Codfish Ball

Tonight marks the beginning of a weekend that I keenly anticipate.

Should be a real hoot.

Am off to NSW’s Illawarra region to visit X, Y, Z and A for dinner and a show.

There's gonna be a galaxy of stars.

And I hear Short Fat Fanny and Long Tall Sally won't be there. So that's a goddamn relief. Dirty, filthy, wannabe groupies constantly on the hustle for good time central. Well not this good time, lllladies. It's gonna be all MINE. You hear. MIIIIIIIIIIINE.

Ahem, woo, settle, settle, steady.

So, um, where was I? Ah, yes, there's gonna be a show and it’s going to be spectacular.

We’re staging a salute to the stars of the Hollywood musical.

However, I’m starting to feel a bit of trepidation about the whole affair.

I fear in my case the event might become more of a lachrymose spectacle. While the other stars dazzle with their talent, ability, and charm, my ringlets could wilt, the ankle could twist mid-tap, the voice could crack, and as for my mood, it could turn any tick tock, in true Hollywood tradition. (Impossible to imagine, but hey, like shit, it happens, baby.)

I will be accessing the Illawarra region via the Sutherland Shire, home to Cronulla which is suburban meaning acceptance and goodwill to all. So I’ll be sportin’ nothing but the Australian flag, natch, and a splash of 4711, or perhaps some scent by Prince Matchabelli. Hmmm some “Aviance” now that would be nice.

Thank you and goodnight.

(Sorry, just practising. I'm doing a big show tomorrow night, very excited)