Ouch! That's My - Oh Yeah, I Asked You To Do That Didn't I?

So, lying on a bench the other day, wearing a paper g-string (think small, linen, waist high Japanese cock pouch - VERY wrong) with my knees pulled up to my chest and a stranger attentively pouring hot, hard wax and prodding me around the labia majora, perinneum and such regions (that we don't usually love to mention when they're our own, especially in such a distastefully clinical and non sexual way), my glory spread to the heavens, feeling about as fucking exposed, vulnerable and ridiculous as one could POSSIBLY EVER FEEL, I decided, between gasps, 'what better way to distract said stranger from my anguish/hole(s) than to introduce the topic of film criticisms?'

And thus I launched into my take on Brokeback Mountain: "yeah, nah, yeah, good...? Yeah it was good. Didn't really blow me away though."

Fuck, conversation over. Thoughts of two hotties getting it on in the mountains surely can't distract her for that long. In fact she might get carried away and start crying over my giney or get aroused... Ummmmmmm... Shit!

So I quickly jumped in with "And I plan on seeing Walk the Line tonight."* That'll get her, I thought. Yup.

Oh jeeze. I ran out of things to say so just tried to control my breathing and not to cry with humiliation.

* I did in fact see it and it was AWESOME!!!!!!! Fucking brilliant. One Joaquin is worth ten Jake and Heaths. Both he and Reese Witherspoon are brilliant and the movie is amazing in every way.

This blog successfully includes the longest sentence I ever did write (yeah whatever Steve Martin), the most embarrassing truth about my self yet exposed and the weirdest format for film review ever. Go darce!

Favourite thing today: just to turn another corner (hell why not)... Switch Board for one of the hottest coffee experiences in town.

Kings of Leon and other Adventures of Darcy

A wee absence. Let me just say that funding applications are a sure way of driving you to the land of fucking boring, where one gets old.. fast.

So Kings of Leon. I think I'm getting too old for live gigs where there are no seats. I think I always was too old. Why was I born old?

The only reason some teenager didn't get my broken Becks bottle rammed into their eye was because THEY ONLY SERVE DRINKS IN PLASTIC CUPS after 10pm at the frickin' Palace. What kind of a palace is that? Not one fit for a princess like me, that's for sure. Nor, indeed, my fair prince.

I survived a set and a half of fuckin' shit boring support acts before squeezing my way out to the back where I could get some breathing space with the adults.

And yeah, they were pretty good but if they didn't tell us how much fun they were having up there (way more than Sydney apparently - YEAH!), I'd have never guessed. They were better than comedy night at the Brunswick Hotel but not as good as Bonnie "Prince" Billy's gonna be! Ears are still ringing today - don't you hate deaf sound mixers?

A late review of the Big Day Out: I tried to throw my phone number at M.I.A and her sexy side kick but it bounced off someone's head. Getting wet just thinking about them up there. HOT!!!!!

It's always nice to catch a glimpse of someone's head on the main stage. That way you really know they're there.

Go! Team were the no team.

Iggy... well if you like your steak over cooked...

Beer and ice cream - FAR TOO EXPENSIVE!!!!

Last B.D.O I reckon.

That's all I squeezed into my life beyond rehearsals and application land. Don't be jealous.

Favourite thing today: my osteopath. I think I want to make love to him.