Why My Friends Are Awesome

Slutty McRacist: so...i slept with a nigerian last night

Zander: holy crap. that's your first time going black, right?

Slutty McRacist: yup

Zander: you going back?

Slutty McRacist: nah, don't think so

Zander: he wasn't cute?

Slutty McRacist: eh, he was. but i have no idea what his name was

Zander: nice. it was probably "njmboto" or something.

Slutty McRacist: yeah, or "click click"

Slutty McRacist: besides, he lived up in like...washington heights. that's like a long distance relationship. you'd have to be the hottest guy in the world for me to commit to that kind of travel time.

This Can Only Spell D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R

So for some godforsaken reason (actually because of an event I voluntarily signed up for), I was in the office by 7.15 this morning. Did you know that public transport is running that early? And there's like, people outside? Doing stuff? Granted I tend to wake up at semi-ridiculous hours most days, but there's a huge difference between waking up and doing shit. Never again, thank you very much.

I'm already exhausted, which is particularly bad because the drinking will start at 4pm in the office today. Yes, I realise it's only Thursday, but we are having drinks to mark the end of "Movember", and considering my feelings on the whole thing, you know I will be celebrating the fact that I can wake up tomorrow and not wonder why the population of homeless men in Sydney has suddenly quadrupled. There will also be a best (aka worst) moustache competition, so the guys have gotten a little creative today. Should be fun.

But that's not all. a little before 7pm I am boarding a boat to go on a 4 hour cruise around the harbour for a friend's 30th birthday. Apart from the fact that I tend to feel trapped when I'm on a boat, it's an open bar paid for by the hosts, which means there's a good chance I will end up taking an unexpected late night swim at some point this evening.

A Little Upset With Myself...

...because after hearing it last week and trash-talking it, the awful new Gwen Stefani song is actually growing on me a little. I've probably just watched the retarded video too many times. I am a marketing executive's fantasy, I swear.

Not that this is the first time I've changed my musical tastes. A few months ago I would have told you I wanted all of the Pussycat Dolls dead and buried, and now I'm pretty sure I want to be the 7th Pussycat Doll.

In other music news, it's only been about 30 hours since I first heard the song, but I may have found my summer dance anthem for 2006/2007. You can watch the video here, I love it cause it's weird and a little bit creepy. That chick needs some valium.

"Dance It Out!"

I was an idiot on Friday night and despite swearing I would be home by 10pm so I'd be able to wake up early on Saturday and start cooking the Thanksgiving feast I naturally did no such thing. After work drinks where I told my colleagues my personal pickup line ("I'm half black, and that's from the waist down"), heading off with a coworker to see her ex's band play, and then meeting up with the usual crew, it wasn't the quiet night I had envisioned for myself.

Despite all that, most of the food came out great. Well, I should mention that until now I was unaware that you could cook a turkey upside down (why does it matter??) but my turkey, stuffing and garlic mash with melted cheese were all devoured pretty quickly, so I am considering myself successful.

The only thing that really didn't work out was my attempt at gravy, which ended up looking more like a stool sample and needed to be disposed of. I also made salad for 20 people and managed to leave it in my fridge, so my flatmate and I will be eating very healthy for the next few days in an effort to finish it off.

We had agreed that the Americans would cook, so everyone else should just bring booze. This resulted in the non-Americans bringing enough alcohol to kill an African village. Seriously, even after drinking in the park for 4 hours we still had unopened cases of beer, and too many bottles of wine and champagne to count. So what else could we do other than take it all back to someone's apartment, make our best attempt at finishing it off, and dancing around to awful pop music?

Favourite moments from that point forward:

• Interesting attempts at both flamenco and Irish folk dance
• Sesame dancing a little too ghetto and splitting open the pair of shorts she had just borrowed from the hosts
• Paddy falling backwards off of his seat and pouring his entire glass of white wine on his own face. Of course he doesn't even remember it, even though it had me in hysterics for a solid 10 minutes.

Eventually I passed over to the dark side and had to be taken home before I did anything similar, but a good time was had by all. Unfortunately the next day I had to head out to Parramatta to spend time with the family, which would have been a little less daunting if I didn't feel like I was about to die. Ah well, I suppose that's the price we pay. If any good photos surface I'll be sure to post them up here.

Almost Forgot

It's Friday and I can't be bothered to blog for real, but figured I should share my Hamilton Island photos with you guys (for the 3 people in the world who I haven't sent them to already). They're a tad more exciting than the one to the left, I just chose that because it was probably the most family-friendly in there.

Enjoy and have a good weekend, I will probably have tons of Thanksgiving photos for you next week too!

Glutton for Punishment

Went over to Woolloomooloo last night (yes it's a real place, as silly as it sounds) to have a few drinks and then head over to Sesame's place for Top Model and a bottle of Veuve. It ended up being a recap show, which was good for two reasons. 1) I've missed several episodes this season, mostly because of Emla and Dom visiting (an even trade off, I suppose) and 2) we are STILL hurting from last week's painful elimination of Brooke, who was our favourite. And eliminated on her freakin' graduation night that she had missed to be on the show, no less. Tyra, I'm actually starting to lean waaayyyy more towards the hate in my love/hate relationship with you this season. Just thought I'd give you a heads up and a chance to change your ways.

My other major accomplishment for the evening (not that I should count drinking champagne and watching a Top Model recap as an accomplishment in any sense of the word, but I digress) was buying almost all of the food I need to make Thanksgiving dinner this week.

That's right -- yours truly is going all out this year and contributing to the feast. Last year I had just hopped off a plane from my week in Tahiti and didn't have time to make anything, so I can finally make it up to Team America, who did all the cooking last year, and will do plenty of it this year too. I'll be doing a turkey, stuffing, mash, gravy and a salad plus dressing. Slightly ambitious considering I've never done most of those before, but I'm confident I can pull it off.

We're all set for a 30 person Thanksgiving get together in the park on Saturday afternoon, and naturally there will be plenty of pictures of my fuck ups, so now you have something to look forward to.

Happy Turkey Day.

If You Care...

Might as well give you a quick rundown of my weekend, since this week hasn't been thoroughly exciting so far.

Friday

Headed off to Opera Bar for a friend's birthday drinks. Proceeded to get drunk and obnoxious, even after karma kicked in a A BIRD SHIT ON ME. So much for the glamour of outdoor drinking. My friends cleaned it up before I'd even realised what had happened, so the night went on.

I was heading home early around 9pm (don't make fun...I have a lame ass medical condition that will require surgery in the near future, but more on that later) when I was harassed by some flight attendants. They'd all been drinking since noon to celebrate graduating from idiot school, and had already been kicked out of 2 bars that day. They were also the dumbest people I have met in a long, long time. Naturally I stuck around for 2 hours and a few more drinks. Good times.

Saturday

After giving the apartment a good (and much-needed) cleaning that my flatmate is still raving about, I headed to a BBQ and started drinking with the usual assholes. Of course I guess I was a little ambitious, as I ended up passing out drunk around 8pm, waking up for maybe an hour or so later on for another couple of drinks, and then passing out in one of the hosts' beds and eventually waking up next to them around 8.30am. Oops. Why do people invite me to parties again?

Sunday

Hit the beach, went to a birthday picnic in the park, and then ended up at a random bar on William Street where we played crappy music videos until all the regulars had been forced out. Good times. Went home so I could watch Project Runway at 9.30pm, and then realised I was too drunk and tired to appreciate it so I went to bed.

Which is why I need to cut this short, since they are replaying that episode this evening and I'll be damned if I'm missing it again.

How I Feel Today

Courtesy of PostSecret

T. F. I. F.

No, that's not a typo. So glad the weekend is here. In honor of it all (and since I clearly have nothing of value to contribute to this post), I present an oldie but a goodie. Think of it as a window into the scene in any Australian office on a Friday afternoon.




No, seriously. Although the girls could use some more beer.

There's Something On Your Face

Well, after an outrageously fun 10 days, Emla and Domini have left me all alone. It's a bit sad of course, and if I'm going to be in a less than stellar mood, I think it's the perfect time for an overdue rant.

This time it's something that has irritated me for over 2 weeks and promises to do so for another 2 weeks. See, here in Australia they have something called "Movember" -- where guys grow a "mo" (moustache) for a month to promote awareness of men's health issues. However, I have a few issues of my own:

• The specific men's health issues that are named for this are "prostate cancer" and "male depression". I'm sorry, but did they just pick their health issues out of a hat?? What is the correlation here? Granted I imagine that if I was diagnosed with prostate cancer I'd be at least a little depressed, but that's neither here nor there. Shit like this makes me think I will grow a moustache in March, heretofore to be known as "Morch". It will be to promote awareness of ingrown toenails and lazy eyes.
• I can't decide who I despise more -- guys who participate in this, or people who wear those lame ass LiveStrong wrist bands. It's all really the same thing.
• How pissed off must all of their spouses be that their men have an excuse to look homeless for a whole month?
• My absolute favourite has to be the guys who are participating in Movember but can be seen smoking outside their office buildings. Surely even the dumbest of the dumb should be recognizing the irony/idiocy of supposedly promoting men's health while sticking something in their mouth whose main ingredient is cancer. I can only imagine that all of these men are single, as it's hard enough to kiss a smoker without facial hair, I can't imagine what it would be like with one who has tufts of hair around their mouth that absorbs every puff of smoke that escapes their mouth.
• Perhaps I'm just irriated by the sheer genuis of this promotion. I mean, men always seem to be looking for any excuse to have retarded and unattractive facial hair, whether it be a moustache, goatee or a soul patch. Now they can claim they are doing it for a good cause, instead of having to be one of those douches who have ugly facial hair year round and think they are getting away with it when it's so obvious to everyone else that they aren't.

Anyway that's all I have to say about that for now, but I feel better now that I've vented a little. Perhaps 1% of men in the world can pull off facial hair and not look like a twat, so I just wanted to make sure I had advised you that if you're reading this, there's a REALLY good chance that you're not one of them, though I'm sure you think otherwise.

Better The Devil You Know

Haaaayyyyy, I'm back. Have just had the best few days EVER, and I'm pretty sure the rest of my life will pale in comparison.

Took many amazing pictures up at Hamilton Island, however I haven't had a chance to upload them yet. Will try to throw together one of my little albums for it later this week.

In the meantime, I will say that the Kylie concert last night was AMAZING. Highlights:

• Kylie doing the Roger Rabbit at the end of one of her songs, seemingly spontaneously. That was awesome. If only she had worked in The Sprinkler.
• Bono jumping on stage to sing Robbie's part in "Kids" with Kylie. Very nice surprise.
• The little pink t-shirt I borrowed for the occasion. Got an unexpected number of compliments on it. I don't think the owner is getting it back.
• Her new song that she wrote with the Scissor Sisters sounds fantastic
• So not only is this woman nearing 40 years old, but she is just getting over breast cancer? And she still looks and sounds this good?? People like this make me feel like I'm slacking. I'm not even 27 yet, and if you put me on a stage in front of tens of thousands of people the best I could manage would be to get drunk and tell a racist joke.

Seriously though, I've been to a lot of great concerts in recent years (Jay-Z, No Doubt, Snoop, Madonna) but this was definitely the most fun, and I'm not just saying that because I was so drunk. Although we did start drinking at 5, and I did get an additional beer at every costume change. That stuff isn't gonna drink itself, you know.

Dragged the girls out to a trashy bar for some dancing afterwards, which was also a good time until I had to tell some weird old guy to fuck off, which resulted in him yelling "Wanker! Wanker! WANKER!" at me for a few minutes. Uh yeah dude, maybe you should just get some friends and situations like this won't come up?

Anyway it's Monday morning and I feel fine, which means as soon as I eat lunch I will probably crash and burn and have a ridiculously unproductive afternoon. Bring it.

BTW...

We're off to Hamilton Island for a few days, so it'll be a little bit before the next update, maybe longer if I'm eaten by sharks or aboriginals or whatever strange creatures they have up there...

Geez, Just Checking

Well here's another one to add to the list of how AWESOME I was on Tuesday, which had to be told to me by witnesses because I have zero recollection of it. Apparently we went to Wagamama for dinner after the last bar, and I could barely keep my head off the table. Wagamama is one of those places that has long communal tables, but they may be rethinking that idea after this...

Woman (in neighbouring group): Excuse me, what are you eating?
Scooter: Well this is #32, the noodles with chicken--
Zander (waking up for 5 seconds): Hi, I'm black.
Domini: Oh my god, why are you telling her that??
Zander: Cause maybe she wants some of this for dinner.


I'm impressed that I was that clever in that condition. My friends were absolutely horrified. Although I will admit her comeback was pretty good too:

Woman: Um thanks, I think I'll stick to the menu.


Of course I'd already passed out on the table again, so I'm not even sure her comeback counts. But yeah, point of all this is that I'm uber cool.

On Your Marks, Get Set, Drink

Right, so as expected, Melbourne Cup was awesome. The way that any day where my memory stops working around 4pm is awesome.

Things I do remember (and wish I didn't) from yesterday's lunch with my boss and clients:

• Talking way too much (so unlike me)
• Telling black jokes, just in case there was anyone left in Sydney who wasn't aware of the difference between a black man and a pizza
• Saying something that resulted in my boss calling me a bitch

By the time I went to meet up with friends I was BLIND, which resulted in many emails this morning starting with "OMG alex you were soooooo smashed, it was hilarious". Why a grown man not being able to walk upright or speak clearly is hilarious is beyond me, but I'll just take it as a compliment anyway.

I also had to email a friend with the following message: "Hey what happened last night? Did I see you?"

ANYWAY, I'm just happy that Emla and Dom got to see this miracle of Aussie life. They are still having trouble understanding why everyone leaves their offices and gets drunk on a Tuesday when we don't actually have any kind of a proper holiday, but I can tell they like the thought of it.

How The Hell...

I pulled a shirt out of a pile in my bedroom last night and it had a massive tear in one of the sleeves. As in, the entire elbow was missing from the left arm.

I'm pretty sure I wore it out drinking last week, so now I have to wonder how much of that night I was stumbling around looking homeless, and how I didn't notice this AT ALL.

Ugh, whatever. It's Cup Day, and I'm thrilled because my client had the foresight to invite me and my boss to an "Account Planning Lunch" that just so happens to last all afternoon and the location is a bar.

Still loving this country.

"I think there's a Pussycat Doll inside of all of us."

Well the girls are here, and within 7 hours of getting them from the airport, about 20 of us were ordering bottles of wine (three at a time, to keep up with consumption) at Cruise Bar with a view of the Opera House. Random recollections:

• I think I should first mention that it's been a while since I've had people around who incessantly make fun of me (to my face, anyway), so having the girls make fun of the way I talk now -- apparently like a "British fairy"-- has been a rather humbling experience.
• My friends here in Sydney are pretty loud, stupid and obnoxious (strange that we get along so well, eh?), but it usually takes a few drinks before they start to show their true colours. So they seemed a bit shocked when the girls and I showed up and didn't even need a whiff of white wine before we had other tables turning and giving us dirty looks.
• I knew it would happen at some point, but having Emla outgross Derek (usually the most vile out of anyone in the group) was definitely a shining moment.
• Oh that's right -- Derek trying to kick in the door when Scooter was in a bathroom stall at the bar. And then wondering why everyone is terrified of being around him.
• I am so sick of Domini asking me "What is that in American dollars?" that I now give her the price of everything in gold nuggets. Well, my best estimate, anyway. Honestly woman, just buy it or don't.
• Also sick of her asking me several times a day "What time is it in New York right now?" Stock answer at this point? "August."
• Emla has had major trouble hearing since she got here. The thing is, she insists on repeating what she thinks she heard, even though that's clearly not what I said. "WHAT?? HE'S A CARROT?!?" Yes, dear, that's it. He's a carrot. You moron.
• Then again I do say weird things. We were talking about bruises, and inexplicably said "Oh I never bruise. I'm an abusive husband's wet dream." Apparently that was "not right". WHATEVER. It's true.
  
• It's really nice having Dom here, because she's actually louder and more offensive than I am. Yesterday, she managed to yell the word "cock" directly into a stroller carrying a baby. TWICE.

And that's most of what I can remember. I actually didn't make the girls drink yesterday (although I did find it necessary to treat myself to a $25 glass of champagne, don't ask me why) and I will probably give them today off as well since tomorrow is Melbourne Cup Day, and should be a sufficient mess to make up for it.

Should Have Been There

Had things been different, I would have been extremely depressed this week. I was supposed to be in NYC this week for Halloween, and to meet up with my mother. I had expressly bought my ticket for these reasons, however with the new job I thought it more prudent to skip that trip and go back at another time, as much as it pained me. A few of my friends from Sydney and New Zealand were in NY this week, and between their text messages and even a partner in my office flying up there the other day, I was just plain jealous.

To twist the knife a little further, everyone back in NY sent me their Halloween pictures, which was a bittersweet experience. My favourite was probably this one:


Jeff & Joe and their chicks dressed as Mexicans climbing over fences and border security. Because no one I know has any idea how to put together a costume that isn't ridiculously offensive in one way or another. (I even had my whole "slave" costume planned out this year, with rags, shackles, and cotton balls stuck to my hands. And perhaps a white guy in a suit with a whip behind me.) Better yet, when Joe & Jeff were approached at a party by REAL MEXICANS, they attempted to claim that their little getup was sharp political satire. They are now recovering from stab wounds in a Brooklyn hospital, send flowers.

The closest we came to celebrating Halloween here was a friend leaving the bar last night and coming back wearing a kilt and a fake vagina underneath. Thanks dude, that was just...enlightening. Really.


But back to my original point...after all that, I am NOT depressed. Why? Because it is 6.16am here in Sydney and in one hour I am leaving my place to go and get Emla and Domini FROM THE AIRPORT. Australia is about to witness 10 days of wickedness that will go down in the annals (hehe) of history. Or maybe just my blog. Whatever, I bet we manage to break the opera house or something.

Oh For The Love...

You know, I was pretty sure that going to our upcoming Kylie Minogue concert was one of the gayest things that anyone could do. However, that has all been overshadowed by an email I just got from Ticketmaster:

This is your chance to sing-a-long to the most successful movie musical of all time and enjoy one of the funniest nights out you will have for a long time.

Sing-a-long-a Sound of Music is not just a chance to see the classic movie on the big screen; it's a major audience participation event with subtitles for the songs.

Sing along with Julie! Wave your Edelweiss! Dance in the gazebo with Liesl! Bark at Rolf and join in earnest choruses of My Favourite Things! Audiences have dressed up as everything from Maria, Girls in White Dresses (With Blue Satin Sashes), a range of Alps, Lonely Goat Herders, the Baroness and even Ray, a Drop of Golden Sun!

So get in the Habit and enjoy Sing-a-long-a Sound of Music!

If ANYONE I know goes to this, even the gayest guy I know, I will personally inflict major bodily harm on them. For shame.

Twist My Arm

I was really set on not drinking this week. After having such a retarded weekend, I figured the least I could do is wait until Friday work drinks to start torturing my liver again.

So yesterday I was walking out of work, heading to the supermarket so I could have a quiet night in watching some TV with my flatmate. No such luck. Before I'd even made it out of my building I got a call from someone asking me to come for a drink. And of course 6 hours later I was having trouble standing up in the third bar of the night.

And probably the saddest part of it all was that I actually left my friends behind for an hour at 8.30pm so I could go over to Ellen's place and watch the latest episode of America's Next Top Model. Of course at this point I can't remember what happened on the show, and according to Ellen I sat on the couch spilling white wine all over myself and making incoherent remarks about nothing. Pure class.

Now it's Thursday evening and I've actually managed to make it home without getting drunk and offending anyone (an apology email to a friend was necessary when I got to work this morning, of course) so I'm rather proud of myself. I plan to sit here and watch RR/RW Challenge because they have FINALLY started airing the Fresh Meat season and Coral makes my world go round.

Smart Girl

For any of you familiar with the entertaining links to the right on this blog, you probably get a good chuckle out of Go Fug Yourself. The girls who write it are the ultimate bitches, the posts tend to be absolutely hilarious, and who doesn't enjoy laughing at celebrities every now and then.

Generally I read it and laugh because they're spot on, and at the same time I think they have a tendency to nit-pick at really minor fashion mistakes or bad choices, as if we haven't all done this at one time or another (then again, most of us don't pay a stylist tens of thousands of dollars a year to dress us, but that's neither here nor there).

However today I clicked over to check out the latest updates, and was faced with this monstrosity:


I actually exclaimed "WHAT THE FUCK?!" in the office, and consequently spent the next 8 minutes explaining to everyone in the vicinity why I was so shocked and what GFY is all about. But really, the only reason anyone would put on something so ridiculous is expressly to get some attention. She could wear the most beautiful dress in the world but would be ignored because she's a D-list celebrity, if even. You just KNOW this is going to make worst-dressed lists around the world.

So all I can say is, well-played, my dear.