f Here Comes Miss-IZ Haiiiiiiiry Legs <$BlogRSDURL$>

Thursday, April 29, 2004

Oh, won't anyone liberate the North Koreans?


Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Work pays me once a month. I don't why (perhaps to cut down transaction fees or something) but in any case, poor budgeting practices mean that days 20-30 - no make that days 15 to 30 are pretty lean days.

After factoring in monthly household expenses, transport, savings, guitar lesson & belly dancing class fees, student loan repayments, Red Cross donations, health insurance etc I have like, 40 bucks a week left! I suppose I could gyp the Red Cross but then I'd certainly go to Hell instead of just probably. So last week I embraced a Brave New fiscal policy: instead of spending 15 dollars a day on breakfast, lunch and afternoon sugar hits at the lolly shop I thought I'd see if I could survive a week on just Cup-a-soup and toast.

And could I?


Because Cup-a-Soup?


Just to continue the Ms-Hairy-Legs-is-cheap theme, the U.N.S.W Annual Bookfair was on last week. It used to be held every two years over a one week period at old Unisearch House. In the mornings there'd be long lines of people queueing well into Barker Street just waiting to get in. It was huge. I loved trolling down the aisles keeping an eye out for a bargain buy. Once I found an old decrepit copy of short stories by D'Arcy Niland for fifty cents! (I have my been looking for a copy of The Penguin Best Stories of D'Arcy Niland since 1996 and that was the closest I've ever come). For some reason, I can't resist buying Latin text books and I've picked up several from the Cambridge series for about a dollar each.

Since 2000 the Bookfair has become an annual event, now held at the Roundhouse. While I don't think the range has been as good as previous years, there's still plenty of books for everyone. Having recently finished Under the Tuscan Sun, I'm sort of into stories of expats abroad and found two of Peter Mayle's Provence journals in the biography section. For Ed, who is currently at the Hague meting out justice to Yugoslav war criminals (and padding his CV), I found a Charles II biography published in 1932 for 2 dollars. I also spotted a copy of Dianetics: the Modern Science of Mental Health in the fiction section (hehehe) for $1 but even when you factor in its inherent piss-take value, that's still exorbitant.

Outside of the Bookfair, Ts Book Exchange in Randwick is a top draw 2nd hand book store. It has rarely let me down. The one next to the Ritz Cinemas is pretty good too. It is best to avoid the Elizabeth's Books franchise stores however, on account of them being crap.


Sunday, April 18, 2004

I am really creeped out by Circque du Soleil's John Wayne Gacy-inspired clowns.


Okay I tell a lie. Consistent with my love of Neighbours, I just can't stop watching this crap. I note that on accepting her Silver Logie for most popular actress, Lisa Chapell served a nice backhander to Our Delta with a "Thanks Delta! [and inexplicably] I've been drinking since I got here ." Maybe she'd been nervous. Dude - it's the Logies, no-one cares (e.g the cast of Friends.) Our Delta was all, WTF bitch? Also, Eddie Maguire is gonna get bashed by Megan Gale's boyfriend for making her the butt of a boob joke.


Having caught up on all my Trademarks lectures, I'm treating myself to an evening of ... the Logies! I must get out more. Channel Nine is really setting it up as the Oscars of the antipodes (a task doomed to failure considering the general quality of Australian television - NZ readers, think "Shortland Street") with full coverage of the red carpet arrivals. Anyway, there's even a behind-the-scenes preparation segment (sponsored by Maybelline in case anyone missed out on the product placement). Jacinta Stapleton is going to get fired though because she let it slip that she might not have used Maybelline crap after all.

Catriona Rowntree was a total BITCH to the French-Canadian representative from Cirque du Soleil. He answered one of her questions with a "Yes Ma'am", and she snickered and mimicked him: "Yes MA'AM, haw! haw! haw!". I guess Australian ladies mustn't be used to politeness and chivalry. And then she proceeded to all but roll her eyes and cut him off as he tried to plug the show with his halting, accented english. Way to be an ambassador for your country Cat!

And then there was Sam Newman with some hot, surgeon-enhanced fox. I read the caption on the screen as "Sam Newman - the tooly show" and thought that someone on Channel Nine's production staff was terribly ballsy, but then I put my glasses on and no, it actually read "footy". Dammit.

Hmmm, I seemed to have missed Delta and the Poo’s much anticipated entrance. And Suzie Ellerman's rumoured bald head. Curse my unwaivering commitment to academic excellence.

On reviewing the Logies nominations list, it doesn't seem as though the readers of TV Week interpret the meaning of “Talent” the same way as say, the dictionary: Isobel Lucas? Wha-? The singular Home & Away casting requirement for chicks seems to be that they be hooooot, which Isobel certainly is (although that really doesn’t explain the presence Rebecca Cartwright, Tammin Sursok and her menagerie of sisters, does it ?). Incidentally, the same requirement is also mandated for HR staff at all major law firms.

Okay, bored now. Where’s that knitting bag?


There are some interesting events coming up in the next few weeks:

First up – Sulid Gud, which is Paul McDermott’s latest comedy incarnation.

And then – there’s Daniel Kitson, fresh from the Melbourne Comedy Festival.

And THEN – the 15th Sydney Middle Eastern Dance Festival is on starting 29 April.

Come June there’s also the Lord of the Rings Symphony, which I’ll probably take my sister to for her birthday as she is obsessed with anything related to Middle Earth. Which means I need to save up my pennies. Maybe some dollars too.

Speaking of Middle Earth I spotted, in a bargain bin at Borders, a copy of “the Origins of Tolkiens' Middle-Earth for Dummies”. A must-have for any private library and as indispensable as “Google for Dummies”, I’m sure.


The popularity of the idiotic buffoonery that is Merrick & Rosso: Unplanned continues to confound me. I've never listened to their radio programme but have been assured that's it the highest rating FM programme in the country. WTF? Is it anything like their crappy show, on which they sit on a couch and give insipid answers to trite questions posed by the bogan audience members? Last week's highlight was this probing question,

Q: If you guys had George Bush and John Howard in a room for fifteen minutes with a box of dress-ups, how would you dress them?

which really allowed the hosts to display their rapier-like wit by answering:

A: As sailors!

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA! HAHA-! ... Oh, *siiighhh*. Would be the booming guffaw coming from me - if I was a member of the idiot audience.


Friday, April 16, 2004

I've no idea why, but the four-day weekend just sucked all the energy out of me. I was absolutely fucking useless at work this week. Luckily our partner is away until next Friday and Simon took the opportunity to take some "unofficial" annual leave days. Anyway, apart from attending court for a bit and drafting some subpoenas and shit, all I did was sit at the computer and read Survivor recaps (gee, I hate Kathy), review the league ladder for the footy tipping comp and play the Times Scrabble challenge. My highest score so far is 134 points and I thought I was white hot shit until I saw that the highest score was 500+ (!) and realised that tragically, I am only of the regular variety.

Anyway the rollercoaster of fun continues tonight when I will be studying and researching for my trademarks paper. I'm going to have to take some downers I think, I'm that excited.

I also have to brush up on all things related to Dr Who. Yeah, we're meeting up with a potential client whose interests include "keeping up with the latest in computer technology...and watching Dr Who reruns." The things I do for my firm. Really: the lunch time netball comp with those bitches from Deutsche Bank, unspeakable humiliation from obligatory office party karaoke, interfirm soccer day which led to getting hit in the face no less than THREE times. I'm expecting a big pay-rise fuckers.

Meanwhile, the lovely boy I'm seeing is into his 12th hour of a friend's bucks party. Now at first blush, it might SEEM that he is more exciting than me BUT (crucially) the buck's party is being attended by a bunch of socialist intellectuals and while he maintains that they've spent the day playing paintball (and other things that would evidence their masculinity), I'm fairly certain they are just sitting around reliving the glory days of high school debating.


There is something about Pete Murray's nasal, raspy 'singing' that reminds me so much of Shannon Noll. Stop buying his album, everyone!!

In other news, this is the third day the Fametracker forums are not working. 72 hours without shallow celeb gossip and speculation. I can't go on living like this.


Sunday, April 11, 2004

Vain Bitches Who Love Clothes and Money – oh, I mean - Fashions on the Field at Sydney’s Autumn Racing Carnival:

Angelique Boyce, 16, was caught out when she won Eagle Farm's fashion prize under the false name of Melanie Winship. The daughter of a serial Fashions on the Field contestant, Maureen Boyce, the pair claimed they made the name change so the daughter's chance of success would not be jeopardised by the mother's many wins…

…But event organisers felt differently and stripped Angelique of her title and prize…

According to Maureen Boyce her daughter was simply being victimised by "jealous bitches".

Well, I for one find it refreshing that there’s at least one youth today so dedicated to developing her future career, as a Target catalogue model and Eastern Suburbs trophy wife. Don’t neglect your bridge game and don't let those bitcas get you down! They're jus' jellus.


Saturday, April 10, 2004

What can you do about bad drivers when you're merely a pedestrian? I used to get so mad at people who wouldn't slow down or stop at a zebra crossing even though I was half way across it; I used to yell "Stupid fucker!!" after their increasingly distant bumpers. When I crossed at the lights, I'd glare at drivers who looked like they weren't going to come to a stop on red, daring them to run me over; once I banged on a guy's bonnet and yelled at him for (illegally) queuing across the intersection.

I don't do that stuff anymore because I realise that potential quadreplegia possibly isn't worth a moment's ire sated. But last night while I was crossing the intersection (on red with the little green man clearly in my favour), I saw a car turn into the street I was crossing and the driver obviously had no intention of stopping for me so I did. As the fucker goes past me, I see him shoving his face against the window while TALKING ON HIS MOBILE. What an asshole. I should have hit him in the face with my bag of donuts. Damn drivers.


Friday, April 09, 2004

Yesterday I had lunch at Wagamammas with gals from work. One mentioned that last week she was hit on by two random suits in the CBD after her Masters class had finished. One was a Citibank VP who called out to her in the street and just started following her. After fending that one off another guy, an investment banker, tapped her on the shoulder and tried to chat her up. Each one informed her that he was struck by her devastating beauty and would she kindly make his evening by getting to know him over a drink?

It sort of reminded me of last Saturday when I was accosted by a guy in the street. Except that that guy was a surfer bum, who wore flame-printed black board shorts (ew) and a faded old t-shirt covered in dirt and body grease. Was he struck by my devastating beauty? No. Did he want me to engage in witty repartee with him over lunch? No. But he did ask:

“Hey, do you have twenty bucks?”

What the FUCK? Is that what street-beggars are asking for these days? Twenty DOLLARS? Surely he meant two? Still I appreciated the fact that he actually approached me to ask. Unlike the spate of CBD beggars of recent years who think it is enough to just bags a street corner and sit there all day with a sign that says “Please give me money”. If you can’t be arsed selling magazines for the Big Issue or filling out your Centrelink job diary with fake interviews in order to receive benefits from my corporate taxes or even playing the recorder through your nose like that dude in Chinatown, could you please at least put some damn effort into your begging? It’s the LEAST you can do.


The Sun Newspaper seems to be taking sides over Beck's scandalous affair . Hehehehe.


Just what exactly has Natalie Portman done with her hair? The Louise Brooks do makes her look 35 and given that her hair is naturally curly I can only imagine how hilariously shit it looks when she wakes up in the morning. I mean, I've often had bad hair myself but from the incompetence of others not by choice!

Nevertheless, Nat's impeccable upbringing, Ivy education, and perpetual grace make her completely deserving of those Hepburn comparisons.


Thursday, April 08, 2004

Yeah so work has been really tough the past few weeks. Like today when I had to watch five hours of FOX Sports boxing footage. From those five hours of my wasted youth, I learnt that to make it in boxing:

1. you MUST have a penchant for Vaseline;

2. you MUST find the UGLIEST, SHINIEST polyester material from which to make your trunks and matching cape;


3. you MUST have a high tolerance threshold for other men's sweaty backs, chests and fetid BO.

For the ladies, the latest news from boxing's fashion front is that gliterry, silver platforms are still in. Repeat. Glittery silver platforms are STILL IN. And if you want to gain an edge on the other pre-fight dancing chicks don't wear your platforms with any piece of clothing that covers your arsecheeks.


Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Gasp! Do you really think that Becks cheats on Posh?

I am so disillusioned by marriage right now. If those two can't make it, who can?



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