Thursday, December 30, 2004

Went to see The Motorcycle Diaries today. Abundant hotness and charm. Everything about this movie is good.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

STUFF 2004
It’s the end of the year and, well, it's the thing to do, so... Lists, thoughts and so forth.

Le Tigre, This Island
Kings Of Leon, Aha Shake Heartbreak
The Hives, Tyrannosaurus Hives
Dallas Crane, Dallas Crane
The Von Bondies, Pawn Shoppe Heart
Modest Mouse, Good News For People Who Love Bad News
PJ Harvey, Uh Huh Her [I only wish the song "Uh Huh Her" was also on it. It rules!]
The Datsuns, Outta Sight Outta Mind
The Cops, Stomp On Tripwires
Pink Grease, This Is For Real
The Fiery Furnaces, Blueberry Boat
Interpol, Antics
Ben Kweller, On My Way
The Libertines, The Libertines
22-20s, 22-20s
Björk, Medulla
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Abattoir Blues/ The Lyre Of Orpheus

The Darkness
The Von Bondies
PJ Harvey
The Strokes
The Kings Of Leon
Gillian Welch & David Rawlings
Franz Ferdinand
The Fiery Furnaces
Pink Grease
The Libertines
The Datsuns
The Cops
The Pictures
Bit By Bats
Midnight Juggernauts
Snap! Crakk!
The Mess Hall
The Vines
The Stands
The Black Keys
The Shine
Cat Power

DIG! – Ruled!
The Return
The Five Obstructions
Control Room
Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind
Goodbye Lenin
Kill Bill Vol. 2

Dogville – don’t fight me on this!
Napoleon Dynamite – Haylie Duff will survive another six months because of the indie cred she gets for being in this movie, no?

The OC
One Tree Hill
Little Britain
The Mighty Boosh
Arrested Development
Family Guy
Greg The Bunny
John Safran vs God
The Chaser Decides
[episodes 1 and 4]
The L Word
That ‘70s Show
Footballers' Wives
Angels In America

State Of Play
Nip/Tuck [did you see what they did to Vanessa Redgrave the other week? Shudder. I beg “no no no” when I watch that show. Love it.]
Dawson’s Creek final season
South Park
The Daily Show With Jon Stewart
[until SBS lost the rights]

Catch-22, Joseph Heller
Brightness Falls, Jay McInerney
The War Against Cliché, Martin Amis
Confessions Of An Heiress: A Tongue-In-Chic Peek Behind The Pose, Paris Hilton

Daniel Kitson at the Comedy Festival
The Burlesque Hour at the Spiegeltent
The Milgram Re-enactment at ACMI

Favourite Symposiasts moment was our unintentional poetry collaboration, inspired by the scandal that rocked the world (excluding all countires but Australia), Delta-Poo-Paris;
Ohmygod. Um, like, whoah
Paris Hilton and the Poo?
Wow, that's so
Out of the Blue.

- The ridiculous response to Janet Jackson’s boob flash. The kids are OKAY! Jeez, legislating pontificators are damn creeps.

- The Pauline Hanson revival bullshit. Like, she’s okay now? NO SHE ISN’T!

- Playing It Straight

- That Ash dickhead from the Perth restaurant in My Restaurant Rules. HATE HIM!

- Discriminatory attitudes/policies holding sway instead of civil rights, justice, and all that shit

Hmmmm, what else? Oh yeah, THE ELECTION! Urge to scream, rising. Rising. RISING! AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I was so sure it couldn't possibly happen, that people could even think of, as Guy said, endorsing the direction we are going in. GAH! And now, dear reader, I will inflict one of my rants of 2004 on you;
I still find it quite incomprehensible that people, whatever class, have been moved to support Howard because he has been at the helm for such 'victories' as a) an expensively mean exercise against desperate people fleeing serious shit, calling them liars and locking them up and traumatising them only to find that, hey, most of them really are refugees requiring asylum, not 'queue-jumpers' or 'boat people' or 'possibly terrorists', b) the continued and growing resistance to granting our indigenous population recognition of their rights, with toxic public denial about Australia's history, and with Howard conducting himself with horrid pettiness when making policy or public statements about aboriginal issues, and approving of the same conduct in others, and c) the move away from the 'let the punishment fit the crime and hey, what about rehabilitation' ethic of sentencing towards a more 'populist' lynch mob kind of deal that nevertheless gives the state more power over sentencing and takes discretion away from judges, [breathe] not to mention all that shit providing increased powers to search and detain and trample on people's rights in response to terrorism, blah.”

Oh god. And don't even get me started on the US election. These two elections make me think everything sucks. I mean, these douches do SUCH A BAD JOB, they don’t work to make things better, their priorities are fucked, they talk such insupportable shit, and yet they get resoundingly re-elected? Fucking. Bullshit.

#1 Nicky Hilton marrying a guy named Todd Meister. His name is TODDMEISTER! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

#2 Drummer from Spiderbait wearing a “No Means No” t-shirt on the Rugby League footy show. Excellent.

#3 My mum bumping into Thorpie in Florence, literally.
She was walking along and, like, bam! She came up against a huge manly torso. My first question was, "What was he wearing?" She said he was wearing a grey hoody thing. And I was like, "Was he wearing any pearls? Could you see his underwear?" And she just looked at me funny and continued her story. She said she was in the midst of apologising to this giant stranger for bumping into him when he started saying "Oh no. That's alright". And because they were both speaking in Australian accents they looked at each other in laughing relief, but then as soon as their eyes met, my mum went "Oh", recognising him. And then he went, "Oh", realising he had been recognised. And then they both just cut and ran. Well, walked.

#4 Me coming up with a name for a hard-rockin chick band who are funny and don’t take any shit/ an all-girl Spinal Tap tribute band... Vaginal Tap

#1 Dijonnaise is not a DIY condiment
#2 I am never going to have a drug problem or any kind of emotional problems or a 'need for spirituality' crisis or anything like that, because the only avenues for treatment seem without exception to turn one into an unbearable crashing bore.
#3 After Parky vs Meg Ryan, I do not love Parky

Joaquin Phoenix playing Johnny Cash
Jonathan Rhys Meyers playing Elvis Presley

jay mcgraw credentials

Sunday, December 26, 2004

Man, Le Tigre's album, This Island, kicks serious balls. I love it. They are freakin' genius. They even do a version of I'm So Excited, which, dare I say it, is better than Sara-Marie's? Yes, I think so. I can't wait to see them in February. It's gonna rule so hard. Also, I'm so bringing this album to your New Year's Champagne Apocalypse, Guy. I believe you may even dump Cher from your car in favour of the brilliant Le Tigre. Marty can thank me later.

Saturday, December 25, 2004

Hey, it's Christmas... Yep.

Anyway, I would just like to express my heartfelt thanks to Video Hits for the amazing gift it gave me this morning. Perked me right up. Amazing. I am in such a good mood right now. So thank you Video Hits for playing Dannii Minogue's This Is It clip as part of your 'Christmas Special'. Dunno what it has to do with Christmas, and that rules. Thank you. I hadn't seen the clip in ages, and it's really such an enjoyable thing. I mean, Dannii on the beach in tropical print doing Nikki Webster dance moves on the sand. Ha ha ha ha. Hairy topless then-husband Julian McMahon cavorting in white jeans. HA HA HA HA. Then he does an unco cartwheel up the beach and lands front-to-front with Dannii for an awkward smooch/head-butt. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Oh man. Best. Christmas. Ever.
I survived Chadstone 24 hour shopping, and let me tell you, gift wrapping and making "retail small talk" at 4am is a strange, strange experience. What freaks me out is that there was no lull. I started my shift at midnight, and until 3am it was like a mosh pit, within which I just walked around crazily saying "miyah, how are you guys going tonight? [don't wait for response] Great, great...". By 5am, early morning shoppers had started to swarm in. Why? How? And what the hell was Guy Sebastian doing there? Anyway, Merry Christmas, yo.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Just watched Shattered Glass, and my love for Peter Sarsgaard is totally raging. Oh man, I love him so much. He's just so cool. And pained. I just want to watch him forever. And listen to him speak. He seems really intelligent and stuff. I just love him so bad.

I haven't had a crush this major for ages. I'm seriously losing it over him. I was sitting there on the couch watching the movie, and I couldn't stop myself from bugging my brother at the end of each delightful Sarsgaard scene with, "Don't you just love him? Huh? Don't you? I really love him. Don't you?" Finally, after being prodded for a bit, my brother cracked and said, "YES. Okay! He's cool! I get it! Jeez. Want to have his babies much?" And I was actually like, "Er, YEAH!" Scary. But he's just so great.
Awesome. Just when I was beginning to wonder what a girl can possibly read after Paris Hilton's book has rocked her world, I see this excellent news. YES!
I, my friend, have class. I am so not white trash. I am more than likely Democrat, and my place is neat, and there is a good chance I may never drink wine from a box.

[C/o Boulevard St Michel, who is 6% more white trashy than me.]

Man, I love this shit.

I need to step away from the tie-dye. I smell too good to be a hippie and my dad is probably a cop. Being a hippie is not a fashion craze, man. It was a way of life, in the '60s, man.

I have some artistic ability, but it is probably a hobby and doesn't drive my life into a dark abysmal hole where I am alone and against the world.

What's this? The longest I've been without a shower is three days? Not even close, man. I should go sit out in the rain for a week.

I may think I am an asshole or a bitch, but the truth is I am a good person at heart. Yeah sure, I can have a mean streak in me, but most of the people I meet like me.

I AM 39% GEEK!
39% GEEK
You probably work in computers, or a history deptartment at a college. You never really fit in with the "normal" crowd. But you have friends, and this is a good thing.

I want to be evil. I do evil things. But given the opportunity, and a darn good reason I may turn to the good side. Besides I am probably a miserable evil genius.

Okay, this is ridiculous. I see that now.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Went to see Garden State today. I really liked it. But that's not why I mention it here. No, the thing worth mentioning is that today, while watching it, I fell in love. Big time. Like, DEEPLY. I mean, didn't you? Don't you just really really want to marry that 'Mark' guy? I really really do. You know, he's the one who is Zach Braff's buddy in the movie. There's just something about him. I love him so damn much. There's a special quality to him that I can't quite put my finger on. He's just so, um, I can't quite describe it. I think the word is YEAH! Yes, that's it. He's just so YEAH! And I am in love with him. I am totally going to go on a Peter Sarsgaard movie binge asap, so that I may know him in all his forms and make him my man.

After the film I did a bit of shopping, ostensibly for christmas presents, but really, I just bought things for myself. And I rediscovered the danger of bookstores. I spent ages flicking through Tatler and thinking, "Yes, it is rather wonderful isn't it? And who are these people? Ah, so much to discover. But no, you are not going to buy it. You are NOT." It was such a painful conversation to have with myself, as I wanted to pore over Tatler so bad. But in the spirit of compromise I told myself I could get an NW. I mean, I wanted to get both, but I felt I was being all prudent and shit by opting for the less expensive of the two glorious things. But then I spied Paris Hilton's Confessions Of An Heiress: A Tongue-in-Chic Peek Behind The Pose and all my plans became irrelevant. They had been made in another time, another world. A world where I had completely forgotten that Paris had a book out and that her book signings had been protested by people accusing her of contributing to the mediocritisation of public culture, or something. Obviously, I just HAD to have it. Quite suddenly, it became really easy to leave Tatler and NW behind. I really am very callous and unfeeling, aren't I. But oh, Paris' book is so much gold. I've only read the blurb as yet, but yeah, this baby's gonna rule. I am so delighted with this purchase. I giggle a bit and beam whenever I look at it. Anyway, if you ever wanted to know what the official job description of Paris Hilton is [you humourless work ethic thumping bastards], then the blurb provides:

PARIS HILTON is the great-granddaughter of hotel magnate Conrad Hilton. She is a socialite, model, recording artist and actress who has appeared on television shows and in feature films and has been the subject of countless photographs and feature articles.

Love. That. So, that's my night sorted then.

Monday, December 20, 2004

Have just returned from Wilsons Prom after an extended family Christmas get-together. Spent the first two days doing the Lighthouse bushwalk. And though my brother and I may have given the distinct impression that we are bratty city kids who sneer and whine at the natural wonders of Victoria being foisted upon us, what with the iPod strung between us as we traipsed along, I swear we're not. Rather, we are hard-ass bushwhacking types with the air of having seen it all before... because we HAVE. And the disapproving stares of passing walkers don't mean shit to us. Yeah, we're listening to music. What of it? You don't see me giving you attitude. Unless you count staring you down with a cheery grin because I'm so enjoying how wrongly you've 'got our number' as attitude. Like you're such an accomplished woodsman anyway! I mean, we're all just walkin here. Chill out! He he he. Man, I can't believe I'm still able to manage an onslaught of exercise like that after doing nothing of the sort for two years. My poor body. I give it no heads up. I mean, I lunched on Lygon and then worked a busy shift til 2am and then packed my bag and dyed my hair and set off for the Prom at 6am and then walked for 20km. Up hills and such. WITHOUT SLEEP. I am so tough! I am A MACHINE. Anyway, after we walked the 20km back the next day, we spent the next two days at Tidal River with the rest of the assembled family. Despite all the various tensions and 'not on speaking terms' going into it, there were no brawls. One outburst, total. Otherwise, just silence and nattering and tedium. I got sunburnt. Did a lot of crosswords. Hung out with the cousins. Ate turkey and ham and pudding. Stuff like that. Not much to blog about really, except I feel that I have to because I've been neglecting this. Anyway, tomorrow I'm going to interview Andrew Bartlett about his hunger strike for the radio show and then I'll spend the summer doing really interesting things. I swear.

Friday, December 10, 2004

"You broke up Pantera. You ruined my life."

I couldn't help but laugh when I read that line. I mean, holy freakin' crap. Could that guy be any more of a douche? Murdering people is lame enough, but he made it so much lamer. LAME!

Anyway, I was checking on our BlogPatrol stats and I noticed that someone had Yahooed "two women doing a 69er one shits in the others mouth" to get here. I laughed of course, noted the missing apostrophe, and then did that whole, "Out of all the possible places they could have gone to, why did they choose us? We must be way down on the list for that query, right? Right?" So I did some 'research'. I went to Yahoo and put the words in exactly as they appeared on BlogPatrol, and GUESS WHAT?


I kid you not. Check it out.

Thursday, December 09, 2004


Oh, why do I have to work tonight? And tomorrow night too! Grumble grumble sob. But there are things on! And I want to go see them! Except I have to work so I can't. Arrggh, that's so shit. I'm almost crying here. So if you people are free and in Melbourne tonight and tomorrow and you wanna do some stuff that I can't do [stupid work. I hate you. You're so annoying and crap] then here is what I would be doing if I didn't have to work.

Go to 161 and see Wolfmother, Wolf & Cub and Die! Die! Die!

Tomorrow Night
Go to Ding Dong and see Midnight Juggernauts and then go to HiFi and see the 22-20s.

But instead, I will be making pancakes and coffee and drudging into the wee hours, before getting home to watch my tape of One Tree Hill. Now, I'd be watching my One Tree Hill tape anyway, I just wish I was seeing bands first instead of working. Blast.

I'm free on Saturday night, though. Does anyone else want to see that Red Stitch play, The Day Room? It's a Don Delillo play. I really wanna go. Lets.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Saw Naploeon Dynamite this afternoon. Loved it. It was sweet. Go see it if you haven't already. Much fondness and laughter. Sigh. I love the way that kid breathes. Also, I love his boots. Got to get me some of those. Also, I found the guy who plays Haylie Duff's boyfriend to be like, the spitting image of my sister's boyfriend. I mean, unlike that guy, my sister's boyfriend is nice and friendly and doesn't pull douchey faces all the time, but still, they look sooo alike. It was unnerving. And then funny. And then awesome. Because I realised that in this scenario I am, like, Hilary Duff. Ha ha ha ha.
The Kylie Question...

Can nostrils be that triangular? Posted by Hello

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Arrested Development is really hitting its stride. I was cacking myself madly at tonight's episode. And the appearance of Liza Minelli was so well-judged. Bless.

In other TV-watching shenanigans, attempting to enjoy the long-awaited return of Footballers' Wives tonight was a mixture of pleasure and pain for me. Pleasure, because I fucking love that show. God, it's fantastic. And pain, because its return was accompanied by a backdrop of lightly sozzled relatives wincing with exaggerated disdain at the 'crass' accents on display, with much shaking of heads and intrusive talk of "Why are you watching this show? It's beneath you!" Um, because it RULES! Der! Shhh! I'm trying to listen to the lies Tanya is spinning on the witness stand! I can't waste all this precious time staring you down and radiating contempt! Uh-oh. Here we go. Cross-generational warfare at its most inept, in my opinion. I mean, launching into obnoxious recitations of Hamlet's soliloquies around the table was, I suppose, intended as a biting counterpoint to the show and a comment on generational concepts of value. Yeah. Right. Oh man, they just don't get stuff, do they? Pain. Serious fucking pain.

In other news, oh ho! Motley Crue. Awesome!
While I think NW went a bit far suggesting Kylie has had a "Farrah-style" nose-job after her freaky appearance on Kath and Kim, I have to say that she's looking pretty darn strange at the moment, and is inching closer and closer to a Cher style look of eerie preservation, rather than actual beauty. Please show moderation! I know that Botox is a necessity for the modern pop star, and even the odd brow-lift, but don't turn all freaky on us. It's funny - first Dannii seemed to copy Kylie, using the surgeon's scalpel, and now Kylie's trying to match Dannii's futuristic imitation of reality...

Monday, December 06, 2004

Um, anyone up for Debbie Does Dallas - The Musical?

Saturday, December 04, 2004

"You broke my sitar, man!"

Oh man. I just saw DIG! at ACMI [because I was not gonna wait until April to see it], and boy, did it seriously RULE! Mmmm, greatness. You gots to go see this film. You will love it. Fantastic chaotic band madness with The Dandy Warhols and Brian Jonestown Massacre. It's bloody terrific. At the screening tonight, Brent DeBoer and Matt Hollywood had been flown over to introduce the film. Matt Hollywood said some stuff, like, "I don't really know what to say." And then Brent DeBoer said, "What he said." Coolness. Love that.

Oh god, I love everybody in this movie. I mean, I'm a Dandy Warhols fan, so obviously I love them already. And I also already love Peter Hayes from BRMC. But there are so many more new people to love. A whole damn scene of people to love, in fact. Like that cool dude with the glasses. Joel Gion. He rules. I love him so hard. And Anton Newcombe. That dude is intense. Love him. Sure, he'd be a pain to actually know, but I don't have to deal with that. I just get to marvel at the existence of such a creature, without all the shit. He is a genius, we are told. And I don't dispute that. But still, I cacked myself when he was chucking a massive hissy during a gig and my brother leaned over and whispered "GENIUS" to me, in that Homer Simpson "I think he's talking to you" voice. Ha ha ha. Anyway, yet again I was forced into the realisation that I'm just not a creative person. I hate that realisation. It shits me. I can't live with it, but I'll have to, because it's true. Fuck. But this isn't about me. This is about a fucking great music doco. Oh baby, it's just so interesting and funny and sad and cool and fucked. It's all about deep complicated abiding platonic love. I think. And I loved it. Go and see it. Yes yes.

Friday, December 03, 2004

One Tree Hill.

"God doesn't watch sports."

He he he. Deepest. Show. Ever. Indeed, conspicuous character exposition and 'deepness' everywhere. Hello poor hot kid who 'reads'. You like to read, don't you. I know this because I was gently nudged in this direction. See, one of your friends asked you "What are you reading now?" It was Steinbeck. And then your mum and your sassy best friend gave you a present. It was a book. Sorry, I mean, it was a play. Shakespeare. And then your uncle said that when you play basketball, it's like poetry. And you know what I was thinking? I was thinking, this kid's deep. He's a reader. It's his 'thing'. He's a reader. HE'S A READER! There's also a cheerleader. She's deep too. She 'rocks'. It's her 'thing'. Or maybe it's punk. Anyway, just try and find a scene that's not signposting how rock and/or punk is totally her thing. Just try. Then there's this other dude. He's kind of a douche. He doesn't really have his own thing yet. He has his father's thing. And at the moment, dealing with having his father's thing is his 'thing'. Which means, he's deep. He just doesn't know it yet. Oooh, and there was a rumble. And it was intense. So now, it's on. Drama.