Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

EBAY I BUY:

Tuesday, March 23rd, 2004

Danger Will Robinson!!

Today i recieve my first ever purchase from ebay, and it all went smoothly.
I just know i’m going to end up in a twelve step program to prise me away
from this online shopping wonderland .. i mean its not like you can pop out
to Woolies and buy an autographed 8×10 of Joan Crawford, much as i wish
you could. I need a special function on my ebay account that pops up with a
warning ‘Do you really need this item Greg, i mean really think about it’ then
it delays the actual purchase for 24 hours to give you time to reconsider.

The first item went after is an autograph of Edward Kennedy, youngest
brother of JFK. I’ve always been facinated by the Kennedy’s and i’ve got a ton
of book’s, dvd’s and videos on the family, JFK was the *Star* but his social
reforms were held ack in many instances by various stumbling blocks, both personal and political, his next youngest brother Bobby who was also assasinated
would have been the elected president in 1968 if not for assasins bullets.

Bobby was an amazing man who REALLY understood the average man, poverty
and the underprivaledged .. he would have made an amazing president, next came
Teddy (Edward) who has an amazing track record in the U.S senate for supporting
equality and equal rights across the board, only last week Teddy was on the news out here railing against Bush and his opposition to gay marridge.

Anyhoo, i’m pretty stoked to have this autograph of Teddy.

Now, if anyone spots any 8×10’s of Joan Crawford .. drop me a line

USELESS INFORMATION ABOUT ME #1

Sunday, March 21st, 2004

Heres something i bet most of you didnt know about me ..

I’m absolutley enarmoured with hot rods and classic old cars that have been worked over and ‘suped’ up .. a prime example and my all time favorite is the classic car customised by George Barris ‘The Munster Koach’ coming a close second is the ‘Dragula’ both these cars were featured in the tv show ‘The Munsters’ .. imagine how much better tv shows would be today if they featured cool customised cars

WHEN PRIME MINISTERS TURN BAD:

Sunday, March 21st, 2004

My new boss has turned out to be a fantastic source for all that is sordid and a little NQR (not quite right) he has just sent me these photos of our former Prime Minister and former tee total Bob Hawke, its pretty obvious from these photos that old Bob is back on the turps. Bob is the silver haired gentleman who has the tongue stuck in his ear in case you didnt know.

I must admit, i really miss the politics of Bob’s day .. he had charisma by the bucket, alas now days we live in a beige political climate in this country and i’m salivating in anticipation of a sex scandle or ANY scandle!

THEATRE OF THE BIZZARE:

Sunday, March 21st, 2004

Theatre of the bizarre

Is it just me?

I often wonder if i’m the sole inhabitant of this spinning marble in the sky, who steps outside his door and see’s and experiences most everything as though its an onion with the various layers being stripped away .. take Friday night for instance.

I went up to Sydney to watch a band at an RSL, i sort of figure most people would be happy enough with that, if you asked them they would say ‘Yup, saw a band at the club’ but this night for me turned out to be ‘Theatre of the bizarre’. I honestly dont think i’ve ever been to an RSL for entertainment before, and i hadnt really thought about it, but by the end of the night i was totally blown away at just how far removed i am from ‘average suburban life’, when i live in and amongst it .. and this isnt a blog where i’m gonna pick on the locals or hang shit on suburbanites, but for me it was an interesting excercise in how i have managed to stay completely detached from this life(style?) whilst living over the road from it.

I ventured up to Burwood RSL sort of situated in Sydneys South/West area, it was a little corner of Las Vegas hemmed in by semi detached houses. We got there at 7.00pm and the stream of people filing into the club dressed to the nines (well, if truth be told more like the sevens) was amazing, instantly it got me thinking, wow this is THE night for these people, they all seemed to know each other and you could tell that this was the night that they got to really gussy up and smear on the lippy and rouge.

Walking in i was at first confronted by a sign saying ‘No bags or packages over a certain size will be permitted in this club’ .. wow, terrorism alerts have reached the clubs of Burwood? and the acrid air of cigarette smoke at once permeated every fibre of my clothing, until you step into a full on smoking area you dont realise how much smoke has been eradicated from our venues and public places. My next ‘club life’ culture shock came when i mentioned at the bistro that i was vegatarian, ???????????

is all i saw on the faces behind the counter, i had to spell out in great detail that i would like just a plate of veges and the potato and mushroom soup, for which i payed top dollar, i think they thought being vegatarian made it exotic and so the doubling of the price, which wouldnt have been so bad if you really savoured a bowl of beef stock with a mushroom thrown in and bit of potato peel, my ‘Vege exotica’ consisted of some chips, opaque pumpkin and liquid corn, the liquid corn was a particular highlight as a dear friend of mine Koozbaine has a singular mission in life, and thats to find the worst food in clubland, this corn i’m sure would tip the scales for at the very least a merrit certificate to be awarded to this fine establishment in honour of their rancid food.

Making our way upstairs we entered the ‘Entertainment dome’ which was actually just the upstairs auditorium where every Wednesday morning they hold the chook raffles, tonights entertainment (or so i thought) was to be provided soley by the talents of ‘Jim Keyes, Russel Morris and Daryl Cotton’, between them these guys have around 12 Australian number one records, some of them true classics such as Jim Keyes ‘Do what you want to do’ and Russel Morris’ song ‘The real thing’. The auditorium soon filled with what turned out to be the ‘peripheral entertainment’ .. the audience.

The lights dimmed all too soon, cutting short my purusal of ‘fashion terrorism and deconstruction’. Just befor the lights dropped i did catch a glimpse of the enormous portrait of Her Majesty hanging on the wall, i couldnt help but think .. in years to come, will they REALLY have a portrait of Charles up there?, surely someone more worthy, like .. i dunno, Jack Meadows from The Bill?.

The band kicked off with a slew of hits, really impressive and if these guys were of the same calibre and in America they would be afforded the respect that lacked here tonight and would be playing in much larger venues, the applause was tepid to say the least at the start, tho once the crowd got a few larney juices under there belts it got a little more interesting and wild. We were right down the front so i thought i’d cop a look over my shoulder to see what was holding these people back, i go to heaps of concerts but mostly in the city or arena’s. When i had a look it was truely ‘Bizzaro land’ the audience was made of the most .. varied, cliched, foriegn people i have ever seen at a concert.

For a lot of these people i think it was just something to so on Friday night, to others it was obvious they had been dragged out by their partners who wanted to recapture, or try ‘to’ capture something that had by passed them in their youth, you could tell the partners of these people as they were the ones sitting there looking like Dame Edna’s bridesmaid Madge Alsop, with their arms folded and their mouths pursed into the most extreme cats arse pucker’s i’ve ever seen. For many others i feel it was a night to ‘go off’, to be taken back to a time before marrige, divorce, death and kids had set in, and through their plastic framed 80’s style spectacles you could see a look in their eyes that said ‘take me back, if only for awhile’ .. thats what i meant earlier about i cant just go and see a band, or anything much really without seeing a whole other picture, there are so many underlying things to everything going on around us if you peel away the layers and look at what is going on beyond a superficial level.

As the night wore on you could see more and more people who i’m sure lead the most ‘suburban’ lives just busting to head bang, to dance .. to let loose, do ANYTHING they dont usually do, something that they could leave behind as they walked out the door but still have a sly smile later on knowing that they had ‘gone wild’ if only for a few minutes.

Towards the end of the concert the most extrodinary thing happend, from tables far and wide the brave rose to dance and moved towards the front, to cut loose .. to enter into the unchartered territory of ‘freeform avante guarde interprative dance’, the concert had now become the ‘Burwood burlesque’ as groups clustered on either side of the stage, no one was brave enough to move to the centre .. not yet, at first the two groups wobbled a knee, then one girl in a maxi mini denim skirt let fly with what could only be described as ‘flailing semaphore’ arm movements, she was like a dyslexic trying to spell out the YMCA arm movements, from the corner of my eye i could see a tall ultra thin man wearing stretch grey stonewash denim jeans had suddenly remembered the dance steps so abley displayed and executed by Dick Smith in his self promoting ‘Dick Smith the electronic wizzard’ television commercials from the early 80’s, then whirring in front of me came Burwoods answer to Coutney Love, all lipstick zixo bleached hair, she had head banged her way from the group at the side, right to centre stage where she stopped at our table, sculled a schooner of beer, and without missing a single rythemic head thrash, moved back amongst her people. At first i thought the people at the right hand side of the stage had all taken ketamine, then i realised that most of these people probably hadnt danced since the progressive barn dance in high school.

Almost as soon as it had begun it was over, this break with conformity .. this step outside the square was at an end, the lights came up and the crowd .. who mostly knew each other were back to talking about aunt Mildreds bladder prolapse.

I dunno, to me it was just facinating .. *I* was outside MY circle, maybe .. hopefully someone there was looking at me and thinking the same things i was wondering about all those people, i’d like to think so.

HARRISON:

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004

Forgot to mention i spent a fantastic day at my mate Steve’s on Sunday, he coughed up the big bucks to buy the new box set of George Harrison cd’s and invited me up to have a listen and to watch the dvd that came with the set, people always ask me why i am SUCH a Beatle fan, the answer is simple, each individual one was/is so talented and interesting but when you put the four of them together it’s just other worldly, so if truth be told i guess i really dont have ‘A’ favorite Beatle, they all serve a special purpose.

Just recently i’ve been imersing myself in the works of George Harrison, i mean REALLY getting into his stuff, it’s so deeply personal and spiritual .. not in the sense of organised religion, but in a deep and organic and accesible way, just throw away things that George often said sometimes make you really see things in a different light.

I loved something he said in the dvd, Eric Clapton was coming to Georges place to record some guitar and said to him ‘I dont need to bring a guitar, you have all that there right?’ George said at that moment and also when in the company of the sitar mystro Ravi Shankar he realised that its the people/person who is the music, not the instrument, it just sits in the corner until someone picks it up to play, and then the essence of that person comes out through the instrument to make the music, and its true when you think of anyone who plays, each person has a different sound, a different style and it dosnt matter what they play it on, it will always be the person who shines through. This just struck me as a fantastic analogy for many things in life.

I’m off to light some incense.

LIZA:

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004

With all good intent i vowed to blog every day but i’ve come to realise that somedays you just cant squeeze one out, or even find the time to, as with most things i always walk away if something is feeling forced (insert generic ‘Carry on’ double entdre(sp) here)

so i figure its better to say something when i feel like saying it, Hmmmm, whats that saying ‘He who speaks most ……………….. ‘ i’ll get back to you on that one.

I know, i know i should be broadening my horizons a little and ‘get out more’ but today i came across a fantastic pic in a magazine that is so horrifying that i’m having second thoughts about posting it, yes its another celebrity gone bad

Step up the mike Liza Minelli and ex hubby David (my face is melting) Guest, i knew this couple was troble from the time of there wedding, i mean Michael Jackson as best man and Elizabeth Taylor as bridesmaid!!??

I love Liza just because she is so unhinged and always teetering towards the steps of the BFC (Betty Ford Clinic) i believe Liza has brought time share in the BFC, i have priceless video footage of Ruby Wax interviewing Liza in a London hotel room, Liza brought along her a friend, obviously NOT a graduate of the BFC .. cant remember her name but she was one of Dr Who’s assistants (as a side bar the said ‘Friend of Liza’ once tried to have ‘intimacies’ my friend Beryl and one of his mates at a Dr Who convention, the fact that they are both gay didnt seem to slow her down any) during this interview with Ruby, Liza and her friend did all they could to stop from collapsing onto the floor, all to no avail as they crawled around the floor barking like dogs and then

re enacting the day they met at school and were beaten by the teacher with a splintering ruler, Liza tops this off with a knee knocking dance that only slows down when you can hear her recent hip replacement begin to splinter.

In the pic below Liza is on the recieving end of some ‘sweet lovin’ from hubby David, who by the way is now suing her for spousel abuse, he reckons Liza used to flog him, i say why not?.

To me this pic looks like a moment of nature, you know when the mother bird flys out the nest and comes back with a mouth full of worms and then regurgitates them into the baby chicks mouth?.

Saturday, February 28th, 2004

Hi,

A few folks have written in regarding the Feb 25th Fairday blog, they have been concerned for the welfare of JD the pink poodle who is in the photo with Dee Dee, Margot, Tyson and Adam. JD the dog looks as if its screaming, well the answer is yes the dog was screaming, wouldnt you howl and look like that if you had a drag queens size ten high heels crushing your paw?

What i want to know is why dosnt Tysons face look like JD’s considering what it looks like Dee Dee is doing to him with her arm.

Tammy xoxo

MAGAZINE WATCH:

Saturday, February 28th, 2004

Just back from grocery shopping, i find it a very centering experience, Woolies is always chilled to just the right temprature for me, but what i REALLY love is you can stand there and read ALL the magazines without the presure you feel in a privately owned newsagent, you know where you constantly expect some pimply little snot to come up and ask ‘are you going to buy that?’ or my favorite ‘This isnt a library you know’, no one has ever said that to me yet, and i dont know how i’d react .. i’d probably just thump them, but at woolies there is no pressure, in fact it feels as if your expected to stand there for hours in the magazine isle, i once stood so long in a bookshop reading a really heavy book that when i went to put it down and leave my arms were frozen in the position i had been holding the book, my muscles seized and it lasted for a good 20 seconds, which was long enough to walk around looking as if i was pleading .. for something.The magazine display is now my favorite place to be in woolies, it used to be the pasta isle for one reason and another,

Its here at the magazine stand that i plow through all the gossip rags of the week, its from this possy i find out that Prince Edward has become a father and Prince Charles has been accused of having gay sex .. is it only me that see’s the irony in all that? but best of all its beween these pages that i’m pretty much guarenteed at least one celebrity plastic surgery disaster photo a week, and of those i cant get enough .. from an early age the cranial manipulation mutilation faux pas has facinated me, i have a ton of photos i’ve clipped stored in a box that ive kept over the years, i think Liberace was one of the pioneers of the ‘vanity mutilation’

This week i was so overwhelmed by a smorgasboard of face desecrations that i didnt know if i’d be thrown out of Woolies for standing in the isle rubbing my nipple and rocking back and forwards as i was confronted with not ONE, not TWO, but THREE!! magazines covers documenting Farrah Fawcetts latest tangle with a scalpel, Farrah has moved into the realm of the ‘contorted Jocelyn’, this is where the make over has gone so wrong that the victim looks as if they have been felled by a massive left hemisphere stroke .. oh its just fantastic.

In the photos below we see firstly a young glam Farrah who has been violated by a curling wand, nothing wrong with that. In the second photo we can see just how contorted and twisted her face has become, curving around to the right .. its almost plasticine-esque, the money shot is the last pic, here we can see Farrahs nostrils looking like they have been transplanted from Daniella Westbrooks nose (the actress from Coronation Street who snorted so much coke it rotted away the septum in her nose leaving her with a mono nostril) poor old FF’s nose looks like a bit of pork crackling has been taped onto her face and used as a nose, the discolourisation on it is proof of the massive trauma of knife through flesh, cartlidge being shattered that this poor old excuse for one of those red floppy things on a turkeys beak is of a nose.

Did anyone say mirror and credit card?,

Tammy xoxo

LONG HOT SUMMER:

Wednesday, February 25th, 2004

Seeing as its been the preverbial cliched ‘long hot summer’ i figured it was time to get Christine’s (my car) air conditioning fixed, the thought of travelling up to Sydney for fairday with only the open windows as relief from the odourous sauna that Christine becomes in summer was just too much, so a few hundred dollars later we (Adam, Tyson, Amy and i) were hurtling towards the big smoke in refrigerated discomfort, i didnt care if everyone had icycles dangling from there nostrils i payed TOP DOLLAR for the air conditioning to be fixed and i wouldnt be happy until snow flakes were shooting out of the vents, poor Tyson was wearing a leather jacket in the back seat, me? i was loving the novelty of being able to lean forward in my seat without hearing the slurp and gurgle of my shirt peeling from my back.

We trotted up to Victoria park which is between the city and Newtown, i was glad it was a little overcast as there is nothing more horrifying than fairday during a heat wave, i’ll never forget the year five dogs died of heart attacks .. and i STILL dont get the whole thing of taking your dog and parading around with it, altho this year i was pretty impressed to see a queen leading a rabbit around on a leash, Adam decided that he must eat as soon as we got there, the search was on to find something other than the fetta cheese and spinach ‘brake pads’ the Turkish ladies make, one guy we met there was gobbling them up, he nearly choked on one, but thats okay as he was pretty rude to me later on, we settled down for a feast of noodles in front of the karaoke stand, if the raw noodles didnt make me vomit then the standard of singing was about to, we said our farewells to my niece Mellissa who was there for the day and moved on with ‘Beryl’ .. who needs a blog all to herself to explain the entity that she is.

We headed up the hill towards the the lube slide .. dont ask, from the distance i could hear the hark ‘Spuddddy spuddddy’ (ONE nickname i have is ‘Spud’) i looked down the hill to see my old sister and favorite drag queen in the whole world Dee Dee L’mar waving at me, with Dee Dee was her lady in waiting Miss Margot Gashme

we skipped off down to meet them and were a little concerned that maybe the sun had got to them as they were a little ‘teetery’ on there pins, after being reassured that they were fine we got a couple of pics and sent them on there way to spread a little magic on the main stage where Margot told me to listen out at 4.15pm as she was going to cock her leg and fart into the microphone just for me, what a gem.

We scampered around to the stall that our friends Daniel and Todd were manning to say a quick hello before we headed off to the theatre, we couldnt say no to Daniel when he asked us to fill in a survey form, Beryl and i were standing next to each other doing this and laughing as we HAD to lie on it, i mean we couldnt own up to half the things this health survey was asking, i was especially shocked when i handed my form back and found that the person who was there before me had already half filled my form in on the back page, lets just say he he is fibbing more than me, or he is living the life of a debauched maniac ..

I’ll blog more later on our trip to the theatre after fairday, thats another mood and story altogether.

Meanwhile here’s a couple of fairday photos of Adam, Tyson, Dee Dee, Margot and JD.

The Tingler xoxo

BURRILL LAKE OPEN AIR THEATRE:

Tuesday, February 24th, 2004

A letter in the local paper gave me a major flashback, to a time long ago when i was a kid. It revolves around the summer holidays, and the local open air movie theatre at Burrill Lake, this was heritage listed but has now sadly been knocked down. You can’t let a little bit of history stand in the way of a sub division can you?.

Burrill Lake open air theatre holds some of the most vivid memories of my, and my family’s childhood’s. Every summer my family would up stakes and camp at Bungalow park for five weeks.

Each night from our tent you would watch the procession of people heading to the theatre, all walking zombie like, as if extras from the movie ‘The night of the living dead’.

The veteran, and professional theatre patrons could be spotted as they carried pillows with them, to cushion their vulnerable posteriors from the abrasive canvas seats, and to stop themselves being concussed, as they reclinded their
heads back onto the 3 inch plumbing pipe that held the
backs of the seats up.

The real smarties in the crowd also brought aerogard insect repellent spray to keep the mozzies at bay, it was not unusual to hear the slapping of ankles and arms, then a call of ‘Pass the aerogard!’.

How i envied the posh people who had their canvas deck
chair seats reserved, by having a piece of timber
Padded with a dark mustard, vinyl covering placed along
the seating.

I remember the first time my dad took me to see a film there, it looked pretty rough from the outside with only corrugated walls, but when we walked into the foyer I thought ‘How swish!’, they had a candy bar, I also seem to remember red velvet curtains, a man stood at the entrance to the theatre in a suit with a bow tie!, he took our tickets, and pulled the red curtain across for us to enter.
I remember looking up at dad with a look of shock when we were greeted by the sight of the tin
walls, lampost support pillars, a VERY rough cement
floor that petered out to a dirt trail, and the
(in)famous seats.

As i sort of described before, the seating consisted of wood posts at either end of a long row, the front post lower than the back, canvas was stitched around plumbing pipe that ran across the posts so it was like a long line of deck chairs.

Being exposed to the elements (did i mention that this
theatre only had about a third of the seats under
cover?, the rest was down the front in the open air)
the canvas seating, and especially the stitching would rot,
becoming weakend.

Without a word of a lie i remember watching a war movie with my dad one night, and we heard what sounded like someone’s pants tearing, only to have the seat in front of my dad give way as the top stitching split. The lady in the seat fell strait
Backwards, and her head landed in my fathers lap!.

We were always treated and sat in the undercover part, quite often it would start to rain in the middle of the movie, and you would laugh and think ‘Suckers!’ as the crowd down the front fled up the isle to sit on the cement floor.

I recall watching ‘Romancing the stone’ and ‘Give my regards to Broadstreet’ in the summer of 1984/5, probably the last time I went to theatre. I remember a scene in ‘Romancing the stone’ where they were in the arid desert, and from outside the theatre came a flock of seagulls, drawn to the light being projected into the night sky. The birds danced and swooped
in front of the screen, it was quite surreal.

I don’t think it was uncommon for seagulls to crash into the screen some nights.

Whenever it was time for a new movie to be shown, the octagonal film containers covered in stickers would be left
outside the shop on the main road to be picked up,
again such vivid memories.

One thing that held a special fascination for me (no
idea why, maybe it was the seeds of my future movie
poster collecting hobby being sown) but I always loved
the day when the people would come around, and paste up the new posters for the forthcoming features. I remember
they were pasted up onto blank squares of tin. Outside
the shop they had a special frame and board to paste
them on, but in the camp ground the tin was nailed up
between two tree’s just near the amenities block.

I couldn’t wait for the poster person to come along with their tin pot of glue (probably cornflour and water) and big wide brush and slap the goo over the old poster, lay over the new one, then apply another coat of the clear paste. By the end of the summer these posters would be about half an inch thick with all the layers of movies past.

I can still smell the paste, and I loved going over to them after it had rained, and poking my finger into them as they were like a big gooey sponge (I was only a child remember ha ha) I do remember one movie poster being for Ringo Starrs
‘Blindman’, a spaghetti western, I’ve since purchased
that poster, tho the one I saw posted on the board is the one with all the memories.

It’s tragic the theatre had to be torn down, tho suppose it was inevitable, I mean they don’t make waterproof, digital, 5.1 audio surround sound sytems do they?.

The Tingler xoxo

BERNARD KING:

Tuesday, February 24th, 2004

Before i launch off into a discourse on ‘this’ years Mardi Gras Fair day in Sydney,
I thought i’d cast my mind back a few years to the 2001 Fair day held at
Victoria Park in the city.

Its no big secret that I spend WAY too much time following and adoring celebrities.
Obtusely the objects of my affection are mostly, and come to think of it, have always been,
not your average celebrity that most people would keep scrapbooks on.

No, I’ve always followed the less loved, the misunderstood, the vulgar, the crude and the twisted.
Fairday 2001 offered me the chance to meet someone who was NONE of those things ..

He was simply * Bernard *

Or for the tragic few readers who know not of whom I speak, ‘Bernard King’.

Without realising it, Bernard was probably my first gay hero. He was a celebrity chef on mid afternoon television in Aussie, with his shows actually being filmed right here in Wollongong at WIN 4. Bernard really became a star when he was hired to be a judge on the afternoon talent show ‘Pot of gold’ that ran through the mid 1970′s. I see all these kids now ranting about how cutting and funny Dick(head)o and Mark (somebody slam him please) Holden are on Australian idol, but don’t they realise that they are merely flaccid, pathetic imitations of the true master ‘Bernard’?. You see on Pot of gold Bernard would not hold his tongue, would not avert a death stare in the middle of someone’s act. He was harsh and cruel, without any pretence of political correctness. My brother and I would sit glued to the television, just waiting for his total character, and emotional assassination of the hapless contestants. He was merciless, and we rocked back and forth in glee as he took aim at atonal, discordant, singing sisters in matching blue taffeta dresses and eye shadow. He would draw breath and say, ‘Dress sense zero, singing zero, dancing zero, future zero .. your not very good are you?, no body’s told you that have they’.

Bernard would always say that it was for their own good when he made them cry, and cry they did. Once there was this guy dancing on the show, he looked like a reject from the rejected dancers from ‘You cant stop the music’. He was whirling around in his ball separating satin hot pants, he went for a high kick, and you could practically hear the twang of his ham string as it snapped. He hopped and crawled around the stage, earning nothing more than a dismissive sideways glance from Bernard, as he threw to a commercial break.

It was so funny, without knowing it I was collecting gay hero’s even at that very young age. Not for me the league legends of the day, give me Bernard, Bert or Joylene Thornbird Hairmouth anyday (remind me to blog about Joylene sometime)

All those years later walking around Fair day we spotted Bernard parading, dressed up like a dandy, looking not unlike a crisp Quintin. I must say my legs went to jelly at the sight of him, this really threw me. I’ve met all the big names, from Don Lane to Diana, but Bernard had me shaking.

Finally my friends Mariana and Barbs pushed me towards him, I extended my hand with a simple greeting, would he savage me?, would he dismiss me with a wave?, no, he cocked his head and offered a very polite hello. We stood and had a charming chat for a good ten minutes, he was incredulous when I told him I had all four of his ‘Kings kitchen four seasons’ cookbooks. He assured me that there were some very tasty recipes in between the pages.

It was lovely to meet someone who holds such a command over your memory bank. I’ll never forget, just as we said our farewells, Bernard took my hand and said, ‘Greg, always make your own condiments’.

I think there is something in that for all of us, don’t you?.

Bernard pioneered television advertorials in Australia, doing whatever it took to promote sponsor-supplied products, even if it meant cooking a whole fish in saccharine sweetened grapefruit flavoured soft drink.

I’m so glad I got a photo taken that day with my first gay hero.

Tammy: Duchess of Oven.

KEN AND BARBIE SPLIT:

Tuesday, February 17th, 2004

1

I’m a little emotionally drained today, as I’m sure you all are after hearing
the news that Ken and Barbie have split up.

The MD and press officer of Mattel held a press conference to make this announcement.

I’m pretty stoked tho that it’s a polyethanol Aussie stud, ‘Blaine the boogey
boarder’ that is now getting to rub mounds with Barbie. Lets face it, once
Ken came accessorised with grey slip on shoes with zips, he was rooted
as far as Barbie was concerned.

I don’t think GI Joe would be that interested now either.

I wonder if they have a shelter for all the unwanted and
unloved Ken dolls?. A group where all the discarded Kens meet up and have
workshops, with butchers paper, and rebirth and curl up in the foetal position?
(probably not, Kens legs don’t bend do they, just another reason for GI Joe to brush him off).

Still, it was good of CNN to make it the lead story, it’s not like anyone want’s to deal with reality these days.

BBQ:

Sunday, February 15th, 2004

Here we are at the end of another weekend, it was a pretty eclectic couple of days for me, Saturday was spent corousing around with the fantastic Miss Barbie Q, its been FAR too long since she’s pulled on the size 12 stilleto’s. We met up at the gay mens drop in at Acon .. i’m thinking about doing some more volunteer work up there, i sorta miss being involved, and being at the front line and cause of all that gossip :-) so they threw on a BBQ for Barbie Q, plans were made for Mardi Gras Fairday next weekend, make sure to drop back as i’ll be posting heaps of pics of hot guys from the day, as well as the odd photo of over heated dogs, frazzled Lesbians and celebrities trying to be incognito. Today Sunday was spend working myself up for a game of tennis, Adam and i played against Amy and her sister.

I couldnt believe how competitive they were :-) i’m from the school of ‘If the ball heads my way i MAY run for it’ but these girls are serious tennis players, needless to say Adam served to me everytime he knew i was gazing at the guys on the next court .. he still didnt get an ace tho.

Below is a pic of Tammy and Barbie