Texts From Last Night

Actual text messages from a female colleague that I woke up to this morning:

(411): Puking. In my mouth. Yes. It's true.

...and then, 36 minutes later...

(411): So drunk it's ridiculous.


Apart from being gross, I feel like the second text was rather redundant in the grand scheme of things. I mean, if you were vomiting in your mouth (and based on seeing you 2 hours earlier I can be pretty sure it was due to excessive amounts of alcohol and not some gastrointestinal issue), then it would be relatively safe to assume that half an hour later you'd be classified as hammered.

Just sayin'.

Oh, Maggie

Needless to say, the weekend in Margaret River (easily Australia's best wine region, for the uninitiated) was amazing. Great wine, amazing weather, fantastic food. I now have about $200 worth of wine sitting in my kitchen demanding to be consumed in a sad and lonely moment when I realize all my friends are on the other side of the country. Wait, did I say that out loud?

In any case, what I found amazing was that Junior and I were the ones on a wine tour from 10am to 5pm, and yet it was Jam and Chappy who had driven down that day who managed to be absolutely slaughtered during dinner. This included Jam looking like he was going to fall asleep in the middle of his own sentences, and Chappy dropped a full bottle of Sauvignon Blanc on the table and watching a few pours go straight down the front of her dress before one of us put a stop to the madness.

Just blogging about it makes me want to go back, really.

Hurry While Supplies Last

I'd hate to go off on my weekend of wine tasting and fine dining in Margaret River without leaving you all with some very necessary information.

Smirnoff Vodka Mojito:



Go and buy this. And drink it. Now. That is all.

Should Have Known

That is, when my Chappy and Jam said they were going to pick me up at 1pm to go for "lunch" and then texted shortly before noon to say they were coming early because they were "thirsty", I should have known what would happen. But still, I threw on my swimming shorts because I was convinced that "lunch" actually meant a bite to eat and then a trip to the beach.

Even when I went downstairs and Jam, who was driving, walked out of the car with a beer in his hand, I still asked if they had any sun block because I'd left mine back in Sydney.

I started to get the hint when we got to their house at the beach, and instead of eating or walking down to the sand, I was presented with bottles of Smirnoff Mojito Cocktail, and told about the various sorts of wine and beer that were coming afterwards.

But I'd have to say I didn't really know what the obvious outcome would be until I woke up the next morning with little recollection of how I got home (thank god for taxi receipts) and dehydrated enough to drink about 4 liters of water before I'd even left the apartment.

Thanks, guys.

Best 10 Minutes In A Convenience Store Ever

Two posts in one day, crazy, I know. But it was necessary to share this one. When I first clicked on the link and saw that it was over 10 minutes long I figured I would watch a couple of minutes of it and close the window. But it was mesmerizing.

(My favorite moment comes around 8:20, if you're feeling impatient.)

Keeping The Toaster By The Bathtub Just In Case

Well, after blogging about it some 6 weeks ago, I've finally relocated to Perth for a couple of months, hence the reason I've been quiet all week.

If nothing else, the lack of a social life or pretty much anything to do means I can at least focus on doing things I usually can't be bothered with, such as exercise or work. I'm just trying to think about how fit and tan I'm going to be by the time by 30th birthday rolls around to stop myself from committing suicide, which is the official pasttime of Western Australians. True story.

Okay, Fine, They Make Me Pick Cotton

You know, I have spent a huge amount of time debating with non-Australians and trying to argue that Australians, despite initial appearances, are not racist.

Sure they perpetuate ridiculous stereotypes well after the rest of the world has decided that it's not appropriate to say such things, but I have argued that they just say what we're all still thinking, and as a result are much more willing to discuss their beliefs and change them than your average American. Generally, I actually find that preferable.

And then...everyone gets excited about the reunion of a sketch show called Hey Hey It's Saturday (which inexplicably aired on a Wednesday night, but I suppose that's besides the point) and this is what the producers decide is appropriate to air on national television:


And to think, this might have just slipped under the radar if it weren't for the fact that Harry Connick Jr. was one of the judges, and explained why he looked so uncomfortable while a bunch of guys in black face calling themselves the "Jackson Jive" yelled at each other in ebonics and danced badly.

(Having said that, Connick's explanation did sound a little weird, as it included the line: "I just wanted to say on behalf of my country, I know it was done in humour ... but we have spent so much time trying not to make black people look like buffoons that when we see something like that we take it really to heart." I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was that difficult to not make black people look like buffoons. But I guess we all know what he meant.)

Even if we look at it from the perspective of being a cultural misunderstanding (seeing as it's really only Americans that have such issues with black face from a historical perspective) you still have to wonder how the producers could have been so ignorant of this fact that they couldn't at least have asked an American for an opinion before sending this to air.

And so, to continue my defense of Australians -- I don't believe this was racist. Just amazingly, incredibly stupid and culturally insensitive.

All I ask of my Australian friends is that they help me out a little. Please. Good lord.

Like, Totally

Don't you guys seriously hate it when you're walking down the street and people keep looking at you and you're not sure if it's because you look super hot that day or if it's because there's a stain on your new shirt or something? And then you have to go walk by a store window with a dark background and pretend that you're looking in the window when really you're just checking yourself out?

Anyways, I have bought the answer...the best iPhone case EVER:

Now you can just pretend you're using your phone, when really what you're doing is making sure that everyone is just checking you out. For reals.