What's annoyed you this week?
Showing posts with label drunken shenanigans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drunken shenanigans. Show all posts
Friday, August 31, 2012
The Weekend Whine - Episode 8
Props to YouTube for always making my screen shots make me look like I'm either sneezing, possessed or insanely drunk.
What's annoyed you this week?
What's annoyed you this week?
Monday, August 13, 2012
Omrah Wine Giveaway
Have I mentioned lately that I like wine? I'm thinking it might have slipped through recently, so I'll refresh your memory.
I like wine. I'd go so far as saying I love wine. If I was being facetious, which if we're honest, I quite often am, I'd say I heart it.
I'm generally not too fussy when it comes to my wines other than it has to be white, it has to be dry and I don't want it to cost over $20 a bottle unless it's your shout. If I'm being picky, an unwooded chardonnay is my absolute, hands down favourite.
You can get good wine for under $20 and, for research purposes, I've tested quite a few. You can thank me later.
I had a bit of a test of the Omrah range recently and it gets the thumbs up. It would get a double thumbs up but I can't do two without spilling my wine. They produced Australia's first unwooded chardonnay in 1989 and though it was many years before I was to have a drink, I am forever indebted to them.
Omrah is part of Plantagenet Wines. They hold a special place in my heart for two reasons:
Firstly, because we often stop at the winery on our way to Albany. When it comes in to view not only does it signal an end to driving for five hours with my knees in my armpits whilst listening to the whines of a bored toddler and putting up with the stench of a farting dog, it announces, like a choir of angels, that the cellar door is open and I can buy WINE!
And secondly, because they have a vineyard called Rocky Horror. I really am quite easily impressed, aren't I?
I have three double packs of Omrah wine to give away and you have two ways of entering that will give you more chances of winning:
1. Complete the entry form below for one entry
2. Complete the Facebook entry form HERE to gain multiple entries (2 bonus entries for shares, 10 bonus entries for liking Omrah on Facebook)
I like wine. I'd go so far as saying I love wine. If I was being facetious, which if we're honest, I quite often am, I'd say I heart it.
I'm generally not too fussy when it comes to my wines other than it has to be white, it has to be dry and I don't want it to cost over $20 a bottle unless it's your shout. If I'm being picky, an unwooded chardonnay is my absolute, hands down favourite.
You can get good wine for under $20 and, for research purposes, I've tested quite a few. You can thank me later.
I had a bit of a test of the Omrah range recently and it gets the thumbs up. It would get a double thumbs up but I can't do two without spilling my wine. They produced Australia's first unwooded chardonnay in 1989 and though it was many years before I was to have a drink, I am forever indebted to them.
Omrah is part of Plantagenet Wines. They hold a special place in my heart for two reasons:
Firstly, because we often stop at the winery on our way to Albany. When it comes in to view not only does it signal an end to driving for five hours with my knees in my armpits whilst listening to the whines of a bored toddler and putting up with the stench of a farting dog, it announces, like a choir of angels, that the cellar door is open and I can buy WINE!
And secondly, because they have a vineyard called Rocky Horror. I really am quite easily impressed, aren't I?
I have three double packs of Omrah wine to give away and you have two ways of entering that will give you more chances of winning:
1. Complete the entry form below for one entry
2. Complete the Facebook entry form HERE to gain multiple entries (2 bonus entries for shares, 10 bonus entries for liking Omrah on Facebook)
Full terms and conditions can be found here
Saturday, August 11, 2012
The Weekend Whine - Episode 7
Oh hai! It's the weekend, there is wine (or this instance, bourbon), therefore there is whine!
Excuse the crappy quality... you'll find out why I'm filming on my phone in a few seconds.
What's made you whine this week?
Excuse the crappy quality... you'll find out why I'm filming on my phone in a few seconds.
What's made you whine this week?
Sunday, July 29, 2012
I came, I saw, I got a swag box
Oh look another Blog event that I got drunk at! Well knock me down with a feather!
Apparently, I'm a small brown marsupial. Not following? Well, it's WOMBAT. Some people will have you believe it stands for Website and Online Media, Bloggers And Tweeps, but after meeting up I'm of the firm belief it actually stands for We Only Meet when Booze is On Tab. Because, well, it's true.
The Jive and I don't pass up an opportunity to go out, particularly when someone else is paying. For him it's because he's a poor student and a night of not eating two minute noodles is quite glamourous. For me, it's because I'm a poor excuse for a once-was-party-er and a night of not changing nappies is as good as it gets these days.
He headed to mine for the time honoured tradition of "getting ready together" which is really code for "I don't want to show up alone for fear of looking like a loser". It consisted of him standing in my bathroom drinking shoddy wine whilst watching me dry my hair and put on makeup.
I applied a little extra oomph to the ensemble with false eyelashes in the hope that having sparkles around my eyes would leave people so entranced that they wouldn't notice my drunken shenanigans. Though as I've found out many a time, no matter how much effort you put in, after six glasses of champagne it's highly likely you'll turn in to a pumpkin with smudged makeup by midnight at a bar in Leederville trying really hard to figure out what the guy with the incredibly thick Irish accent is actually trying to say. Or *ahem* so I've heard.
It was awesome to catch up with old mates and I loved meeting the people I've beencyber-stalking following, and putting faces to names and Twitter handles. We ate, drank, got some freebies, met an incredibly drunk Ricky Gervais wannabe with an intense stare, drank a bit more, posed for shocking photos and left after being asked to go to Leederville with some lovely, random people that had become entranced by our swag boxes.
I have two new Bloggy crushes in the form of Chantel from Bossy Mummy and Cie from Pathetic to Pin up (who rocks a cowgirl hat like nobody's business, let me tell you). I had fabulous conversations with them both, though they may think differently since they were of the cringe-worthy drunken confessional variety.
It was a fabulous night thanks to some fab organizing peeps and awesome sponsors Bubbler, DP and Nuffnang.
What did you get up to? Photos or it didn't happen.
Apparently, I'm a small brown marsupial. Not following? Well, it's WOMBAT. Some people will have you believe it stands for Website and Online Media, Bloggers And Tweeps, but after meeting up I'm of the firm belief it actually stands for We Only Meet when Booze is On Tab. Because, well, it's true.
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| LOVED meeting Yvette and Karen |
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| Fabulous ladies: Georgia, Lani, Sarah, Catherine and Taryn |
He headed to mine for the time honoured tradition of "getting ready together" which is really code for "I don't want to show up alone for fear of looking like a loser". It consisted of him standing in my bathroom drinking shoddy wine whilst watching me dry my hair and put on makeup.
 |
| Swag bags are sooo 2011, swag boxes are the next big thing |
It was awesome to catch up with old mates and I loved meeting the people I've been
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| Artichoke love |
I have two new Bloggy crushes in the form of Chantel from Bossy Mummy and Cie from Pathetic to Pin up (who rocks a cowgirl hat like nobody's business, let me tell you). I had fabulous conversations with them both, though they may think differently since they were of the cringe-worthy drunken confessional variety.
 |
| 1. Screaming in Georgia's ear 2. Intense "Ricky" before he tried to steal a swag box 3. Gorgeous Cie 4. RJT, Chantel and I laughing it up |
What did you get up to? Photos or it didn't happen.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
This one time, I went to Sydney just to go to a party
It would appear that I'm making a little habit of whirlwind trips to other states. This weekend I threw off the confines of the SAHM title and partied like it was 1999. Well, actually, more like it was 2000 because I was 17 for all but two weeks of 1999 and sure as shit someone will send me an email saying I'm a terrible role model encouraging underage drinking if I don't spell out exactly what I mean.
My partner in crime (which is JUST A SAYING) was the inimitable Real Jive Turkey. The Jive and I had never traveled together before and I wasn't sure what to expect. It was suggested I vajazzle my vajayjay as one must be prepared for everything, including body cavity searches by airport officials, but I stopped short and just threw a handful of glitter at my crotch instead.
The red-eye flight over was uneventful, that is unless, of course, you consider inhaling other people's farts, singing along to our respective iPods and a dismal attempt to vlog at 35,000 feet to be a highlight.
We touched down in Sydney at 6am, having not slept, and decided, since we couldn't check in yet, to hit the ground running and do all the standard cliche touristy things like eat McDonalds for breakfast, take photos of a bridge and a building we'd both seen many times before and sit in Starbucks charging our phones like wankers.
The delightful Mrs Woog offered to leave a key out at her house for us to go and crash butI became so overwhelmed with which room I would snoop through first I felt strange to visit someone's house for the first time when they weren't even home, so we declined. This was a huge mistake and the dark rings under my eyes grew two shades darker in protest. Though apparently if I say they grew fifty shades of grey darker all the mums reading this will spontaneously orgasm.
I hit the wall at about 11am, having been awake for 27 hours, and decided that a giant can of carbonated caffeine and paying someone to rub my body would be the only way forward. I sat in the massage chair at a place called Unwind in Erskine Street and had THE BEST massage of my life. I had to restrain myself from groaning in pleasure as she pummeled my muscles in to submission and when she was finished I felt like I should kneel down and worship her. I didn't because it would mean getting down and getting back up again and, really, who has time for that when free drinks are waiting for you?
We pressed on to Bungalow 8 for a fab, slightly liquid lunch with some Bloggy friends. The Jive's list of female blogger friends has just increased ten fold because despite the fact that the conversation veered towards vaginas for a while, he appreciates how dedicated we are atpretending we don't have kids and getting drunk partying.
We couldn't keep our eyes open any longer we headed to our "hotel" at the official check in time. I was in charge of booking the hotel and it's safe to say that that responsibility will never land in my lap again as it became glaringly obvious I had booked us in to a dingy backpackers with convent-like rooms. The shower screen was broken, the shower head was broken, the windows didn't close (and it was FREEZING) and the beds were actually lumps of concrete covered in a blanket so thin I've seen layers of dust that have been thicker. But it was clean, it was cheap and it was central.
I closed my eyes and laid there, in the cold, trying to will myself to sleep for two hours before I decided it was pointless and that Twitter would be much more interesting than the insides of my own eyelids. I was right. Y'all are very entertaining.
Fast forward through what seemed like hours of serious hair styling from The Jive and we rocked up at the party that we were in town for. StMurphy's 40th. The atmosphere was electric and it was so exciting to meet people I'd been chatting to on Twitter for ages (like McDimples!), a whole bunch of new people that I'm now actively stalking, catch up with my faves Mrs Woog and SawHole, and, of course, give the birthday boy a hug and an awesome (if I do say so myself) card.
Mrs Woog started introducing me as one of Australia's best mummy bloggers to all her celeb friends who were there and despite me telling her she was full of shit, she continued. So I did what any self respecting new media junkie would do and let her carry on safe in the knowledge that the darkened room would be enough to camouflage my flushed cheeks and the massive headswell that was occuring.
I managed to embarrass myself by discussing the pros and cons of female urinals with Jo Thornley, complete with actions, and reverted to very similar miming tactics when my voice, which had been failing all day, completely gave up around 1:00am (after over 40 hours awake). A development that left me with the rather unenviable moniker of *ahem* "cock throat" for the rest of the weekend shenanigans.
A sleep in a concrete bed, a walk around The Rocks and a meet up at the pub with some new friends topped off an amazing weekend in Sydney and I was home by 11:00pm on Sunday night. And much like The Jive's luggage, my voice still hasn't returned. But it was so worth it.
My partner in crime (which is JUST A SAYING) was the inimitable Real Jive Turkey. The Jive and I had never traveled together before and I wasn't sure what to expect. It was suggested I vajazzle my vajayjay as one must be prepared for everything, including body cavity searches by airport officials, but I stopped short and just threw a handful of glitter at my crotch instead.
The red-eye flight over was uneventful, that is unless, of course, you consider inhaling other people's farts, singing along to our respective iPods and a dismal attempt to vlog at 35,000 feet to be a highlight.
We touched down in Sydney at 6am, having not slept, and decided, since we couldn't check in yet, to hit the ground running and do all the standard cliche touristy things like eat McDonalds for breakfast, take photos of a bridge and a building we'd both seen many times before and sit in Starbucks charging our phones like wankers.
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| Starbucks, nuts (!!!) and ironing RJT's shirt using a GHD - highlights in anyone's book |
The delightful Mrs Woog offered to leave a key out at her house for us to go and crash but
I hit the wall at about 11am, having been awake for 27 hours, and decided that a giant can of carbonated caffeine and paying someone to rub my body would be the only way forward. I sat in the massage chair at a place called Unwind in Erskine Street and had THE BEST massage of my life. I had to restrain myself from groaning in pleasure as she pummeled my muscles in to submission and when she was finished I felt like I should kneel down and worship her. I didn't because it would mean getting down and getting back up again and, really, who has time for that when free drinks are waiting for you?
We pressed on to Bungalow 8 for a fab, slightly liquid lunch with some Bloggy friends. The Jive's list of female blogger friends has just increased ten fold because despite the fact that the conversation veered towards vaginas for a while, he appreciates how dedicated we are at
 |
| Liz, Zoey, Kristie, Rah, Me, JJ, Fi, Salz, Alyce, Nicole, Denyse, The Jive, Lily & Cassie |
We couldn't keep our eyes open any longer we headed to our "hotel" at the official check in time. I was in charge of booking the hotel and it's safe to say that that responsibility will never land in my lap again as it became glaringly obvious I had booked us in to a dingy backpackers with convent-like rooms. The shower screen was broken, the shower head was broken, the windows didn't close (and it was FREEZING) and the beds were actually lumps of concrete covered in a blanket so thin I've seen layers of dust that have been thicker. But it was clean, it was cheap and it was central.
I closed my eyes and laid there, in the cold, trying to will myself to sleep for two hours before I decided it was pointless and that Twitter would be much more interesting than the insides of my own eyelids. I was right. Y'all are very entertaining.
Fast forward through what seemed like hours of serious hair styling from The Jive and we rocked up at the party that we were in town for. StMurphy's 40th. The atmosphere was electric and it was so exciting to meet people I'd been chatting to on Twitter for ages (like McDimples!), a whole bunch of new people that I'm now actively stalking, catch up with my faves Mrs Woog and SawHole, and, of course, give the birthday boy a hug and an awesome (if I do say so myself) card.
 |
| Card created using MoonPig.com.au |
Mrs Woog started introducing me as one of Australia's best mummy bloggers to all her celeb friends who were there and despite me telling her she was full of shit, she continued. So I did what any self respecting new media junkie would do and let her carry on safe in the knowledge that the darkened room would be enough to camouflage my flushed cheeks and the massive headswell that was occuring.
 | |
| Celebrity whoring it up (with a super bright nose removing iPhone flash) with StMurphy, Julie Goodwin, Mrs Woog, Saw Hole, McDimples, Charlotte Dawson, The Jive, Natarsha Belling and Jo Thornley |
I managed to embarrass myself by discussing the pros and cons of female urinals with Jo Thornley, complete with actions, and reverted to very similar miming tactics when my voice, which had been failing all day, completely gave up around 1:00am (after over 40 hours awake). A development that left me with the rather unenviable moniker of *ahem* "cock throat" for the rest of the weekend shenanigans.
A sleep in a concrete bed, a walk around The Rocks and a meet up at the pub with some new friends topped off an amazing weekend in Sydney and I was home by 11:00pm on Sunday night. And much like The Jive's luggage, my voice still hasn't returned. But it was so worth it.
Friday, June 8, 2012
The Weekend Whine - Episode 4
Wanna link up your ranty post? Go for it! Stick this button on your post and come whine with me.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
The Weekend Whine - Episode 2
Hola!
After being
If no one links up I will hunt down those who demanded a linky and give them evil looks... because that's about as fierce as I get.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
The Weekend Whine - Episode One
Soooo this might fill the void that is FlogYoBlog Friday (now that it's moved on to Grace). But on a Saturday. And then again it might not. I haven't decided yet.
Thoughts?
What have you whined about this week?
Thoughts?
What have you whined about this week?
Sunday, April 1, 2012
DPCON12 in (rambling) words and (bad) pictures
I am utterly exhausted. Four events in four days is a busy schedule for anyone, throw in an impromptu guided walking tour of the best coffee and vodka bars in Chapel Street, a hell of a lot of wine and a three hour time difference and it leads to one very tired, very emotional Glow. And by that I do, obviously, mean terribly hungover.
I have enjoyed every minute; I loved the planning, the panels, the expo hall, the My Blog, My Story speakers, the prizes (yes, particularly the one I demanded from Woogsworld and Magneto Bold Too as penance), the last minute 'faaaaaaark this is really happening' feelings, the Mother Tongue speakers, the dancing... but most of all I loved meeting so many new people and adored catching up with my friends in the flesh and giving them squeezes, kisses and adoring looks when they weren't paying attention.
I am about to crash the way all good emotionally unstable people do after being part of such a massive event. I need a bex and a lie down, or, quite possibly, a straightjacket. I hope I can get it in black because white really isn't my colour, or lack of colour, or whatever. It's been bloody brilliant and I've been honored to be part of an amazing team of hard working women that made it happen.
P.S. The post I read during The Mother Tongue is here
P.P.S. If you have a photo of your Glow Job stamp send it to me!!!
P.P.P.S. Totally copied Magneto Bold Too with the P.S.ing
I have enjoyed every minute; I loved the planning, the panels, the expo hall, the My Blog, My Story speakers, the prizes (yes, particularly the one I demanded from Woogsworld and Magneto Bold Too as penance), the last minute 'faaaaaaark this is really happening' feelings, the Mother Tongue speakers, the dancing... but most of all I loved meeting so many new people and adored catching up with my friends in the flesh and giving them squeezes, kisses and adoring looks when they weren't paying attention.
I am about to crash the way all good emotionally unstable people do after being part of such a massive event. I need a bex and a lie down, or, quite possibly, a straightjacket. I hope I can get it in black because white really isn't my colour, or lack of colour, or whatever. It's been bloody brilliant and I've been honored to be part of an amazing team of hard working women that made it happen.
P.S. The post I read during The Mother Tongue is here
P.P.S. If you have a photo of your Glow Job stamp send it to me!!!
P.P.P.S. Totally copied Magneto Bold Too with the P.S.ing
Monday, March 5, 2012
He who laughs last
I was teased at school. It never went so far as bullying, just your average garden variety kids being assholes teasing. It was always over the same thing... my lips, my smile and my laugh.
Nothing earth shattering. No real attacks on character or morals, but said often by enough people that I developed a complex about it; started covering my mouth when I laughed; not smiling as much; trying as hard as I could to be quieter lest someone mention my big, gummy, pouty, loudness. I doubt that my efforts would have been noticed because even after going to all that trouble I was still the loud gummy girl. It's just who I am.
Over the years I've managed to 'tone down' my smile a bit. To this day, I religiously go through photos and immediately delete the ones where the ratio of teeth to gum is out of whack - before digital cameras it was tearing up photos and putting them in the bin under the rubbish in the hope that tomatoes would ooze on them so even the garbage man couldn't see them if the bag just so happened to split open. So much effort just in case someone I didn't know saw the photo - I never said I was balanced.
The other day I was out with some new friends and when I laughed one of them said "Wow, that's such a loud laugh". He meant nothing by it, for him it was merely an observation and a statement of fact, a passing comment. But what I heard was "Wow, that's such a loud laugh. YOU ARE BEING INAPPROPRIATE. AGAIN. SHUT UP ALREADY!".
Straight away Pink's sober started playing in my head. For me it's one of those songs that speaks to my soul as if it was written for me. Also I was quite drunk on a wine tour at the time so that plays a big part too.
I felt dejected and I was instantly transported back to school. The same feelings came bubbling up as if it was yesterday.
I am always the loud one at parties. I have a social phobia but instead of being a wallflower I swing to the opposite extreme with the fake it til you make it premise because confidence, even fake confidence, is sexy, right? Right?! So I giggle and I shriek and, after a few drinks, quite often I snort too - that's how you know if I've relaxed enough to start having fun.
So I spoke up.
"I was always teased for my loud laugh at school."
The others were surprised. "But your laugh is so infectious, Glow!" (they actually called me Glow, we met through Twitter) "your whole face is involved in your laugh, you can see how much you're enjoying yourself".
I'd never heard anyone say that about me before. A positive comment on my laugh? The laugh that had just echoed, boomed even, through a high ceilinged room?
I was stunned. To be complimented on something that I've only ever gotten flack for was bizarre... but it felt good. Really good.
After carrying this around with me for about twenty years, this fear of smiling and laughing genuinely lest I be judged, one compliment isn't going to turn it around. But it's a start. I believe in starts. And I'm getting the last laugh.
Were you teased about something at school? Do you still have a complex about it?
You laugh too loud.
Do you ever stop laughing?
You laugh too much.
When you smile all I can see are gums.
Your teeth are crooked.
Your lipgloss is uneven... oh wait that's your lips.
Stop pouting so much.
Stop pouting so much.
Nothing earth shattering. No real attacks on character or morals, but said often by enough people that I developed a complex about it; started covering my mouth when I laughed; not smiling as much; trying as hard as I could to be quieter lest someone mention my big, gummy, pouty, loudness. I doubt that my efforts would have been noticed because even after going to all that trouble I was still the loud gummy girl. It's just who I am.
Over the years I've managed to 'tone down' my smile a bit. To this day, I religiously go through photos and immediately delete the ones where the ratio of teeth to gum is out of whack - before digital cameras it was tearing up photos and putting them in the bin under the rubbish in the hope that tomatoes would ooze on them so even the garbage man couldn't see them if the bag just so happened to split open. So much effort just in case someone I didn't know saw the photo - I never said I was balanced.
The other day I was out with some new friends and when I laughed one of them said "Wow, that's such a loud laugh". He meant nothing by it, for him it was merely an observation and a statement of fact, a passing comment. But what I heard was "Wow, that's such a loud laugh. YOU ARE BEING INAPPROPRIATE. AGAIN. SHUT UP ALREADY!".
Straight away Pink's sober started playing in my head. For me it's one of those songs that speaks to my soul as if it was written for me. Also I was quite drunk on a wine tour at the time so that plays a big part too.
I felt dejected and I was instantly transported back to school. The same feelings came bubbling up as if it was yesterday.
I am always the loud one at parties. I have a social phobia but instead of being a wallflower I swing to the opposite extreme with the fake it til you make it premise because confidence, even fake confidence, is sexy, right? Right?! So I giggle and I shriek and, after a few drinks, quite often I snort too - that's how you know if I've relaxed enough to start having fun.
So I spoke up.
"I was always teased for my loud laugh at school."
The others were surprised. "But your laugh is so infectious, Glow!" (they actually called me Glow, we met through Twitter) "your whole face is involved in your laugh, you can see how much you're enjoying yourself".
I'd never heard anyone say that about me before. A positive comment on my laugh? The laugh that had just echoed, boomed even, through a high ceilinged room?
I was stunned. To be complimented on something that I've only ever gotten flack for was bizarre... but it felt good. Really good.
After carrying this around with me for about twenty years, this fear of smiling and laughing genuinely lest I be judged, one compliment isn't going to turn it around. But it's a start. I believe in starts. And I'm getting the last laugh.
Were you teased about something at school? Do you still have a complex about it?
Monday, December 12, 2011
How to curl your hair with GHDs... after half a bottle of wine
I could blame Twitter peer pressure for this.
But really, when I filmed it, it seemed like a great idea.
Now? Not so much.
But really, when I filmed it, it seemed like a great idea.
Now? Not so much.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Moustaches: Not just for porn stars
Last night I went to the grand opening of moustache season aka the Movember Launch Party at The Ellington Jazz Club (read: dimly lit ultra funky bar with a John Butler wannabe on sax) after a ticket was thrown my way by the fabulous Lynda at Nuffnang.
In a time honoured tradition I rocked up at Georgia's house to find her waiting out the front avoiding her children. We go to these events together to avoid that I-don't-know-anyone-here-loserdom that we both exude like the smell of cheap perfume. Usually it's Map Guy dropping us off but he stayed home to feed Tricky so my Dad had the honour. It was just like being back in highschool except that back then I wasn't cool enough to be invited to any of the fancy pants parties. LOOK AT ME NOW, BITCHES! *ahem*
As if it was choreographed, the fag to my hag Kim from The Armory rocked up at the very moment we pulled in and the threesome of awesome was ready to go. We had successfully avoided all awkwardness to this point but I was soon to lose any semblance of street cred when I tried to go in only to find the front door locked... now that is in itself not a major fail until you consider that everyone on the inside could see through and watched me do it. I wasn't clever enough to realize that the entrance is around the back (not a euphemism, Shae).
During the evening I learned some very important things:
Basically I spent the whole time making myself out to be way more important than I actually am, being a bit of a wanker while using phrases like "I'm here in a social media context", drinking too much and posing for photos for the Sunday Times. Brilliant night.
To participate in Movember head over to the website and check it out. Be a Mo' Bro or a Mo' Sister... I dare you.
Go the Mo'
In a time honoured tradition I rocked up at Georgia's house to find her waiting out the front avoiding her children. We go to these events together to avoid that I-don't-know-anyone-here-loserdom that we both exude like the smell of cheap perfume. Usually it's Map Guy dropping us off but he stayed home to feed Tricky so my Dad had the honour. It was just like being back in highschool except that back then I wasn't cool enough to be invited to any of the fancy pants parties. LOOK AT ME NOW, BITCHES! *ahem*
As if it was choreographed, the fag to my hag Kim from The Armory rocked up at the very moment we pulled in and the threesome of awesome was ready to go. We had successfully avoided all awkwardness to this point but I was soon to lose any semblance of street cred when I tried to go in only to find the front door locked... now that is in itself not a major fail until you consider that everyone on the inside could see through and watched me do it. I wasn't clever enough to realize that the entrance is around the back (not a euphemism, Shae).
During the evening I learned some very important things:
- Money raised from Movember supports prostate cancer and depression initiatives
- You should "respect ducks, respect your mo' and respect your fellow countrymen" (don't ask me)
- You should leave a gate as you found it (it's a country thing, ask Map Guy)
- Georgia really likes my hair and tells me so at inappropriate times
- Without a sign around my neck saying Blogger I just look rude when I'm tweeting mid-speech
- There would be swag bags with Call of Duty soldier shaped USB drives and other goodies
The swag of Mo' - The Adonis of a waiter is named Trevor, he's from LA and has been in Australia two weeks
- Heckling the saxophone player by shouting "You'll never be Butler!!! Surrender the fantasy!!!" is frowned upon
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| Kim didn't get the no porn star memo |
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| Dodgy photo with Dennis Lillee thanks to Georgia's camera |
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| "To MapGuy. Trae rules the world. Dennis Lillee" Best. Autograph. Ever! |
To participate in Movember head over to the website and check it out. Be a Mo' Bro or a Mo' Sister... I dare you.
Go the Mo'
 |
| Stick on Mo' FTW! |
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