Worst Gift EVER

Just incase you're not familiar - this Bull is wearing a bra because it has tits... and tits on a bull are useless (bulls have penises - that's they're money shot)... hence, the saying 'Useless as tits on a Bull'.

So I was doing the old blog hop and I came across one helluva funny mofo, at Steam me up, kid.

The post was about the worst gift you've ever received and it got me to thinkin'...  Hands down, without a second thought, Valentines Day somewhere in the mid to late 90s, springs to mind - it was such a forgettable gift, it seems I've forgotten the year - unfortunately not the gift.  I dated this guy, 'late 90s' (as he will be referred from here on in) for longer than I should have (no offence if you're reading this... but we both know that's true).  It should have ended on that fateful Valentines... but being a sucker for punishment, I stuck it out until I could stick it out no longer.  

I'm a big gift buyer... not big in terms of monetary value, but big in terms of thought.  Micko is the same... We often store up idea's in the brain bank from throughout the year and when it comes to Christmas or Birthday's we get something that the other really wanted (often had forgotten about) and surprise the shit out of each other.  That's just one of Micko's many endearing qualities - he puts a lot of thought into everything he does.

Late 90s was certainly no Micko!  And on this particular Valentines Day, me and 'late 90s' had been going through a rough patch - I think... I also am not too sure because the whole relationship was a rough patch and for the most part I think I've blocked it out.   

Anyways... I can't recall what I bought late 90s, but I'm sure it was fucking awesome!  He then reluctantly, sulkily, handed over his gift - not because he felt bad that his present was soooo shit, just because throughout our entire relationship, that was his persona (I'm sure it was just our relationship that made him that way and I'm sure he is much happier person these days).   

It was a card... something weird on the front (I can't quite recall what - perhaps an animal of some kind) and inside was blank... blank with a couple of stickers stuck in it, a red triangle, a blue square, a green circle and a yellow octagon.  There was nothing written in the card... not a single word.  Then he handle me a mini bottle of Midori (you know the tiny little bottles you find in a mini bar)... problem was, I hated Midori!  And he should have known that!


You know... If he's just given me the card and written something sweet in it, I'd have been really stoked. The gift aspect wasn't what I was looking for (and certainly not that fucking disgusting melon flavoured wannabe alcoholic cordial called 'Midori'!  The card alone would have been more than enough!

Surely he knew I was a beer drinker!  I'm sure he'd never seen me drink anything but beer.  It got me to thinkin', how much attention does late 90s actually pay to me.  So shortly after the card/midori episode I covered my eyes and asked 'What colour are my eyes?'  To which he sat silently for a minute contemplating... then said 'Brown?'    

Ummmmm... WRONG ARSEHOLE!  My eyes are blue!  Blue as the day I was born - about as far removed from brown as you can get.  Like I said before, I should have ended it there and then.... The me, here today, doesn't even recognise the pansy bitch I used to be.  That girl is someone who put up with way more shit than I ever could (now) and she is definitely worth another blog entry.  I'm just not sure I'm quite ready to open those drawers in my mind... just yet!

Memory Lane Monday - Phillip Island

Some days when I walk on the beach, often I'm reminded of my childhood.  Holidaying (pretty much every other weekend or school break) at my Nanna and Granddad's place at Phillip Island.  

I'm not sure if it's the smell of the beach (how would you explain that smell - and when I say 'beach smell' I'm not really referring to a fishy or seaweed smell - I'm thinking more along the lines of that fresh, summer smell of sand, surf and sun) but on certain days it's like a taking a trip back in time and the vibrant memories come flooding back.

These were the good ol' days...  Life was simple.  The biggest worry you had was whether Nan would give you a handful of lollies from the orange sliding lid container (racing cars, red frogs, snakes alive. strawberries and cream - you know... the good stuff!) which she kept in the 'medicine cabinet' - a sideboard that she kept her wine and brandy in (her medicine) - a nip before bed each night.   

Instead of watching TV (I know there was one there but we really only watched Young Talent Time on it) my cousin and I would draw pictures on cardboard (mainly seaside themes) and try to sell them to the neighbours... The ones across the road were, incredibly, called Arthur and Martha Hindgarther - true story, poor old souls!  

My brothers and I would chase skinks, lifting up rocks then quickly cupping our hands over the little lizards and chucking them in a bucket (with grass, twigs, dead flies and a lid full of water).  Some would drop there tails in fear, other would happily run around in the bucket until we let them go.  

Every day Mum would pack us up in the car - no seat belts, or air con for that matter!  We'd have the seats flattened in the back of the station wagon and piled in there would be me, my brothers and some cousins along with our towels, bathers, sunscreen, hats, cricket set, buckets and shovels... Mum (she was young and way cool) would have Eurythmics cranking and we'd all be singing along to 'Thorn in My Side' or 'Missionary Man'.   Once at the beach, my brothers and I would chase crabs in a similar fashion to our skink catching episodes - although it was a matter of picking the crabs up so their claws would nip us.

In the backyard, in a tree, lived a Koala.  He was there all the time... definitely had set up his position and was staying put!  Granddad actually picked him up on a few occassions (I still can't believe he did that - now more so than in those days) while Mum and Nanna looked on in horror.  Old Koala would crawl around in the backyard and when he decided to wander, we were to stay well away.  Most of the time, he'd be found sitting up in the gum around the side of the house, eating his eucalypt leaves or sleeping... mostly he was sleeping!

There was this place, that I'd try to make Mum take me to every time, we used to call it the Shell House. The fence was made of shells, along with the path and a few bird baths and things in the front yard.  They sold all kinds of shells and ornaments - beachy theme stuff.  I think they might have closed it down, or destroyed it because I can't find any info or pics (if anyone knows what I'm talking about - help me out here).

It's this last memory that pops into my head more often than the others... the house made of sea shells - a dream come true for this little princess - it was magical and I'd always dreamed it would be my castle one day.  I recently bought a man made out of Cowry Shells, with a hat and a ciggie hanging out of his mouth, just because it reminded me of those days.  Tacky, but totally cool (well in my book anyway).  He reminds me that while sometimes I feel like a fish out of water, I am home.  I'm living by the sea (exactly as I always wanted to), soaking up the sights, sounds and scents that comfort me when I feel alone.  They take me back to a time when I was young, happy, free and surrounded by love...

and remind me that not a lot has changed...

I might have a mortgage, bills to pay, and more than just lollies on my mind... but I am still all of those things... Young, happy, free and surrounded by love.

Thank you Mr Cowry (you might be missing a nose, but you are my kind of man)...

Memory Lane Monday - My first memory

What better way to kick off the first official 'Memory Lane Monday' than with my first every memory!

I'll set the scene..

As is evident from the above photo, during my Kindergarden year, I was a cute little bobbed hair 4 year old... Each day, we'd play dress ups, paint and run around in the playground - which had concrete tunnels that you'd paint with water and a couple of tyre swings - amongst other cool playground equipment. We'd stop for morning tea and lunch and I'd eat proudly from my Smurf bowl and mug set. Then in the afternoon, we'd have story time before a little nap.

On this particular storytime occassion, around halfway through I felt the need... the need to pee! I got myself up, skipped over the the toilets (miniture and with no doors on them), pulled down my dacks and stared at the birds playing in the sandpit.  I did the business... I then wiped myself properly (probably in the very wrong, but popular with children, back to front fashion). I pushed and slide myself off the toilet... I flushed... I walked out and back into the room where everyone was sitting, cross legged on the floor, entralled in Ms McClean's storytelling...

That is, of course, until one of the kids turns around to look at me, lets out a big laugh, followed by the entire class turning their heads to face me... then shitloads of pointing and laughing hysterically.

I glanced down to see what they were all pointing at... and suddenly was about as horrified, as a 4 year old can get, upon discovering the focus of their jaunts.  You see the one thing I failed to mention, through my detailed storytelling (mainly because it hadn't occured up until this point), was my pants. Yeah, you see they were still around my ankles. I was slowly pulling them up as I walked back to my spot on the floor.  The whole class were laughing at me flashing my 4 year old gash for free!  (No one needs to see a skin box in the classroom - unless you're watching a porno)

These days, they call me 'Pants Optional' for another reason...

By these days... I mean 2007

Monday's moral - Always wipe front to back and never in reverse - it's just not sanitary!  Plus, nobody likes a nasty infection!

Oh and for the record...no one likes an exhibitionist - unless their hot and over 18!

Memory Lane - I

This morning, just as I was heading out the door to go workout, I got a text from one of my great mates, Krabes.


"Hey there.  Just heard Lamb on JJJ (Gorecki - I found the one) remembering Livid etc... Just wanted to say hi and that that was one of my all time fav memories.  Love ya Karls xoxo"


Krabes... What a sweetheart!  I love that bitch!


Anyways... got me to thinking, what are my all time fav memories?  I thought once a week I might post a good memory - god (or whatever) knows I've a shitload of brain drawers full of kickarse times.


And what better place to start than with the memory Krabes rates as all time (and for the record, so do I):


It was 2003? Livid (an old music festival they used to have in Brisbane (affectionately know as Brisvegas - definitely not Briselaide)... It was also Krabes hens night!  Me and all my bushpig best mates, flew up to Brissie to celebrate with excess everything - in true bushie style).


Due to work commitments, I was flying in later than everyone else and had planned to catch the train  (like my girls did that morning) to the Valley - where we were staying.  I arrived around 8.30pm only to discover that I'd just missed the last train... What the?  Fuck yeah.. I thought that myself!  I rang my girlfriends, who were a little shitfaced to ask where they were and how to get there.  I then jumped in a cab and high tailed it to the backpackers we were staying at... It was well past beer o'clock by then and I had some serious catching up to do!


We suck down pint after pint... chatting away and, I'm sure, making cockheads of ourselves - my bitches aren't the quietest mob you'll ever meet - more so in our mid 20s.  We also noticed someone who struck a remarkable resemblance to the hottest woman on the planet - Meg White - chowing down in the Japanese restaurant across the road.  We talked about going in to meet her, but I'm a big believer in leaving celebs be.  They are just people after all.  I'd hate if random strangers where coming up to me asking me for an autograph while I was enjoying dinner, walking my dog, having beers with my mates, going to do the shopping... pretty much anytime that was my time.  Treat people as you'd like to be treated, right?


Next day, headed off to the showgrounds... Tickets:  check... Money: check... Illegal substances: check... Crazy bitches to get f'd up and have a rad time with: check.


Good line up at livid that year... White Stripes, Jurassic 5, Yeah Yeah Yeahs was enough to have me in the queue for tix.  I could tell endless tales of the good shit we got up to, but that's going a little off target - as has much of this entry really.. I guess I'm just trying to set the scene.


A couple of note worthy moments included:


J5 with those things from your childhood that you'd swing around and they'd make a crazy noise.  They were like a plastic tube with ripples all the way down (like the bendy bit of a straw), usually in fluro colours, and you'd swing them in a big circle again and again... They made kind of a low, deep, vibrating, whoosing sound.  RAD!  I found one in a $2 shop shortly after and had endless hours of fun with it... until I had to use to poor petrol in the rental truck during one of our fun interstate moves.


White Stripes:  Got in and posi'd it up early, only to freak out 5 minutes into the set!  I'm a bit of a clausto - so much so my hugs are an in and out affair - the crowd was too much for me.  I started screaming like a crazy bitch 'Let me out... Fuck I can't breathe' and literally walked on top of people, or madly pushed them out of the way to force my way out of there!  I was spewing!  Was it the clausto or the fact I was well and truly peaking by this stage?  Not too sure!


But back to the story at hand...


Resin Dogs were playing in the dark and dingy cattle shed... It was a bizarre place to see a band - very dark with just a few streams of light coming through from the opening at one end.  It felt like we were inside that hallway that Alice in Wonderland walks though.. the one that get smaller and smaller the further you go.  It was a massive area though... seems to stretch forever into the darkness at one end... and forever into a small opening of light at the other.  Resin Dogs are always a festival highlight...  Everytime I've seen them, I've stumbled out drenched in sweat with a massive grin spread across my face.  Take my legs days to recover!


Krabes and I spot Lamb is coming up and we decide to hang around and check it out.   I'm so glad we did... They were amazing!  I remember looking at the stunningly beautiful, Lou Rhodes, completely awestruck!  She was angelic... An aura of light surrounded her (I'm thinking stage lights cause aura readings ain't my strong point) making her appear kind of other wordly.  I turned to Krabes to relay my thoughts, and she said 'I was thinking the exact same thing... she looks totally heavenly'.  I'm sure it was the perfect balance of their trip hop magical sounds, her beauty, their lighting and Krabes and my state of mind but it is a moment that has obviously stayed with us since.


For those who are unfamiliar with the sounds of Lamb... shame on you!!!


Here is a little sample of their biggest hit, Gorecki, for your auditory pleasure!