Too bloody hectic!

Bunnies, I feel like I haven't had a chance to just sit down and catch my breath for a week!

***

The blues gig last Thursday was fantastic! One of the coolest gigs I've ever seen.

First Keb' Mo' did the uber-charming black man with his guitar thing for about an hour and then Buddy Guy (in his bloody 70s!!!) absolutely rocked the house! His energy was just unbelievable and from the word go, he owned the crowd and kept everyone mesmerised all the way through.

The icing on the cake was when Keb' Mo' joined him on stage for the rest of the gig.

Awesomeness.

***

We spent last w/e up the coast at Forster enjoying the fantastic weather as well as the beautiful scenery. Deviant somehow convinced me on joining him fishing on Sunday and was able to drag me out of bed at 4am. It did pay off tho as we enjoyed a show of dozens of dolphins passing by all day long.

Right before we were about to leave about a dozen dolphins appeared right in front of us and spent about a quarter of an hour just playing around and performing just a few meters from us. It was incredible and definitely made my day worth the early wake up.

***

Last night was Ozzy. Which was fucken hilarious.

I swear, the place was bogan-ville galore! Everyone was severely style challenged, overweight, unattractive and not quite there upstairs.

It made me all sentimental about the years I spent in Penriff... How I miss those muffin tops and the teen mums with their screaming double prams. Those were the days. *sigh*

Ozzy was an endearing and entertaining geriatric old fart with manboobs and a beer gut. The real cock on stage was Zakk. No doubt about it. He's a certified Sex God[tm].

***

Tomorrow we're heading up the coast again to Newcastle for an Easter bender. Bring it on.

Christmas Day piss-up

Apparently, Christmas Day is the new Boxing Day as far as piss-ups go. We - Mira Bell and I - heard from a very reliable source (read: from our certified piss-head mate Poof Jesus) that no longer do people wait till Boxing Day to go out, but instead hit the piss one day early. Naturally, we had to test it.

There was also the mystery of my missing jacket to solve. I had managed to lose my winter coat during my bday piss-up and showed up home in a tiny lil black dress, sans coat. Not good. The ulterior motive for hitting the pubs was to somehow track down my beloved red winter coat.

We had a clue: I found a mysterious cloak room ticket in my bag from a bar that I did not remember visiting. However, after bringing this up I was told that we had in fact spent the majority of the night in this particular dodgy joint. Clearly, I had drank even more than I had realised. It was truly a miracle I was still alive.

Back to Christmas Day. We made plans to hit a hideous bar called Las Palmas and started the night with salmiakki vodka shots. Back on the horse, hey? The novelty value of Las Palmas wore of even quicker than I expected and we continued onwards on our mission as soon as Poof Jesus and Candy Mama showed up.

On route to the meat counter also known as Doris, we managed to locate my beloved jacket from Onnela, just as the mysterious cloak room ticked had hinted and we had our first (and last) win of the night.

The theme of the night was 'nothing has changed'. See, the four of us have been hitting the piss for the past 15 years and therefore all equally suffer from a major age crisis. However it was somewhat of a relief to realise that nothing really had changed that much.

Doris was even worse than I remembered.

It was the worst I had seen. Poof Jesus had to hold all of us three chicks under his arms yet still there were hands trying to crab us every which way he was not looking. Every time we hit the dance floor, there were drunken idiots everywhere attempting to hump our legs or grab our arses.

The three of us (me, Poof Jesus and Candy Mama) were vicariously living through Mira Bell, as she was the only single in our merry crew. We were trying pick the best meat for her, ever if she did not agree with our opinions. At least it kept us entertained.

At the end of the night, we were leaning against the bar counter, off our tits and pointing and laughing at the heavily intoxicated fellow piss-heads around us still trying to pick up anything that moved... or actually, I don't think they cared that much anymore. It was more like they were willing to pick up anything they were able to carry home with them.

Then Poof Jesus directed our attention towards the dance floor to announce that Mira Bell had successfully picked up.

Clearly, nothing had changed.

The Big Three-O

So. I turned 30 and can now officially be described as an old cunt. Naturally this required a hefty dose of alcohol to numb the pain of aging, right?

We started with a practice run in Sydney a couple of weeks early. See, I was going to exit the country before my actual birthday and Deviant wasn't going with me, so in order to get him in on the fun, I needed to have a pre-party.

The usual group of piss-heads gathered in to meet us at our lil love nest, and with the help of copious amounts of alcohol, we went on till the sun came up and I believe I threw the towel in around 7am by crashing on the bedroom floor next to our bed that was taken by a visiting couple.

The following day was not so fun.

--

The actual birthday party took place in Tampere, Finland and after the trial run was such a drunken success, the Finnish piss-head mates of mine had a lot of expectations to live up to.

The task was not easy, however these were not just any old drunkards: Hospodar, Kennu and Mira Bell trained in from Helsinki while Jyppi and Junnu drove in from Jyvaskyla and we all met up at Cafe Europa, the same dodgy bar where we used to start up so many yrs ago as teens.

Mira Bell disappeared into the bathroom for a while and came back cranky as all hell whinging something about breaking a clothes stand and a lash curler. Apparently she had been attempting to open the bottle of Sol she brought with her and failed miserably. Not only did she have the beer in her bag, but also a slice of lime packed neatly in glad wrap to go with it.

Bring on the champers, Battery Vodkas and Long Island Ice Teas - the night had begun!

I had been afraid of these dear friends of mine getting older just as I had, but my fears were soon proven wrong:

Kennu was drooling after meat way too young, Hospodar was pouring alcohol down my throat at a very unhealthy pace, Jyppi & Junnu had a backpack full of beer with them and Mira Bell picked up a 22 yo at the end of the night.

Clearly, nothing had changed.

We put immense effort in both quality and quantity that night: we drank everything and in enormous quantities. There was karaoke, titty bars and dodgy joints - a true trip down the memory lane back to those glorious teen nights so many years ago.

The following day was even worse than the one after the Sydney pre-party and the majority of it was spent trembling in bed in fetal position or practicing my Norwegian at the slightest scent of food or alcohol.

The need to improve no longer exists, as I cannot survive a night bigger than this.

bdo retrospective

fuck me dead, but i am far too old for this shit.

see, i thought that the fantastic line-up was enough to make bdo worth my while, but i can promise you bunnies, i'm never doing another bdo again.

the crew was me, deviant, citronella, daddy-o(-to-be), small-c and mr j. i had met daddy-o and small-c before on the black label society gig, but mr j was a new acquaintance.

there was something very hunter-s-thompson-esque about mr j. he turned out to be a truly funny and witty cunt who had an impeccable talent of hooking us up with whatever was needed. whenever there was drama, he'd just take off and a few seconds later show up with the goods whether it was train tickets, drinks, drugs or a cab that was required. quite impressive i tell you.

we started the day with a big luxurious brekky at deviant's place and head over to the sydney show grounds around midday. it was when we got on the train that i realised that the day might in fact turn out to be a disaster.

see, while planning the day i had entirely forgotten about the fact that i hate cunts. and when i say that, i mean that i REALLY HATE CUNTS. and the train, well, the train was full of them. loud, annoying and just asking for me to strangle them one by one using my bare hands.

when we arrived, we realised that not only were there intolerable ppl on the train, the fucken place was loaded with them. 55 000 cunts: drugged up, dressed in ridiculous outfits, wearing flags, carrying on, foaming in the mouth and all of them stuffed within the show ground fences and we were right there locked in with them. fuck.

the first act we saw with deviant was that 1 guy. he was just this insane mofo with the mother of all sideburns playing a metal pipe and it was fantastic.

then it was evermore, lily allen, eskimo joe and john butler trio. half way through the john butler trip gig, my feet started to resign and i began to realise that my heels - no matter how low they were - were not in fact a good idea for a day long rock fest.

we decided to take a break when the killers started and went to queue for some piss. at this stage it began to dawn on me that the theme of the day might not be music after all, but queuing instead. we had to queue into the show grounds, queue to get piss, queue to take a piss, queue to see the gigs, queue to get out of the gigs, queue to get out of the show grounds, queue to get train tickets, queue to get into the train and the final drama: queue to get a cab home. and i fucken HATE queuing.

mr j and citronella were on a mission of their own for most of the night and daddy-o was going hard with small-c which left me and deviant chillin out by ourselves.

we saw two chicks digging in on what looked like the most delicious burgers ever, and they pointed up the road and told us to look for the booth filled with 'amish looking ppl'. cracking up and thinking that this was never going to work we headed up the hill, and sure enough we saw a food stall full of people who could only be described as 'amish looking'. and fuck me that burger was delicious.

the mosh pit gates were bearing red lights from the beginning of the killers gig, so we had already decided to watch the muse and tool gigs from aside. then, totally unexpectedly at the beginning of the muse gig the lights went green and we decided to have a go at it. we got all the way through the crowd with no problems what so ever and just walked in. which was rather surprising considering that a couple of hrs earlier small-c had mauled near death attempting to enter the mosh pit.

the muse gig was great, but i couldn't really enjoy it through the pain and by the time tool was about to begin i was already over it. the cunts all around us were just way too fucken drugged up to act like human beings and ppl were pushing and shoving and just being fucken arseholes.

deviant did his best to keep all the cunts away from me but it soon turned out impossible and we decided to back up a fair bit to find a better spot. the pain was already getting unbearable and then some fucken fat cunt stomped on my foot and i think i ended up twisting my ankle at the same go. with some difficulty i restrained from head butting him and just cursed out loud in finnish.

after the first few tracks of the tool gig we decided that we had seen enough and headed out of the pit. i was able to limp up the stairs and we sat through the rest of the gig. at this stage my ankle was hurting more than enough and my feet were so sore that poor deviant had to carry me for the rest of the night.

i felt like a princess being carried around by my man and that cheered me up quite a bit. he was being the perfect gentleman all night and took care of me just like he should. it was prolly the only thing keeping me from going apeshit as the ppl around were really getting on my nerves.

next time i want to see a live band, i'll go and see their gig and their gig alone. no more this fucken cattle drive entertainment amidst 55 000 wankfaces that i'd happily see dead.

*growl*

what a drama i am having!

*growl* network issues. serious ones. and no, i'm not a happy lil chicky. but hey, [insert here gary oldman 'zorg' accent] 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger' [/accent].

so yeh, i am dropped down on 56k dial-up until i can finally get the broadband up and running in my new place after moving in.

weekend was most entertaining. on friday we had a night out with deviant, sunshine and tulip. one of the funniest night outs i have had for a while i must admit.

sunshine was sloshed already by the time he showed up at my place, deviant was cooking supa-delicious dinner and i got to be both girly and pampered with tulip.

the boys got along splendidly and did their best to entertain us chickies with live music, as deviant brought his guitar with him. tulip shares my fetish for guitar playing hotties, so we couldn't have asked for better program for the night.

i was wearing my funky candystriper dress with some serious 4.5 inch heel action and got the attention deserved both from deviant as well as other people once we ventured out into the public.

on saturday night we just had a quiet one with deviant watching thank you for smoking, which btw is an excellent flick. so many fantastic quotes.

on sunday deviant cooked me an uber-yummy brekky of french-toast with maple syrup and ice cream. yum yum YUM. and later on i joined him for a trek along the beach rocks to go squidding at sunset.

funny thing was that the spot was on an unofficial gay nudist beach... have to admit bunnies, that i have never seen so many cocks in one day. mind you, old and wrinkly most of them. funny shit.

of course there was no squid to be caught, but i was fully enjoying a chance to get the ladies out in the sun for once and honestly, watching deviant fish is fucken hilarious. he's a travelling one man's entertainment show that one. i only wish i had video footage of him doing ninja-like casting while screaming out his squid-call 'heeeeeeeeerrree squiddie-squiddie-squiddie!'

he is clearly insane. or on crack. or possibly, both.

musica

today, as i was going through my ipod to find some music to listen to during my run, i came across prodigy's experience album. i had managed to forget how brilliant it was. it made me think of music in general while running.

see, in the years 87-89, the first three albums (good ol' c-cassetes) that i bought were michael jackson - bad, alice cooper - trash and technotronic - pump up the jam. so my taste in music really could have gone to any possible direction.

however, it was prodigy - experience in 1992 that blew my fragile lil brain and shaped my taste in music for the last 10 years that i spent in finland.

i became a full on lil raver chicky and between 93-99 i dragged my arse to any raves available starting from the illegal warehouse ones set up in the middle of the dodgy industrial districts and carrying through to the massive commercial ones that ended up fading my interest to the rave culture as such.

the last big rave event that i took part in was love parade 99 in berlin. while i had the best time ever at the lp98, lp99 sucked balls big time.

from then on i was more into clubbing and groovy tunes to wriggle my body to.

the funny thing was that i never got into the candy raving thing. i still to this day have never popped a pill or done any other common party scene drugs. not that i'd have anything morally against it or that they wouldn't have been available. i just never felt the need for it. alcohol, caffeine and sugar seem to fuck me up just fine.

also, iam aware of the fact that i've inherited a rather fragile brain chemistry. having been on anti-depressants once was enough. i have no desire to fuck with my poor lil brain now that its even somewhat working.

mind you, this whole being an artist and not doing drugs sorta makes me feel like a bit of a cop-out. i mean, i am expected to destroy this body of mine both physically and mentally in record time, right? i guess i just have to go twice as hard with the booze...

oh, back to the music.

once i arrived in sydney, my taste in music has grown alongside myself and now covers pretty much everything as long as its NOT rnb, rap or post-millenium hiphop (old skool from late 70s to mid 90s still does it for me).

in fact, my taste in music is so broad that it feels impossible to answer when someone asks what i like. all i can really say is to list the last few albums to visit my itunes playlist.

so right now, i like: air - moon safari, prodigy - experience, eskimo joe - black fingernails red wine, black label society - mafia and nine inch nails - halo 02 pretty hate machine (the last 5 played albums according to itunes)

yay for finnish design

i was able to acquire a half a dozen of tsaikka glasses in their original box from a local auction house for $5. score.

timo sarpaneva designed the tsaikka glass for iittala in 1957 and it has always been one of my iittala favourites. in fact, some of my earliest christmas/winter memories include eggnog/glög served from these glasses at my grandparents' house.

mebbe during the next xmas holidays i can hook up some glög from ikea and serve it hot from my own tsaikka glasses. its really quite funny how these lil patriotic things pop up once you're far enough for long enough. honestly didn't think i had it in me before i left the country...