Not quite Smiler

I was looking for footage of D. Waterman playing William Brown in the BBC series but found
this .

A tawdry image shared is a repressed memory spared.

Stick to your flaming knitting!!

In this time of the GFC and the Great Recession one is ever so humble to have a job and continually tugging one’s, never anybody else’s, forelock .

Nevertheless this does not mean that one, or even you, should have to put up with the most ridiculous, dicky and utterly trite language.

Comrades (Hey, it is EG Whitlam's 93rd bday today after all) you are making my ears bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeed.

Sitting hunched over my keyboard in the corner of my delightful workstation/cubicle I am stirred from my diligence by the words “Knock, knock” wittily uttered by unctuous Splodge(tautology?),who then issues me with an imperative tagged with the conditional!! What a technique and what a *&^%!

Two things about the dickiness that is ‘knock, knock’:

(i) what is wrong with ‘excuse me’?! I promise not to retort with ‘you’re excused’. Oh office banter you are so cute and drole, I now pronounce you Mickey Office-Banter.

(ii) When utterer is actually standing beside a door!. Dear colleague there’s no need to be coy, you can rap your knuckles right against that door’s hardish mock wooden surface. Oh yes you can! Actions speak louder than words, woopsy I've almost come over Mickey O-B.

And as for the language in the variety of formal bang-on sessions - vexation exclamation marke centrale!! Let's face it, that is the goddamn 'elephant in the room'. Oh my godfarva, if only there were an elephant in the room, i'd mount the darling and yell a hearty 'charge' !

From the ever present desire to be on the same page to people saying that they’ve been having ‘side bars’ with others (no doubt these 'others' are grassroots stakeholders or summat.) Then it's on to worry about ‘siloing’ and ‘lockstepping’, intentions to ‘socialise’ certain concepts before 'roll out' not to mention requests that we have a 'quick'n'dirty' (oh the crudite!) overview, 'park ideas', ‘press pause or rewind’ mid-discussion. I myself personally would not be averse to pressing ‘stop’ or perhaps something totally out there such as ‘stop’ and ‘eject’ simultaneously. Woah mama!!

However the dickiest expression of them all is yet to surface at my bureau. A friend told me of some Jargonista who regular peppers her parley with the term ‘real estate’ to refer to new equipment. And worst of all when said Jargonista wishes to convey that her team/unit is going to focus on its key responsibility and/or area of expertise she says “we’ll stick to our knitting”.

Ludicrous!!

"Cheer up, it might never happen”

chirped some irritating senior dimpling and jigging before me as i attempted to pass (not stomp by, mind) in the Wynyard underground shopping complex at 3.45ish yesterday afternoon.

Well, sweetheart, from looking at you it possibly had.

Cannot these troubles in kitbag packers just zip it. Furthermore, there really is nothing more disgusting than someone over 10 behaving cute.

Glory you’re a senior, sir get a bit of dignity about you and embrace your inner curmudgeon.

And really why in the bejesus do I have to smile while I stroll. I’m sufficiently decowative as it is, I mean, I’m a liberated woman! Life may be a flipping cabaret but it certainly cannot always be chuckles centrale.

And one other thing cuteswutsey senior perhaps I was actually worrying about someone who is sick, mourning a loved one or puzzling over friends behaving in fashions most bizarre. And yes I possibly could have been but it was more likely I was wondering whether I’d turned off the iron, what was causing my foot to ache or why no-one sold jam doughnuts in the ceebeedee. Possibly all three so is it any wonder I looked so glum chum.

And for my next trick...

Elton John reportedly performed a rendition of "Candle In The Wind" to guests at his White Tie and Tiara ball, moments after learning of Michael Jackson's death.

Moments later a piano key lid was slammed down on a set of bejewelled, mottled pink sausage-like digits. E-bony and Rooo-bee ...

GET THAT DRIVE

I am reading the Bruce Beresford memoir/diary. It had been recommended by two people whose opinions I almost respect.

It's an interesting read but it exhausts me. Well, Bruce Beresford's drive does. It is extraordinary. Where does he get it from?

W H E R E?!

I would like 25 percent of his drive for Christmas please.

A view from the faaaaaaaaaaaaamily room

I'm not outraged about the Chaser business and not that interested but really must opine. I think the Chaser is generally fairly lame and tame. However, if i were 13, had never seen any biting and nasty satire, i would love it but then i loved the Two Ronnies' Phantom Raspberry Blower at 7. Now that I am 75, the days grow short and i'm in the autumn of my years, I have matooered and only have time for my jokes and world-class perspective. Nevertheless I think the indignation, the sacking and fricking Kruddy are just downright silly. In fact Krudd and the general outrage about it all are the most appalling.

I really cannot stand Krudd. His prissiness, his overarching aching desire to be popular, his tactile ways - stop hugging the common people, his conceit, his delivery of speeches and eulogies - oh his pause for effect, his moral rectitude are just disgusting. Julia Gillard soon please. Well how about NOW.

I'm a fan but

Several times per day for the past five months Connie Francis's "where the boys are" wafts out from a colleague's office .

It is such a mournful tune.

Each time I hear it a wave of unease bordering on agitated despair washes over me. I feel like an extra from a truly distressing scene in Blue Velvet and that some terrible repressed memory longs to emerge.

Follyfoot

Mayday, Mayday as Captain Peachfuzz used to cry.

Yes, it is also May Day but no, I am not wearing a sprig of lily of the valley on my lapel or anywhere on my person, or marching or dancing around a maypole (apparently one of the rockstockracy set has a gold one in her bathroom but it's sans ribbons making it one of them poles de sauce ). I do all of that come October (well not the sauce pole dancing, I hear you can get some very nasty sprains) for I live in the southern hemisphere.

It is autumn in the southern hemisphere and the air has been kind of nippy in sin city.

Yesterday I bought a lot of hosiery at Myers, 25% off one particular brand. Apart from the discount I was drawn to the packaging which boldly claimed that the line of hosiery was the brand preferred by Qantas hosties – a mark of prestige no less. This of course greatly appealed to me, which granted is rather curious for be the matter sociale, intellectuale or real estatale the mistress likes to think that she is generally NOT a snob.

That bold statement made, she is a bit of snob when it comes to the old champers and was always mildly appalled by the prospect of imbibing a glass of Cock Ridge blush. Nevertheless duly knocked it back ('Saint Bel') and its parent bottle ('Supertrooper') and no doubt proceeded to behave in a fashion that appalled all present. Oh just rack off, Fischer, it was the mid to late 90’s, I was in my 30’s and celebrating the end of a recession.

However I digress, blame it on the Blue Dalton who I saw for the first time in 15 years last weekend ….

And in the spirit of reminiscing…In the late 90’s I frequently shoved my snout in the bargain troughs at the bottle shop that was conveniently located next door to my former residence, Derwent Flats (my how i've come up in the world...).

My favourite DROP for a very reasonable price was a variety of methode champenoise called Omni. I told a friend and colleague, who was a wine expert - in a fun way not in a C. Erskine-Browne way, about this drop called Omni, which was not bad and quite a bargain, to which he purred that it was the splash that Qantas reserved to serve its First Class passengers.

For years I would present this brand to people advising and wowing them with the Qantas First Class factor. Frills and thrills at no frills prices. Only to find out several years later that it was a joke and my covetting prestige at bargain prices had caused me to be punk’d big time!

So you see it’s with some trepidation that I proceed to boast about the brand of hosiery enveloping my pins and toes for snobbery and boasting are perilous follies bound to lead to ignominy.

Tweeter-Twitter

(For those I’ve already told, respectfully I say to thee ‘bad luck'. I have to increase the blog quota for April, ye see or I am in soup city with Blogger dot com (that old joke, again - yes sorry, not really) )

Last Friday I saw Daniel Johns down by the posh part of Circular Quay, the western part. I am surprised by the thrill but it was very thrilling. I wanted to look at him and his companion a second time but resisted, he is such a lovely sensitive, creative thing i didn't want him to turn me into a pillar of salt so i thought i'd blog about it instead.

Then today I saw ONJ in Myer!!! I was stimulating the economy and she was ostensibly promoting those wii smart brain boxes but really just seemed to be sitting down looking G O R G E O U S, being utterly charming and signing autographs. It must be extraordinary to be a blue eyed blonde with those creamy pink apple cheeks and talented.Fairy floss perfection! The current editor of the Women’s Weekly was also there and she was probably ruminating about cotton candy and such. Is Myer owned by ACP? Perhaps I need a Wii brain thingy.

This morning I spoke to a young woman whose first name is Bliss and then a young man by the name of Englebert, which is so much more dignified than Bliss. No offence Bliss.

Do you eat Baked Beans? I do and I love them. They are so delicious and satisfying.They are a complete meal.

Two celeb sightings and a small tin of baked beans and I am really happy.

Rap rap R A P P Y

This evening as I approached the final stretch of my walk home from work, among the promenading throng on the narrow paths of King Street a curiously dated vision appeared.

A male, Generation X-er garbed in a rapper ensemble including a baseball cap worn sideways (RAD) strutted past, hangin' tough as his legs, arms and hands cut loose through the air no doubt in time to the tune blaring from his ipod into the ear piece whose wire dangled about his chest.

As he caught me eye, he bellowed:

"You ain't fucken cool, man so you can stick it up your arse."

Now to what song could that lyric possibly belong...

Wee, wee, wee all the way to the infirmary

As if the daily battle against the global warming financial crises, Bikies, ATM bandits and sharks wasn't enough without the emergence of the swine 'flu pandemic!

We're doomed I say, DOOMED!

Age I do abhor thee

Oh pets and lambs, and curious species that are NSRs I have had to discard the chemist magnifying reading glasses which I’ve been sporting these past eight months, they were giving me headaches and hurting my eyes. So endowed with Kruddy money and on easter V A C A T I O N, I toddled off to the optometrist where I was diagnosed with an astigmitism (?) of the left eye, which surely would have been present since i graced the earth or perhaps not...

Oh I don't know ! (Remember rrround those vowels a la Julie Andrews/the Brothers Gibb and your diction will be perfection, yours Evie Hayes.)

Am sure i had the eyes tested when I was in Infants. Each year we had one day, generally when it was overcast and cool, where we Kindergarten to 2nd class pupils had to strip down to our singlets and underpants and queue in the playground outside a makeshift hall to see some health officials. Once you got into the hall and made it to the desk of the Health Official, he/she would check your ears and eyes, listen to your chest, and then with a ruler flick wide the elastic band of your briefs and peer down at your frontbottom and write notes on clipboards. I don't think the state's primary schools still perform that type of health check.

Anyway back to 21st century me. So yes after 45 minutes faffing about trying on a variety of eye frames I finally settled on a pair. I was going for more trad frames but the very kind optometrist indulged me and persuaded me to go for a bolder hue, purple! He said the colour would complement my crown of dark hair.

''I guess it will bring out the Liz Taylor violets" i dimpled as i once again patted my snoode, sucked in my cheeks, pucked up my moue and peered adoringly at my reflection, which screamed back in horror, natch.

No doubt the Optometrist pressed the adore button at that point and another star was added to my title of Icon, and a couple of more boozed and pilled addled spinners were pushed from the mantle, bye bye Judy, bye bye Liza. Ms Liz is of course firmly ensconced on the sign’s tippity top, albeit in a wheelchair behind which crouches a carrion crow like Joan Collins or is that Dannniii?

Tweeter Twitter Twatter

Lindsay Lohan looks a bit like a young Susannah York.

While interviewing Olivier Blanchard last week Kerry O'Brien shrieked "more bang for your buck" about 4 times. Was the autocue jammed?

Just before Easter while shopping in Coles the soundtrack to accompany my purchase of yoghurt (Jalna is my brand preferee) and three beurre boscs was My Sweet Lord. I heard the entire song, it's quite long isn't it. And do you know what the Coles' mix only featured the Hallelujah chorus and none of the Hare Krishna or Gurur Vishna and other Gurur bits.

Julie Andrews and Roger Moore could be brother and sister. They really could.

Clunks Passiona style

Hey guys, buds and special fwends do you remember (granted a challenging activity for the majority of you) a tattoo that was very popular around the mid to late 90s which depicted a ring of barbed wire and is generally placed midway around the upper arm. It was highly prized by Sydney Eastern suburbs beaches types (read wankers, no offence but), Pamela Anderson and lots of other people of that calibre.

Well i do and it's been dominating my pondering hours and i've generally concluded that it will actually be even more trag as the years pass. This morning on the bus when i espied a pedestrian sporting aforementioned tatt it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps this image was not actually meant to be barbed wire but meant to convey a goddamn crown of thorns!! OMG and more grotesque.