    
    

    o   Bonjour – good day

    o   Bonsoir – good evening

    o   Pardon – same as English. Used if you want to navigate around someone, on the Metro for example.

    o   Excuse moi –excuse me. Used if you want to catch someone’s attention

    o   L’menu sil vout plait – the menu, please

    o   L’addition sil vou plait – the bill, please (for restaurants)

    o   Je parle un tre peu le francaise – I speak very little French.

    o   Desolee - sorry

    o   C’est combien – how much?

    o   Merci bien –thanks a lot

    o   De rien – you’re welcome

    o   Je voudrais – I would like

    o   Je peux essayer dans un trente-neuf – Can I try this in a 39 – that’s probably localised to me, when I was in the shoe boutique.

    o   Ca va – ok

    • Personal space – in Australia it’s pretty much considered that an arm length is good distance to stand away from people. In paris, it’s about half – people get up in your grill. Especially on crowded metro’s, everyone becomes good friends.
    • The men, as aforementioned, are smoking hot. I have heard people say that France is a bit sleazy, and I guess it’s a matter of opinion. Sure, they do say hello when you walk past a cafe, and I did get a bit of a thrill when a man said to me “vous et jolie, vraiment’.  It is an appreciation – French men like good clothes, good food and good women. It’s the same way I pass by a clothing store, and feel the fabrics – just an appreciation.
    • A few dodgy characters – organised gypsies and lots of homeless. If you’re firm and say no, they let you pass by easily. Don’t be moronic and fall for their ploys – no, you didn’t just drop this wedding ring, and no, I don’t want to donate to your dodgy ‘charity’.
    • Traffic is kind of mental – scooters and bikes whizzing around, the green walk sign is just a suggestion, as is the red light –watch where you step and be aware they drive on the left hand side of the road.
    • It is a city that encourages what marketers call incidental exercise – you can’t not walk around everywhere, and with the ubiquitous metro and hire bike scheme I would expect the majority of people wouldn’t be yearning for their own car.

    It is an excruciatingly charming city that is easy to navigate, fun to walk around and very seductive on many levels. A life without visiting Paris is a life not lived. 
    
    
  • Au Revoir, Paris!

    Jan 06, 11

    Wednesday 14^th of July
    

    So today is Bastille Day. And its pissing down. As we got on it a bit the night before, we decide to forgo the military march (held at Arc de Triomphe) and chill at home for a while. In the afternoon we venture out, stopping at quintessentially Parisian stores along the way. Homewares are so funky and accessible, if I were to live here I would be able to create a living space that was both creative and practical. (une moment – after re-reading the second half of that sentence, I need to kick my own ass. Talk amongst yourselves...)
    
    

    Alors, we were supposed to meet a friend under the Eiffel tower, but due to circumstances, were unable to keep our appointment. (that’s government talk for – couldn’t be arsed). Had dinner at a lovely restaurant in St Germaine – seafood platter for mon ami, and roasted chicken breast with gnocchi pour moi. St Germaine is a cool area – lots of bars, cafes and kitschy stores, and one that I would like to get to know a bit better – put that on the list for ‘things to explore next time I’m in town”.

    
    

    Thursday 15^th of July

    Today is photo tour day, take 2. We meet Randy at the Hotel Louvre, and say hi to the fellow amateur photographers – of course there is another Aussie, and a Canadian. We make a few stops along the way, Palais Royal and Jardin des Tuileries. 

    
    

    
    

    Afterwards, we decide to grab some lunch and then head over to the Louvre. This place is monstrous – we soon realise that our plans of spending a few hours are nowhere near enough. I wasn’t sure which was more appealing, the art itself or the building (fantastic architecture, 10m high ceilings and perfectly diffused lighting). We saw Mona Lisa (or “Madge” to her mates) and then bailed.

    Last touristy destination is Notre Dame, the church that contains the official chair of the Archbishop of Paris. We didn’t go in, as the line was mental, but the exterior was fulfilling enough – I love the French gothic facade – gargoyles everywhere. Of course there was a park in the back, which afforded a lovely photography position. 

    Decide to head home, and as it’s our last night in Paris (visage triste) we have a meal at Flo Brasserie. The waiter gives us a few free wines (Chablis, you are my new best friend) and so we decide to repay the favour by taking him out for a few drinks after. Our plans to be sensible and go home after a few (as the apartment looks like a bomb site, and we have to work out how to alter the laws of physics and fit our shopping into already bursting suitcases) have gone by the lay – jamais deux sans trois (never 2 without 3). We get rugby league drunk and only call it quits because the sun is coming up. Head home buzzing, tired and slightly apprehensive about the stuff that needs to be done in a few hours.

    
    

    Friday 16^th of July

    After 2 hours sleep, arise at 10. Feel mega seedy. Wake up Tina, who has had even less sleep – there is snoring happening. Pack our stuff, say au revoir to Marie the apartment owner and head to the airport.  Jerkoff cabbie takes us to Terminal 2B, we said 2C. Laden down like biblical donkeys, we push our way through the crush, only to hear “Madame, Arrete”. For some reason, we are all being made to stop part way through the terminal. Whatever is going on, the red beret army dudes with their AK47’s let me know they me know they mean business. After 15 minutes, there is a loud bang and then the boys tell me “Ça va” and we head through.  Apparently there was an abandoned bag found, and in these days of terrorism the military takes all threats seriously, so safely detonated it. I would be more scared if I was more lucid. We board, and despite the fact we are not sitting together, it’s ok as we are hungover to shit – Tina has the shakes and I am a sweaty bastard. Tina disembarks at Doobs, I continue on to Brissie, with a stopover for refuelling in Sinkers.

    
    

    3 weeks, 3 countries – a much-need, fulfilling holiday. I go home with a lighter bank account, but a full heart. 
    
    
  • Coupe du Monde Mon Ami

    Jan 06, 11

    Sunday 11^th of July, 2010

    As the previous evening was spent getting loose with an old school chum, we slept for most of the day (hey, its holidays – perfect opportunity to catch up on a few zzz's). After we woke from our slumber, we headed down to Cafe Oz to watch the Coupe Du Monde final, Spain vs Netherlands. The place is heaving, and as a Dutchie supporter, I am outnumbered. Against all odds, Tina catches up with an old chum, and I busy myself with checking out things external to the game.
    

    As the result is confirmed as being ESP 1, NED 0, the crowd erupts. Viva Espana I suppose. On the way home, I drown my sorrows in a Nutella crepe, prepared by the above lovable chap.

    
    

    Monday 12^th of July, 2010

    Today’s activity was supposed to be the Photography tour, but as the weather has taken a turn for the worse, we have rescheduled for Thurs morning. We use our time shopping, Repetto ballet flats, candles and homewares the items du jour. We then venture down the rabbit hole, more commonly known as a shopping trip to Colette. Good Lord this place is cooler than cool – polaroid cameras, funky kicks, designer clothes, artsy books,obscure cosmetics. I snuck a pic before the security guard gave me a warning.

    Dinner was another typically French meal – we both try fois gras. Despite the un-PC overtones, I have to say it is delicious but ridiculously rich; and when followed by a crème brulee, I feel like a heart attack waiting to happen.

    Sidenote: any benefits our bodies have gained from the days of walking are undone by the cholesterol-laden food we are consuming. Whilst it is flavoursome and delicious, it is bloody creamy and heavy.
    Head home, but not before enquiring as to the price of wigs displayed in ghetto hairdressers. We might have been a little tipsy. 

    
    

    Tuesday 13^th of July, 2010                                    

    Tour day – we are up early to meet our minivan driver who is taking us to Versailles palace. On the way he gives us a brief overview of French history – I would be listening if I wasn’t hungover. I did enjoy the ride though – as I have stayed in central Paris for my entire trip, it is nice to see suburbs etc. We arrive at the palace and its jam-packed. Crap, I hate fellow tourists. Especially German ones. From the looks of the high socks there are heaps of them here today. Oh Gawd, I can hear a Texas twang. Headache in T-minus 5, 4, 3, 2.....

    Anyhoo, we make our through the crush and into the palace. It is sumptuous, velvet drapes, al fresco ceilings, oil paintings. Too bad I am being bulldozed by the line to take in all of this artsy fabulousness....Grr....The room I most want to see is the Galerie des Glaces (Hall of Mirrors). 

    We then float around the Jardins - classical music is being pumped through the hedges, fountains are flowing, flowers are growing , and the wind is blowing (ha, I should write a rap album).

    Then we are dropped off back in the 9th, and have lunch: grillled sole in lemon butter for me, and a phallic kebab for Mrs Jones. After some more shopping along Champs de Elysee (army boys are strutting around in their berets - drool) and a failed trip to a flea market, we head home to relax before the celebrations of the National Day tomorrow. 
    
    
  • Miss Eiffel et Miss Ritz

    Jan 06, 11

    Friday July 9, 2010

    Today my lady friend and I decide to wander around, through the Tuileries, and then over the Seine to the Rive Gauche. Up til now I have stayed on the right bank of the river, so it is refreshing to discover this half of the city. We hug the river bank, and wander past universities, a few museums and then – hello there Eiffel Tower!
    

    
    At the risk of sounding like an asshole, Miss Eiffel didn’t really ring my bell. I appreciate that it is a great feat of engineering etc, but... I dunno. Maybe it was the swarms of tourists and dodgy blokes selling crappy souvenirs that cheapened the experience. I will however say that when we had a sit down in the park nearby, it was an awesome sight to behold. We then decided to take advantage of the “soldes” that are occurring at the moment and head to Galleries Lafayette. This place is mental – heaving with people wanting to take advantage of the financial year discounts – and the savings are decent; 40 to 70% off! There is also a small art gallery within the walls, which was exhibiting an installation by Vanessa Bruno. 

    It was a big day of walking around, so afterwards we make for home.

    
    

    Saturday July 10, 2010

    My type A personality booked a little high tea at the Hotel Ritz a few weeks ago, so that is where we are destined for today. The Hotel Ritz is quite simply, breathtakingly beautiful. It is opulent, spacious and charming – the bellhop is actually wearing a little hat like in the movies!

    The high tea is delicious – teas with a hazelnut syrup for Mrs. Jones and cafe crème for me; and then a 3 tiers of culinary goodness – madeleines, scones, a banana crème tartlet, chocolate mousse, cheesecake, mini sandwiches of crab, chicken and turkey. Not bad for 42 Euros. Sated (both physically and spiritually) we are then in the mood for a bit of shopping, and wander around the 8^th and 9^th; stopping at little savon et maison boutiques along the way. We bought a few things (j'taime Repetto), and I am getting progressively nervous about my luggage nearing maximum capacity. 

    Over the last few days we have walked past a delightful seafood restaurant located on the street beneath the apartment, so we decide to dine there for a proper French meal. We had escargot for entree – I loved it, Tina not so much. And then a steak for me and a scallope risotto for her. After dinner drinks (that turned into quite the catch up session) was spent with an old school friend, Aspley East’s own (HA!), Adam Hunter. Crazy – its 5:30am and the St. Germaine district is still pumping! As I can hear birds doing their morning chirping – we decide its time to head home. 

    Ritz, shopping and drinks with good friends; as my mate Ice Cube would say, today was a good day. 
    
    
  • Cemetaries, Churches and Sex - oh my!

    Jan 06, 11

    Wed 7th of July, 2010
    

    Today I decide to head to the cemetery. Not just any cemetery, but Père
     Lachaise, final resting place of the world’s actors, writers and celebrities. I get off the Metro at Philippe Auguste (ligne numero deux), and find myself in the 20th arrondissement. First impressions – I like it here. Perhaps it is because it is quiet (Paris is a big, noisy, hustling and bustling city). Perhaps because it is peaceful, or maybe because the graves and crypts are so lovingly constructed - architectural creativity has not been curbed, despite the melancholy subject matter. First stop – Jim Morrison. 
    
    

    
    Next stop – Chopin. Couldn’t find it, as it is being renovated (this cemetery is apparently the most visited in the world, so periodically certain high-traffic graves are gated off for maintenance.) Final stop, and the reason for today’s visit is to find Oscar Wilde, probably my favourite writer.  His tomb is adorned with a modernist angel leaning forward, as if in a ‘kissing position’. The ubiquitous annoying American tourists meant that this is only photo I took of it:
    

     

    Next on my touristy intinerary was the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF). In a word – meh. Sit in the park for a sec, before heading home and having dinner in the Madagascan restaurant located on the ground floor of my building. 

    
    

    Thurs 7th of July, 2010
    

    As far as architecture goes, churches have it goin’ on. And so today I decide to make a pilgrimage to  Sacré-Cœur Basilica. It is located in Montmartre, a hop, skip and jump from my apartment in the 10th. On the way I pass through, well, the ghetto. There are so many ‘street vendors’ (hustlers) who tout their wares to you as you pass – sunglasses, bottles of water, cigarettes, magazines. Firm shakes of the head let them know what’s up. The Basilica is the highest point in the city, so onward and upward I walk. Upon reaching the summit, you are afforded a glorious view of the city. 
    

    The Basilica does not allow photography or mobile phones inside, which is a shame as it is a really ornately constructed monument (despite this, a few snarky buggers sneak a few pics, which pisses me off no end). After a quick rest, I make my way down to see what else this district has to offer. About 15 minutes I am now in the Pigalle district, known for its more risqué and erotic overtones. Irony abounds in the fact Church and everything holy resides next to the red-light district (seriously, the street is just full of sex shops). Oh look, there’s the Moulin Rouge! 
    

    Then its home time, to make the place look presentable for Tina’s arrival this afternoon. We celebrated a bit. 
    

    Tomorrow will be a pleasure to show her ‘my town’, and find other treasures this city has within its walls. 
    

    
    
  • Parcs and Recreation

    Jan 06, 11

    Monday 5th July, 2010
    So umm. Yeah, the language school thing didn’t really work out. I turned up, but apparently my enrolment got messed up, so I cancelled it. Not a problem, as this means I have more time to wander the streets of Paris (Jesus, that makes me sound like a prostitute). Anyhoo, its Monday morning and I find myself in the 16th. After strolling around absently and munching on a croissant (not a euphemism), I happen upon the Arc de Triomphe. Good Lord it’s huge! The fact that traffic is swirling past this iconic monument is surreal.  
    

    After this, I stroll along to the Champs de Elysee. It is beautiful, but very touristy. The designer houses are located here – remember Zoe Saldana’s Givenchy gown she wore to this years Oscars? This is obviously from the same collection. 
    

    
    Oh look, over there is the Eiffel Tower! Bordered by the River Seine. 
    

    
    And here is Flamme de la Liberté, near where Princess Diana popped her clogs – visage triste :( As has been the rhythm of my days, I go home for lunch and just potter around for a bit. In the afternoon, I decide to head over to Jardin des Tuileries. On the way, I pass a few more impressive buildings, and quintessential Parisienne scenes – like an old skool mini Cooper zooming along... 
    

    Somehow I find myself at Place Vendôme, site of more couturiers, top shelf bijoux and high class hotels. Chanel is having a soiree – it is Paris fashion week after all. Hmm... looks like there is some sort of gathering outside Hotel Ritz – I ask someone what’s up and she tells me “l'actrice des États-Unis est ici, Gossip Girl”. Apparently Blake, Serena and co are in town shooting an ep. As I am not a fan of the show I leave the fans to their vigil and set off for the gardens. 
    

    Sidenote: summer days in Paris are long. These shots were taken around 10pm, but if I had to guess I would think it is 5ish, it looks like dusk. 
    

    Wikipedia tells me the Jardins des Tuileries is the garden for Tuileries palace, and in the 19th and 20th century, it was the place where Parisians celebrated, met, promenaded, and relaxed. And it certainly continues this tradition today – statues are dotted around, there are seats around ponds and rows of trees straight from the pages of a fairy tale. There are also carnival rides, making this is haven for children and the young at heart, right in the middle of Paris. I then take a looksy at the Louvre – I didn’t actually go in, just had a look. Yes, I have read the Da Vinci Code, so this is a nice way to realise the words on the page. Will go inside another time. Head home, chomping on a Nutella crepe. Ring my sister to wish her happy birthday and make sure she hasn’t burnt down the house in my absence. She hasn’t. Good girl. 
    
    
    Tuesday 6th of July.
    Today was chillaxed, just walked around the local area – found myself at both Gare de l’Est and Gare du Nord, which is fortuitous as they are the stations I need to go to the airport. The churches are big pimpin’ too. Do some shopping– holy crap, you can buy champagne in the supermarkets here! Cripes, Verve for €21? Must get that to celebrate Tina’s arrival on Thursday.
    

    In the afternoon I met up with my French penpal, which is good timing because he is going to be in Brisbane next year to study at Griffith. It will be advantageous for both of us to keep communicating, for the sake of both our competencies in language. We make a date to meet up for Bastille Day next week, at the Eiffel Tower. Avant, I decide to see a movie – Splice. C'était stupide – so full of affectation, and the world’s dumbest storyline. And I’m not just saying that because I was always a bit slow in translating the dialogue (although, it is interesting watching a movie without relying purely on the words, you pick up the gestures and physical elements alot more. Christ, this is turning into an amateur movie review...)
    Now I’m annoyed for wasting €7 and 2 hours on that drivel, so head to Café Oz to watch the World Cup semi – Netherlands vs Uruguay. This place is hysterical – do they even sell Fosters in Australia anymore? Find some other Aussies and the token Poms, and we chat about how we mangle the French language and have generally made asses of ourselves whilst en vacance.  
    

    Set the footpads homeward, but not before stopping to get a nutella crepe; mustn’t make this a habit...
    

    
    
  • Bonjour Paris!

    Jan 06, 11

    Saturday July 3, 2010
    

    Okay, now for leg 2 of this holiday. Board the plane and get settled for the 6.5 hour flight. Across the aisle are a French family – they look like they have come straight from the pages of a Bonpoint catalogue. How adorable. Scratch that – the mother wants to sit next to her kids, so I have been asked to swap with her. Now I’m sitting in that shitty seat, right at the front of the aisles. Hit it Rick –
    

    Fast forward to getting off the plane and waiting to get picked up by my shuttle. Charles de Gaulle is kind of gross, but it is one of the busiest airports in the world, so whatevs. Even though it is 9:30pm, it is still light out. Strange. My driver is Indian...I am in Paris and getting a shuttle from the airport and my driver is Indian – there’s a joke in there somewhere...
    
    

    Enter the apartment and meet the owner Marie – she is lovely and the place is beautiful. In true European style its quite small, but functional and accented with feminine, artsy touches; very much my style. Am relieved that the internet photos are true to life. 
    http://www.parisattitude.com/
    
    
    Sunday July 4, 2010.
    

    Up early and it seems like I am one of the few awake in the 10ème. Take a stroll around and soon realise that the area is quite bohemian (read: gay and black). That should make it interesting. Jump on the Metro for a few stations and grab brekky. I love how dogs are everywhere - unfortunately in Australia its not so liberal in that regard.  Everywhere you turn there is a postcard scene; on the Boulevard St-Denis there is a mini Champs de Elysee, and an antiques market on Rue Poissonnière. I pop home to cool my heels for a sec and to stash my purchases from le marché – fruit and groceries.
    

    This morning I noticed that the Musee de Picasso is not too far, and decide to hit it this afternoon. To get there I must walk along the Rue de Bretage, and past le magasins. On the way a group of people are causing a racket, banging on drums and marching down the street. Not sure what the point of that was. Merde, the museum is closed for renovations. Wander back and grab an early dîner – steak and béarnaise sauce. Yeah baby.  
    

    Today I found a dachshund book and an actual dachshund – Theo will be pleased :) I also think the Vélib' system is delightful - a public bike hire system. For €1 the bike is available for hire for a minimum of 1/2 hour, with stations dotted around Paris - ingenious. 
    

    Unexpectedly I have found that Paris has some of the most inadvertently hysterical signs and store names –case in point:
    

    Tomorrow I start my language class, so leg it home to rest home to be ready for the morn. 
    

    
    
  • Happy Birthday to me?!

    Jan 06, 11

    Last few days in Doobs. Wednesday and Thursday I take it easy like Sunday morning, just pop out to the shopping centres. I purchase a cool souvenir - a pendant of my name in Arabic, bling bling! On Thursday night I meet up with the McKinsey crew at a sponsored event. They all seem lovely, despite the fact the poor souls have to endure Tina on a daily basis (ha!). Perhaps that could be the reason for the copious drinking.  
    

    Friday we head off to the Atlantis, for brunch and another pool party. This brunch is too legit to quit - for DHS325 (approx AUD$100) its unlimited food and drink. The website states there are 228 dishes - this is true. And there is no 'filler' - its all good in the hood. There are stations for noodles, dessert, salad, roasts, seafood - everything. There are even stations for cheese and bread. I spy a cheery chap standing in front of a 'tropical' drink station and decide then and there to only drink my alcohol if it is packaged in fruit. 
    
    

    
    
    As the brunch winds down, a bunch of wait-staff come over and present the table with a cake - A has done it again, although this time the birthday greetings are for me. My birthday is in October, he is just being funny. Dubai humour I suppose. 
    

    And then we hit the pool party. We watch Netherlands thrash Brasil, and run into Tina's boss (hi Tim!). After a few hours we head home. 
    So what can I say about Dubizzle? It's a nice place, and I think that while I didn't see everything it had to offer (didn't get a chance to see Burj Al Arab or take a day trip to Abu Dhabi) I have seen most of it. Here's my Dubai denouement:
    
    

    • it is a shoppers paradise, and if you come at the right time, there are very decent bargains on offer - up to 70% off designer brands in some cases. 
    • expect that in some cases there may be a language/comprehension barrier. 
    • respect the culture and cover up. There are signs displayed at the entrances to shopping centres asking for women to cover their shoulders and wear clothing at least to their knees, but despite these warnings, some tourists still do not comply. Whilst I did not see any 'mall police' in action, apparently there have been cases of some young women asked to leave and return when they are dressed more appropriately. I think you should show courtesy to the country's beliefs and not dress like a skank - in fact, that's pretty much good advice for anywhere, Muslim country or not. 
    • pedestrian crossings are more of a 'suggestion' for cars to stop, so be careful when walking around the roads. 
    • take the time to see the neighbouring cities, and see the 'real' landscape of Dubai. 
    • when compares to Australian cost of living, its pretty cheap. Also, the fact the ratio against the Aussie dollar is 1:3 doesn't hurt either. 
    • usually prices are rounded up to the nearest DHS5. 
    • finally, what happens in Dubai, stays in Dubai - unless you have a blog, haha!

    Special shout-out to the boys of Club 1801, thanks for letting me stay for the week. If you're ever in Brisneyland, feel free to drop by so I can repay the favour. Also, special love-out to Tina, I am still your friend despite your gassy tendencies. 

    Shukran. 

    And now, on to Paris!
    
    
  • Oman - Oh Man!

    Jan 06, 11

    Up at sparrow’s fart, as the driver is scheduled to pick me up between 8 and 8:30. We pick up a family who are also partaking in the day’s festivities. The drive is 2.5 hours, and is a perfect opportunity to take in the scenery of outer Dubai. I didn’t expect the landscape to be so rocky – I expected much more desert, sandy dunes etc. 
    
    

    
    We made a stop at a sort of makeshift marketplace – selling mostly a mixture of rugs, plants, fruit, homewares and toys. Despite the store owners best efforts, I walk away empty-handed. After about an hour, we arrive at the dock and board the Dhow. 
    

    
    It is beautifully sunny. We made three stops throughout the day, for about 45 minutes each time. Went swimming and snorkelling - the water is crystal clear, a bit warm and alot saltier than back home. 
    

    Patriotic side-note: I love being an Australian - the fact that my youth was spent paddling around in the pool and the beach means I am naturally comfortable in the water - something that I have always taken for granted, but has come in so handy today. A family from London
    that were obviously Muslim very timidly made off the boat, dressed in full length clothes, flippers, goggles, as well as full makeup and earrings, watches, rings, bangles - the whole kit and caboodle. I just jumped off the deck. 
    

    Lunch was prepared, of traditional Arabian fare. On our way home, we were stopped by border police, who was a little scary – the guard was kitted out in Desert Storm fatigues, an AK47 and a “I don’t take shit” expression. After a few tense minutes, we were allowed through. Overall it was a really enjoyable, relaxing, long day (home at 5:30pm, which makes that 9 hours total), and I highly recommend it to anyone spending some time in Dubai. 
    

    http://www.arabiahorizons.com

    
    
  • Trippin' turns to Shoppin'

    Jan 06, 11

    Sunday 28th of June, 2010
    

    Today whilst the adults go and earn their crust, I am alone to have a day of play. I decide to check out the Mall of the Emirates, and see what this Ski Dubai thing is all about. Malls in Dubai are no joke – there are stores for all occasions – nursery ware, food courts, cinemas, designer and cut price clothing, everything. I buy a few things and (after a few wrong turns and lost manoeuvers) make my way to Ski Dubai. 
    
    

    
    First impressions – wow, its kind of small. But it is impressive – clever clogs engineers have managed to recreate the atmosphere of an entirely enclosed winter wonderland, in Dubai. Let’s take a moment to think about that again – there is snow in the middle of the fricken desert. Any way you cut it, its pretty incredible. Whilst I did think it was awe-inspring, my participation ended at taking a few snaps. 
    
    

    I decided to make my journey home via the Metro, the much feted, newly installed, rail transport system. It was a joy to experience – clean and reliable. It was slightly unnerving to see a fully armed guard patrolling the platform, but I guess ticket evaders know they ain’t gonna be any fuckin’ about, son! Dinner was quiet – a cheeky Italian at Madinat, with lovely night-time views of the Burj.
    
    
    Monday 29th June, 2010
    

    Monday was pretty much the same – more shopping, this time at Dubai Mall again. I bought a pillow in the shape of a Hershey’s chocolate bar, and had lunch at Fat Burger. The afternoon was spent lounging on the beach.  I naturally compare all beaches to Queensland’s, which are objectively, the best in the world (hey, this is my blog, I can say whatever I want). The Jumeirah beach (2mins from the apartment – D.I.E) is quite nice – not too crowded, and whilst surfers would be lamenting the lack of breaks, it provides families with ease of knowledge knowing their little ones can play in the water in relative safety. However, the temperature of the water is a slightly offputting  – it is strange to swim in water the same temperature as piss.
    

    Tonight sees Chile play Brazil for a place in the World Cup 2010 Quarter finals – so we all head down to the newly opened Movenpick Hotel to watch the big game. Final stats – Brazil 3, Chile 0. Jade 2 beers, Tina 1 martini, Anwar 1 vodka+cranberry and Ian 1 beer.  Good game all. 
    

    
    
  • Dirty Deira

    Jan 06, 11

    
    Today is Miss Tina’s birthday. We kick off the day with a stroll down the Marina Walk. As we pass the buildings and multiple Starbucks, it is evident that this is very much ‘Ex-pat town’ and the nicer side of Dubai. Have breakfast at a French-style cafe named Paul (practice for next week I guess). Make our way back to a lovely little place called ‘Boutique 1’, a favourite of the birthday girl – designer clothes and homewares, trés chic. Head home ‘sweaty ballsy’ – its not so much the temperature of Dubai, its the humidity can make things difficult. Still, mustn’t grumble. Head home to see if A is up and ready for our trip to Deira.
    

    
    

    Deira (or Dirty Deira) is the ‘real Dubai’ – markets and older style buildings that do not have the superficial sheen of the developments in and around JBR. To get there , we must board an Abra, a small water taxi. I am warned that we might need to take our life jackets, and that health and safety is pushed aside in Dubai – this is all true. After paying 1AED each (AUD 30 cents) we are transported across Dubai Creek to Deira. 

    
    

    We meander through the markets selling identical wares (“come on Miss, I give you the black dress, best price, very nice”). I buy a Keffiyeh for Theo¸ and pair of slippers for myself. I also buy a baby pair as a nice souvenir. Those of you who have seen Sex and the City will be aware of the scene where the girls go to the souk and are invited to buy discount designer handbags – “the forbidden experience” – it is very true, but non-threatening. As long as you firmly say no and are polite, you will be fine.

    
    

    Afterwards we wander through the maze of alleyways, past the museum and decide to cross back over the creek and head to the Dubai Mall, where we have afternoon spa treatments booked. This place loves aquariums – there is another one here! Although it sprank a leak earlier this year, apparently it is back to new. Hmm.... cynical.... There is also an ice rink in the centre as well – Dubizzle does the ish big stylie! 

    
    

    After being on the receiving end of the world’s most aggressive back massage (seriously, I have bruises now) we make our way to the world’s biggest fountain in the world, the imaginatively titled Dubai Fountain. The fountain performs its aqua show every half hour in the evening, and is choreographed to classical music that is played simultaneously throughout the complex. Having dinner at the Mango Tree in the Souk Al Bahar provides the perfect vantage point to take all of this in, as well as admire Burj Khalifa. After a sumptuous Thai feast, A pulls a swifty and has organised the wait-staff to sing Happy Birthday to Tina. 

    
    

    Aww Bless. It’s been a big day, but infinitely enjoyable.

    
    
  • Middle East Me!

    Jan 06, 11

    After a 16 hour flight (starting at 2:30am), I am finally here, in the land of oil. I won't bore you with details of my journey (2x 7.5 hour flights, with a stopover in Singapore) the food served on the plane (not bad, especially liked the teriyaki chicken slider burger) or the numerous grievances complete strangers have inflicted on me (can you go to jail for murdering somebody because they keep putting their seat back?).

    
    

    First impressions of Dubai (or the Airport I should say) is this place is clean and modern. I love how the Middle East has such an identifiable culture - sand, pyramids, Arabian moons etc. Perhaps the locals feel otherwise, the way I feel when I see Australian stores draped in the Southern Cross and kangaroo and koala motifs. I also find the national dress of the men (the dishdash) quite enchanting. As the airport is largely a stopover site, the space is caverous and a melting pot of the world's travellers. As I chat with 2 bubbly Americans, we comment on the striking beauty of an Ethiopian woman in elegant dress. 
    

    
    

    
    I meet Tina and A at the airport and we jump in a 'ladies taxi' home. By the power of Greyskull its hot here in Dubai. In actuality its probably not, but as I am still in relatively warm clothes from Australia, I am feeling it. So much construction. We pass Burj Khalifa on our way, and its top spire seems ridiculous - a true skyscraper. The apartment is in Jumeirah Beach Residences (JBR according to locals), and is one of 30 000 in the development. Yes, 30 000. All pretty much identical, which I am sure would confuse many a drunken reveller trying to make their way home. Once inside, I am greeted warmly by the other men of the house, and informed of a pool party this afternoon at Atlantis Hotel. 

    
    

    So off we trot. I have heard much about the Atlantis from media - the hotel opened to much fanfare in September 2008, with celebrities in attendance. Also, the upcoming Portugal vs Brazil game will be televised on huge screens. And this is definitely a pool party - the beautiful people are crammed around the colossal pool in clumps, there is a DJ playing dance music, and the ubiquitous beach ball is being lobbed around the place. 

    
    

    After saying a cheerio to a few of A's friends, we up sticks and find a table near the bar. After waiting for at least an hour and repeating our order perhaps 5 times, our comedian of a waiter finally brings our drinks and meals. Have a heartattack when I see the price of food - 70 bucks? Heart attack subsides when I remember that Aussie dollar is approximately 3 times the Dirham. Disappointment and annoyance sets in when Tina and I realise our AUD$23 caesar salad is in reality no more than a bowl of lettuce leaves, with 3 croutons and 2 bits of chicken. We then wander around the Atlantis hotel itself, past the restaurants and boutiques for the well-heeled and I get a touristy pic at the aquarium. After a short spell outside at the pool party, the hours of flying and crossing international timezones set in and I decide to have an early night. 

    
    

    I like Dubai, it is charming in a novelty way. It seems there is a slight lack of planning - apparently the roads can be challenging - if you miss a turn off it takes some distance to double-back. But I think the interaction between all people from different backgrounds (who all seem to have a zest for life) is quite enticing, and I can now see why many people have decided to make this their home for a while. 
    
    
  • Trippin'- getting ready...

    Jan 06, 11

    So, I guess I better pull my finger out and do this blog. I am not sure what to say, but I think if I just keep typing whilst my brain is sort of on track and engaged on the subject, hopefully something nearly coherent will be created.

    Today is Tuesday 22 June. The time is 11:10pm. Any normal person, who has to work in the morning, get a 9 year old to school and is trying to fend off the start of a cough would be in bed. If that is the equation, well then I guess I am not normal. You see I have a trip to go on in 2 days – a week in Dubai with my best friend Tina J, followed by 2 weeks in Paris.

    
    

    
    The Dubai bit is because I want to see the place the Divine Miss J has made home for the past 2 years, and I guess I am curious about the Middle East. In my mind, the Middle East is still somewhat “exotic”. I can’t remember hearing too much about the UAE in the early 2000’s, and yet here we are, in 2010 and I believe we all have some sort of mental construct about what life is like in Dubai and Abu Dhabi.
    
    

    I am not sure what to expect. My inherent arrogance prohibits me from listening to other’s views on any given subject, but from what I have heard, it is extremely multicultural (“90% expat” seems to have been bandied about a lot), a shopping oasis in the desert and bloody hot. Kerrist, did I really just type “a shopping oasis in the desert”?? Ah well, it’s hard to turn off the ‘marketing gene’. In terms of the environment, June is the stupidest time to go to Dubai, as that is the hottest time of the year. Oh well, best laid plans etc. Also, I am going over for Miss Tina’s birthday, so the timing was sort of out of my hands.
    
    

    I am looking forward to exploring the city of Dubai. In truth, I am not much of a shopper these days –yes it’s enjoyable (hello, I’m a girl), but it’s not really my thing anymore. What really turns me on of late is culture and history – I am quite intrigued to see how the tenets of Muslim culture have been integrated into Western consumerism – the balance and interplay between two strong lifestyles that are seemingly direct counterparts. Also, Dubai is a city that has experienced rapid change – it will be interesting to see if this change has been handled intelligently (infrastructure and thought put into it) or just a sort of “game of Jenga that has gone mental” (in the words of the great Karl Pilkington.)
    
    

    On the list are Burj Al Arab, which in my mind is the quintessential “Dubai” image – a monument of engineering, a hotel shaped to resemble a billowing sail. Also, Atlantis hotel, Burj Khalifa (world’s biggest building, a 828m, 160 floor monstrosity), Ski Dubai and the famous Dubai Brunch.
    
    

    If the weather was a little cooler, I could check out the Tiger Woods designed golf course, as well as get into a bit of dune bashing. Alas, ~40C temperatures will force all activities to remain indoors. Further research (a half-assed Google search) have revealed a theme park built by Ferrari is scheduled to open in Abu Dhabi, October 2010.

    Which brings me to Paris. Ah Paris. This trip will be the culmination of a lifelong dream, and a gift to myself. Anyone who knows me....... is probably the only person reading this blog, hahah!
    
    

    As I was saying, anyone who knows me knows I have a hard-on for France. I watch French movies, have a major crush on Vincent Cassel¸ listen to French rap, watch French news, follow the French football team (even though they suck in the current World Cup), learn the French language – basically I am one of those saddos who really likes the subject. Also, if you are close to me, you know I do not do things by halves – all in baby! Big cut big money!

    The actual idea for this trip was in March, when Miss Tina came home for a holiday. She started talking about going to Paris for her birthday, for a week or so. That got the mousewheel in my head turning.... and once I decide something, I do it. Don’t say I ain’t disciplined peeps!
    
    

    So I thought I would build in a trip to Dubai before the trip to Paris. And given that Bastille Day is the 14^th of July, I thought, why not make it 2 weeks in Paris – in for a penny, in for a pound as they say (one day I am going to find out who the F they are...)
    
    

    Anyhoo, so now I had the dates, and I began crafting an itinerary.... I thought – why not do a language course whilst in the city of choice? That will make the words ‘sink in’ a bit better. So I booked that. Then I decided that I would find an apartment rather than a hotel, so I could make the place my own – I like my independence, so having a full kitchen and washer is very necessary.
    
    

    Other tours I have booked are a trip to Versailles, and a photography tour (my new love). I did try and get a cooking tour as well (I am a try-hard foodie), but the fecking thing wasn’t operating on the day I wanted it, so we gave it a pass. Again, not so much interested in the shopping aspect; although it’s Financial Year sale time – holler! Same goes for the big-ticket items, such as the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Champs de Elysee, Jardins des Tuilleries, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Père Lachaise Cemetery (where Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison are buried), but really, it’s about smaller, more intimate meetings.
    
    
    I just want to walk around the city I have dreamt about since I was 14 and watched La Haine for the first time. I just want to interact with my crappy French with locals, to ask for a serve of Pommes Parisienne¸ to ask where the closest Metro is. All of these simple encounters will truly be a heartprint.
    
    

    I just worked out that I will be in Paris a) whilst the World Cup is on and b) when the 3^rd State of Origin is going to be played. Will have to make my way to Cafeoz for that one.

    The intent of this blog is purely selfish, it is for posterity’s sake, for me to create an online record of my daily adventures whilst on holiday; and I don’t expect anyone else in the world to read it. I would like to say that I will be a good little nerd and update this blog daily – but experience has shown that when I give myself strict guidelines, they are more than likely broken; so I will just say that I will update when I have time.

    
    
    Until next time,

    À bientôt!

    
    
• FOLIO

  FOLIO
  • Links to written work

    Parklife @ Botanic Gardens, Brisbane (1/10/11) Faster Louder (5 Oct 2011)

    
    

    Aussie Hip Hop festival coming to Brisbane Faster Louder (15 July 2011)

    
    

    Unconvention Interview Junior (10 June 2011) 

    
    

    Yo Gabba Gabba Faster Louder (3 June 2011)

    
    

    Get Low movie review Scene Magazine (1 June 2011)

    
    

    Die Roten Punkte - Glam Rockers Scene Magazine (1 June 2011)

    
    

    Illy - 11am drinks Scene Magazine (1 June 2011)

    
    

    Lady Gaga 'Born This Way' album review Junior (24 May 2011)

     

    Kate Anderson Launch Review Junior (20 May 2011)

    
    

    Mind Over Matter are coming for you Scene Magazine (4 May 2011)

     

    Daft Punk "Alive" directed by Emile Hirsch Lost at E Minor (2 May 2011)

    
    

    Howl and Babies (Movie Reviews) Scene Magazine (26 April 2011)

    
    

    This Is It The Michael Jackson Experience - Kenny Wizz interview Rave Magazine (26 April 2011)

     

    The Messenger (DVD Review) Rave Magazine (19 April 2011)

    
    

    Beatshow 7 Live Review Junior (14 April 2011)

     

    New Beastie Boys Album: Hot Sauce Committee Part Two Lost at E Minor (12 April 2011)

     

    Red Bull Music Academy Review Junior (12 April 2011)

     

    Paul - Movie Review The Vine (7 April 2011)

    
    

    Supanova Pop Culture Expo 2011 - Review Rave Magazine (5 April 2011)

    
    

    Bats Magazine Launch The Vine (4 April 2011)

    
    

    Incredible paper-cut artwork by Tomoko Shioyasu Lost at E Minor (30 March 2011)

    
    

    Supanova Pop Culture Expo - Denis O’Hare Interview 

    Rave Magazine (29 March 2011) 

    
    

    Futuristic 10 metre touchscreen from the Netherlands 

    Lost at E Minor (11 February 2011)

    
    

    Labryinth made entirely out of salt 

    Lost at E Minor (10 February 2011) 

    
    

    Saint Surly and Monster Monster EP Launch 

    The Vine (2 February 2011) 
• PROJECTS

  PROJECTS
  • Examples of marketing/communications experience

    VULY TRAMPOLINES

    www.vulytrampolines.com

    • creation of webcopy for revamped website

    
    

    BRISBANE FRENCH FESTIVAL 2011

    www.brisbanefrenchfesival.com.au

    • copywriting for website, internal and external communications
    • monitor and liaise with media outlets
    • oversee marketing activities
    • provide general advice into overall event management
• Checkins

  Checkins

  Badges

  Profile
  • L'Académie Hotel

    247 St. Pauls Terrace

    May 19, 12
  • French Twist

    The Barracks

    May 18, 12
  • Oh Hello!

    LOT 13 Marshall St.

    May 18, 12
  • Limes Roof Top Bar

    Constance St.

    May 18, 12
  • Guzman Y Gomez

    1000 Ann St.

    May 18, 12
  • Kerbside

    Constance St.

    May 18, 12
  • Waterfront Place

    1 Eagle St.

    May 17, 12
  • Campos Coffee

    11 Wandoo St.

    May 17, 12
  • Domestic Terminal

    BNE Airport

    May 17, 12
  • Melbourne Airport (MEL)

    Airport Dr.

    May 17, 12
  • DFO South Wharf

    20 Convention Centre Pl.

    May 16, 12
  • Mad Mex Fresh Mexican Grill

    The Dining Hall, Level 2 Melbourne Central

    May 16, 12
  • Westfield Southland

    1239 Nepean Hwy.

    May 13, 12
  • South Melbourne Market

    322-326 Coventry St.

    May 12, 12
  • Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG)

    Brunton Ave.

    May 12, 12
  • The Palmz Rooftop @ Carlton Club

    Level 4, 193 Bourke St

    May 11, 12
  • Las Chicas

    203 Carlisle St

    May 10, 12
  • Alliance Française de Melbourne

    51 Grey St

    May 10, 12
  • Pleasance House

    176 Collins Street

    May 09, 12
  • The Wheeler Centre

    176 Little Lonsdale St

    May 09, 12
• Tweets

  Tweets

  Profile
  • If a guy can't dance but is really good at drawing I'm always super conflicted.

    May 20, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @bonita_218 HHHHUUUUUGGGG

    May 20, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS in reply to bonita_218 Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • 14 photos of me uploaded to Facebook over the weekend, and I look like shite in all of them #cool 😒

    May 20, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @irrellievant hiya, sorry couldn't be there to witness your success today, my son is really ill. Sounds like it went well tho!

    May 20, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS in reply to irrellievant Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • Kevin Durant is ridiculous #NBAPlayoffs

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • “Wonderful World” by Sam Cooke is my new jam. ♫ http://t.co/er1g1wnQ

    May 19, 12 from This Is My Jam Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @ErikVeland as one of your few black friends, I am now slightly nervous.

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS in reply to ErikVeland Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @tj2606 oh that's nice. Give that Anwar a fat birthday kiss from me! 🎂💋☺

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS in reply to tj2606 Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @agent_x Happy Birthday! ☕🍰

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS in reply to agent_x Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • After the last 48 hours of shenanigans, you'll forgive me if the most strenuous activity I do tonight is stirring this cup of tea

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @annasamara like Chris Rock says, women need food, water and compliments. And the occasional pair of shoes :)

    May 19, 12 from web in reply to annasamara Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @annasamara especially when you're as shallow as me ;)

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS in reply to annasamara Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • @bonita_218 she obviously has fantastic taste :P

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS in reply to bonita_218 Reply, Retweet, Favorite
  • Was going to unfriend someone, but then they commented on a pic and said I look gorgeous; so I guess they can stay 😜

    May 19, 12 from Tweetbot for iOS Reply, Retweet, Favorite