iPod Lurve!

I know a lot of you have these new-fangled music boxes. I know you spend hours every day "bopping" away to your so-called "rock" music. Well it has come to my attention that you can use your white do-hicky to improve your mind as well as depleting it.

Don once told me:

BTW: I found that Stanford are putting free lectures on itunes. Check it out if you are bored and feeling in need of some intellectual stimulation:

http://itunes.stanford.edu/

So I am giving to you the gift of wisdom. Seriously though, there are a wide range of topics and it is good to hear internal political analysis from the horse's mouth. Besides, you get to listen to that infectious banter that comes before a university lecture.

On a similar note, there is a bucketload of free, out of copyright, movies and audio clips over at http://www.archive.org/. You'll find some lots of old cartoons and silent movies as well as great American propaganda films from the 60s and 70s about the dangers of drugs, pornography and homosexuality. Beautifully kitsch but also a little scary, as the accompanying talkbacks manage to prove that not all that much has changed for some people.

A good example is: Boys Beware (1961).

Check it out! Slip it onto your iPod Video and watch it in the comfort of somebody else's toilet. (snaps to Stop the world Mummy, I want to get off)

UPDATE: Went over to find a little pic from Boys Beware to pop on the post but it seems to have disappeared. I'll leave the link up just in case it irons itself out.

Just A Quicky

I noticed I had it set that you could only comment if you were a member of blogger.com, which I assume would mean you have a blog.

I just wanted to let you know that I turned that off so now anyone should be able to comment. I have a feeling that this also means that we will be hearing a lot about penis enlargement from different spam-bots but I will try to keep that in check.

See the things I do for you!

There's No Taste Like Home

All my life I have grown up knowing that the perfect and most natural word association for the word whinging is... pom. And it is definately true. Hang out with any brit for more than five minutes and you are bound to hear at least four clear and separate complaints about food, weather, clothes or television programming. Believe me, spend a few hours with Rick and you'll begin to whinge about Australia yourself. I always thought that the Brits carried some genetic predispostion to whingability; one that probably stemmed from the shallow gene pool and generations of interbreeding. Yet, on arriving here I have found that there is another natural and just as perfect word association for whinging... AUSSIE!

On noticing this, I pulled on my over-alls, knawed on my strand of straw and got to thinkin'. I've always assumed that at the heart of this whinging is a desire to take aim at the cultural products and practices of the "foreign" country, but that isn't actually the case. It seems now that this whinging is just an expression of dislocation. It is not that the Brits don't like Australian television programming per se, it is just that it lacks the comfort, the predictability and the essential "Britishness" of British television programming. It is just unfortunate that the constant expression of this becomes whinging. It is easier to say that Weetabix is shit than it is to say that you miss Weet-Bix and to look at Weetabix as an entirely new and exciting world of ceral goodness waiting to be explored. We get far to caught up in the comparison of goods without realising that what we are really doing is trying to replace what we can no longer readily access.

I think that the Brits amplify their whinging abroad because at its heart there is an element of "oh my God you are so backward here" but ultimately it is not a matter of cultural progression; it is a a matter of culture. We are all simply used to different things. Different countries have developed different tastes. Salad cream never took off in one country and cream cheese didn't take off in another. It is when these tastes become second nature and we assume that we can find them anywhere that we get that indignation when they are not on the supermarket shelf.

On that note, here are some of the things I am already indignant about not finding at my local Morrisons (which up until recently was a Safeway, apparently):

Weet-Bix (though I do love Weetabix in their own right)
Sirena tuna (because Tuna Surprise will never be the same without it)
Thai curry paste (still on the lookout for some)
Continental Chicken Noodle Soup (not that I ever ate it that much but now I can't get it, I want some)
Those noodles with 5 flavour sachets

UPDATE: After writing all that we decided to order take-away Chinese/Thai. Oh, my Lordy.



I had to take a photo of it to show that you can actually make a "Thai Green Curry of Chicken" without actually using any coconut milk. I hope this is the exception rather than the rule, otherwise, I am going to be whinging my warm little Ugg boots off!

(Upside-Down) Cross Promotion

This is great!

As if in preparation for the Omen remake, Plan 59 have released these fantastic images of kids staring demonically at food.

Bon apetit! (via boingboing)

Now You're In Trouble!

Looky, looky! I have figured out how to spread the tentacles of the iTunes Music Store.

I have been hunting down how I can play for you the Deep Dish track that pushed my buttons at The Market (to such an extent that I pushed my phones buttons) and I have found a way. Just click below:




What joy! Now I can harrass you with music recommendations from afar. And, just like one of those classic party come downs at Don's place, you only get to hear about thirty seconds of each track.

If you need iTunes just pop over to www.apple.com/itunes/download or click on the link on the sidebar.

Weeeeee!

Mixamitosis

Well, I had my first night in London. It was a relatively understated affair; there was hardly a drag queen in sight next to no pole-dancing, but it was still a ball.

The purpose for our little jaunt was to catch up with Rog's ex-housemate, Duncan, a lovely young chap from the land of the long white cloud. We took the "tube" into Shoreditch to the Dunksta's flat. From there we went off some underground bar just off Old Street named Smersh, which was sort of like the Russian version of Double Happiness, only less busy. It was quite sleepy that night so after a bottle of beer and some vodka we moved on to Trafik, where I drank my first pint (well, my first pint in London, this time around). Trafik was cool, if not a little non-descript. Our next stop was a cocktail bar under some restaurant. Martinis, martinis, martinis. Joy of joys!

But of course, the fun didn't stop there. For some ungodly reason we ended up travelling across town in a black cab to get to a summer beach party in Clapham, which Duncan decided to drag us to. Lovely crowd, lots of delightful chit chat, lays a plenty.

Then came the fun part... getting home, because unfortunately, London, the city that never sleeps, is also home to the London Underground, the transport system that seems to sleep with clockwork regularity. No "tube" after midnight. So in the middle of this terribly cold evening we had to negotiate the Night Bus system. Left at 3am got home at 4:30am. We are starting to put together a little portfolio of reasons to move closer to the city. This one goes straight to the top of the list.

Anyway, long story (kinda) short: Red + Vodka + Beer + Gin + White = Nasty, queezy stomach feeling = Not going open air ice skating today!

3, 2, 1... Contact!

Hey you all,

Just wanted to let all of you know how to leave a comment here in case you didn't catch the link cos it is quite small. It looks like this (you just need to click on the underlined comment link next to the speech bubble):


Everytime you leave a comment it also gets emailed to me so I see it pretty quickly (plus I can rush and remove comments if things degenerate and you start slinging offensive language at each other a la the Brokeback Mountain talkback).

In other contact news, the other day I used iChat to video natter with Rick and JP and it works a treat. It was almost like being there but without the sweltering heat and the tennis. To prove to you the wonders of iChat (and to annoy JP to boot) I sneaked some screen shots. Get in and grab a look quick cos I know they are going to force me to remove them.



If you want to rush out and buy a new iMac or MacBook Pro (ooh flash) they have a built in iSight camera. Just visit the Apple Australia website. Otherwise, if you are cheap and don't care for style, you can buy any old camera and use a PC by downloading AIM. The two programs (iChat and AIM) are compatible, though I am not sure that I have managed to get it to work kink-free yet. My iChat username is noneckedmonster@mac.com

And finally, I thought I would post a few pics of me (me, me, me!) that I am trying to choose between for my profile. Ultimately I have to have them on the web to put them on my profile so I thought I'd put a few on so you could complain if you don't like the one I have put on. Talk amongst yourselves...



UPDATE: It seems you have been looking at my profile (cheeky monkeys!) so I will get on to that soon too.


Love yous all! XxX

Happy Australian Days...

So, on this very chilly English Australia Day I have received the first pics in of some much warmer Australian days. Thanks Don for all of these. I have put a few up for everyone, you can find the rest at donaldritchie.com (how's that for blatant cross-promotion). On a similar note, other friends are popping up with blogs so I shall post those bits and bobs in the side bar for your perusing pleasure.

So, without further ado...

Let's start with Midsummer at Fed Square. Note the very flat rain soaked hair on yours truly. What a very Melbourne day that was, weather wise!





And it wasn't only raining of course... it was raining GAYS, Hallelujah!!!



Next up we have the dinner at Palate the Saturday night





We haven't got a shot of the Long Island Ice-Tea yet but we do have Kelly with a dessert mo'



And it was all downhill from there...





Then to Blu Bar and the wonderful story of Nerida and her beau...



And me and my alcoholism!



Unfortunately we don't have shots from The Market (not yet anyway) but we do have Nerida yearning for some meat. Thanks to some careful cropping and framing we can now quietly forget the shop attendant's bewildered grin.



Mmmm MEAT!

Berrymead Gardens: A guided tour

Let me show you around, give you the lay of the land... This is where I find myself humbly aboding. 48 Berrymead Gardens in sunny Acton. Because I am nice, and in true Aussie ex-pat style, I have donned my new Ugg boots and stepped outside to show you our lovely lemon frontage.



The open door you can see leads into a foyer where there is another door to our upstairs flat and one to our neighbours downstairs flat (apparently they are lovely). It is a sort of air lock where we can trap unwanted visitor and if all goes ahead with the planning permits, once we electrify the floor, we can torture them as well. Joy!

Oh, and here are the aforementioned Ugg boots. Thanks Mum!



Once inside, at the top of the stairs, you get an eyeful of the big mess in our bedroom. If you play your cards right you can see right into the toilet. On a good day you can even see Roger making little brown fish. It is pretty small but the en suite bathroom is handy.



Looking out of the bedroom is the hall. I don't know why but I find this rather charming. there is not much to the place. On the right are the kitchen and the living area and at the end is the stairs to the loft where our imaginary housemates live. I say imaginary because we hardly ever see them. I am sure that will change. At least I hope it does; it will help combat the cabin fever.



So then, here is the kitchen, where you can see that I am cooking my world famous Tuna Surprise. Unfortunately this time the suprise was on me because the tuna over here tastes like cat food, and bad cat food at that, not the gourmet Dine stuff. Luckily I had bought three different varieties. The second can I opened was not quite as bad. I am still holding out hope for the third. If only someone would import Sirena tuna over here. I am sure they would make a killing.



Here is the lounge/living area. Quite nice in late afternoon because it catches the sun (say from 1 till 1:30 when it starts getting dark).



And here is the view from the window. Not the lady with her wheely bag. You can almost hear her lamenting the fact that she couldn't buy any decent tuna at the local store.



Well, that is your guided tour for today. It is actually nice out so I am off to the city to scare some small children.

Say Hello!

Hey there everyone,

This is just a quick note to say thank you to everybody for the other day, and for the other days leading up to the other day. I had such an enormously enjoyable last few days in Melbourne. Many of you asked me if I was excited about leaving and setting up a new life in London and I couldn’t really say because I was saddened by how much fun I was having at the time, and that with each precious moment that passed, I realised, just that little bit more how much I am leaving behind (for those who need to be hit over the head with a message: THIS MEANS YOU! ALL OF YOU, YOU ARE SO IMPORTANT TO ME!!!). Suffice to say that if I had it in me to keep an actual physical diary, in years to come, it would be the past few days that would be dog-eared, highlighted, and rendered almost illegible for all the tiny notes and comments scrawled in the margins and between the lines… oh and tear stained (hopefully you will all forgive me for being such a dribbling mess).

One big regret I have is that I have so few photos of the last few days. I have a few of my last family lunch down at Idibidi with my parents, sister, Paul and the kids.








What I don’t have (and I know they are out there) are photos of the Bolinger, which I am still astounded they actually sell at Retro Café, Shamil’s face as he resigned himself to the fact that he had left another phone in another taxi, the Alcodol machine and the lascivious bacchanal of Nerida, Gabriel and Donald at Blu Bar (or did I thwart all of Dennis’ attempt to get that one). Does anyone have photos of Kelly’s Long Island Iced Teas? I don’t think anyone managed to snap Samara in her Advance Australia Fair Bikini but if they did I would like a framed, signed copy, or one of Neale’s religion-revealing shorts for that matter. Seriously, if you have any decent shots, send them to me and I will post them here.

And the pool… ah, the pool. Heaven on a stick. Won’t be doing that over here any time soon. Will have to wait a while until Ibiza heats up (hint, hint, Sam, Stu…). I think the only time I have felt hotter than Saturday was at The Market that night. And I have to add here, it is somewhat disconcerting to think that now I will be looking back on that place as one of the best nights I have spent in Melbourne (barring of course the Moloko concert at Good Vibrations). It was dance-tastic there the other night. I actually hunted on the net this morning for the song that went, “Saaay helllloooo…” (yeah, the one during which I texted greetings to everyone on the dancefloor) and I found out that I already had it on my iPod. Maybe that is why I liked it so much. I’m a clever boy.

Anyway, I should go. And to those who got as soppy as me: Sam, I’ll always pick up the phone for you… in the words of E.T. Be gooood! That goes for you too Stu, wonder twin powers activate! Shel, don’t worry, I’ve been just as bad. Shamil, there is nothing I can say that I haven’t already said (when you’d let me get a word in!), Don, Neale and Nerida, thank you so much for coming over it really meant the world to me, as you all do, (Nerida, keep him; he has hair!), Dani, I will kidnap him if you need me to! Jamie, Kate and Skye, I was so determined not to look back… but thanks for the extra loving! Get married and I’ll come back! Chrissie, keep those boys in check. Byron and Jim I’ll see you over here soon no doubt, thank you so so so much, staying with you has been like living with a couple of jazz soloists. Romy, sleep with your bits covered you little bitch-whore! Rick and JP hope the house stays standing without me in it. Those weddings can’t come fast enough!


Enjoy your summer, bitches!

Mike