The very definition of “No Fucks to be found”  here:

Part 2. Bali

The best beach buskers in town

You already know what Im going to say.

 Yes, Bali is Australia’s play pen. Yes, Bali plays host to a ridiculous amount of walking stereotypes who hail from Australia.   Perhaps this is where they ran to when Southern cross tats, frangipanni stickers and Bintang singlet tops were no longer considered kinda cool. Back to where they bought them from at “special morning price” from that shop in Kuta down the road from Skygarden night club, and the Bali bombing memorial. Or  at a pinch, maybe it’s a show of somewhat distorted solidarity for the fallen brethren. We shall not be beaten. We still wear our Bintang tops and Havianas with pride, we’ll still flaunt our badly scratched ink from that Tat shop called “Heaven’s Angle” and there is no Balinese bomber on earth who can stop me. In the sense that people from the Shire are synonymous with waving the Australian flag in all the wrong ways.

  If you want it to, your trip to Bali can be just like a trip to Surfer’s Paradise.  In fact it’s hard to tell the difference in some places. It’s just 10 times cheaper and the taxi drivers are more dodgy. ( This adds some Tabasco to your Bloody Mary, you see)   Aussies can act up and act superior to people who are desperate for their “Millions”.   Aussies can go there and feel like they’re doing something exotic, but still have all the things they are used to.  They can still go to McDonald’s if they get tired of Mi-Goren and Otak Otak.   Some Aussies may disagree with my perspective, but you must understand my opinion is objective. I was a  35 year old Bali virgin, until now.

For me the tourist aspect of Bali was not and at the same time just like ( Sama, tidak berubah)  something I had experienced before. I knew that it was a popular spot, and I can see why.  It’s Asia for Beginners. It’s cheap as chips.

For instance if you have hollow legs like Mr. P, a 500ml Bottle of Bintang costs you the equivalent of $3.20 Australian, sometimes cheaper depending where you go.  The most expensive cocktail I had was at the Hard Rock Cafe ( I didn’t even know they still existed) and it was about $11 Aus.  You can easily have 24 liters of beer on the cheap. It was done my friends. It was indeed done.

 People want your cash, and you are effectively a Millionaire: On our Arrival at Denpasar airport we instantly had 2 officially uniformed porters, take our bags and push in front of everyone at customs and get us through quickly before we knew what had gone on.  After leading us through, they took us straight to the Money exchange.  Mr. P said “No only Singapore dollars” and gave them each 5. One was pushy and asked for more. We told them to piss off and kept walking.  Mr. P observing that they would likely have taken us then, to their taxi driving mate, and so on and so forth down the line until they had all been paid in some way.  Shows what a noob I am. Had I been alone I am sure I would’ve had to pull some ‘Cowgirl special’ moves to get out of that one. Interestingly they were 100% less interested in helping out when we were on the return trip. Funny, that.

Doing it tough

 Resorts are super cheap I must admit that for a full 24 hours the first day we didnt leave the pool side of the Mercure Resort at Sanur, where we were staying. That shit was inviting as hell. Deck chairs ( some already reserved by the Germans/Dutch) fountains, a bar right next to the pool, pool side lunch, ping pong.  Did I mention it was stinking hot? Even the pool water was like a bath.  There was none of my usual sense of  shit I must go out and make the most of this, that is usually looming over me on holiday adventures.   We frolicked. We got sunburnt. We got pissed. We drank about $50 worth of that cheap sweet Bintang. We put it on the room. Why wouldn’t an Aussie tourist love that?

 But not to fully take away from that aspect,  that’s not really what I’m interested in when Im over seas. I really like the culture and the art. We learned from an Ex-pat friend that the next day was a Holiday for most Balinese.  I believe it is called Galungan or more exactly Kuningan which marks the end of the Holiday time.  Then most of the shops were closed, markets closed and there were people marching up the road with Barong (  a little like the Chinese dragon you see on Chinese new year) I had been completely unfamiliar with Balinese tradition up until visiting the place. ( I hadnt watched Eat Pray Love, so I was clearly behind the 8 ball right?) I have since learned it is about finding harmony between good and evil, and the spirit and the real

Barong Celeng is the Boar version of Barong.

world, and that there are many different spirits representing different sides. Like Star wars.. Dont go to the dark side…  there is the force in all of us.. just gotta learn that it is stronger in some and how to control it.  You know.

In all fairness I wasn’t in Bali long enough to make one of my usual swathing cuts of cynicism, aside from that about the Aussies. People there are just doing what they need to get by.   The first night in Jimbarran Bay I was introduced to the whole concept that people will do just about anything for a buck. From the lady who was raking the sand flat for the party I was attending, quite literally changing hats  ( From a Coolie hat to a baseball cap) and becoming a pedlar of wares. She knew the deal, she knew we didn’t know the deal quite yet.  We did get some lovely beaded necklaces ( Mr.P got a Man bangle. So trendy) . I asked her whether she had made them herself and she laughed and gestured as if to say “Aint nobody got time for dat!” We paid her far too much by Bali standard, but then, what is far too much? If I pay 150,000 for 3 items that’s about $15 Aus.  I’d spend that much on Coffee in half a week. Seems pretty reasonable if she’s gonna use that money to buy food for her family. At least, that’s what she said it was for. Who knows? She may not have had a husband. That’s a pretty big deal in Bali.  We ladies have got to help our sisters. In my opinion.

That night also saw the encroaching presence of a somewhat slapped together Indo Beach busker band  ( See first Photo) who covered just about any pop song you’d care to name with varying degrees of correct  lyrics. We were there for a party so they were paid to hang around. Probably enough to have let them go home and not work the next day between them.  They were actually pretty great, and I laughed pretty hard at some of the mashed up lyrics. Ive heard worse in Bars in Sydney, though.

We were also treated to some traditional dance. I managed to video this little guy:

We saw Ubud. We could have been in Byron Bay in some parts. There is a Monkey park, which we didn’t visit. Outside there were tables of bananas that tourists could purchase to feed them. “Official Monkey park bananas” O.K. 
~Im told the Monkeys are a bit sick of people coming to stare at them.  Who can blame them really?
 This part of the Island has been made famous by the fore mentioned  Hollywood film adaptation of  Elizabeth Gilbert’s
Eat Pray Love .  Did I mention Eat Pray Love? Seems like everywhere in Ubud there is Yoga, Organic, some more yoga.. I even saw a shop that claimed to do “Organic ear plugs and piercings” I half expected Julia Roberts’ Lips to stroll out of a temple. Apparently  Bulai ( white people) have been coming in droves for ‘enlightenment’ since the 2010 movie. I suppose it’s good for tourism since the Bali bombings probably all but destroyed it back in 2002.  I was surprised at how long ago it happened.  You can see the memorial in Kuta. The lot where it happened is still just an empty block of land enclosed by a tin fence.

All in all I enjoyed Bali. Were I to go again I could safely say Id venture further north and check out some of the more wild places. The tourist spots you need to experience first hand because it is all part of the journey, man. Just dont buy a Bintang singlet top. I will openly judge you.

Terima Kasih.

You can’t impress me, cos I’ve been to Bali too. Part1. Singapore.

The National Orchid Garden

NOPE.

I’m not going to give you a day by day blow of everything. I have read other people’s not so succinct diaries of their travels from Australia to Bali and the like, and I didn’t like their tone, nor their references to “Brown girls” putting ear candles in their ears. Come on Aussie, come on. You’re better than that. You can’t fool me, cos I’ve been to Bali too.

Recently Mr. P and I left Australia’s shores for a one week holiday that included Singapore and Bali. Neither of  which I had visited personally.

I have one most vital thing to say about both of these countries and that it they are STINKING HOT.  Singapore, oppressively so. If you plan to go anywhere where you  really want to pack light, this is it. Thongs, singlet tops and shorts. And if you want to go out, something a bit nicer but still on the light side.  It is more humid than a plumber’s proverbial crack. Warmer than a Duck’s armpit.

You will want to go out. Singapore has a couple of past times, the most prevalent of which is eating. If you’re a food lover like me, you’ll also spend half the time peaking out about chilli crab, variety and how much “Fusion” food there is over there. Fusion means the possibilities are endless. I came away wishing I had opened a small bar in Sydney just so I could put some of these things on the bar menu.

Mr.P and I traipsed all over town mostly by foot, in thongs or by the super efficient MRT. Something Sydney’s “shitty” Rail could learn a few valuable tips from.   Yes it is true that Singapore is a “Fine” city. No eating or drinking at all on the platform, ( ironic for such a foodie town)  or indeed in the terminal at all.  As hard line as it seems to us. It makes for a damn clean station and pleasant travel.  It’s not hard. The people of Singapore that I spoke to along the way don’t see it as oppressive, but something to be “respected”. If you don’t “respect”  the rules, you get fined or sometimes Gaol, or your license revoked and what have you, it’s as simple as that.  NO biggie. Though I have to add, the cops there must be good, as I only saw about 4 the entire time.  We all just wanna get along.  The only real douche bags I encountered were some American Navy guys. Very young and self important and probably didn’t really “get it” there.

This safety aspect, made it easy for taking some back streets to see a little bit more of ‘Singa’, than the usual sites. I wasn’t worried about being accosted by dodgy brothers, or hassled by street beggars.  (We’ll keep that for later adventures in Bali.) We had a $5   ( for 2 people) steamed pork bun breakfast in the Singa equivalent of a 7 eleven, corner shop. We wandered back through Arab street and Little India. We caught cabs and trains and felt no distrust.

Following a tip from Anthony Bourdain’s Singapore Layover episode I demanded to Mr. P that we head out in search of famous traditional Peanut pancake from a Hawker center, out off the main drag called Tanglin Halt. Forgetting to remember that you really need to get there before about 10am. Only to finally arrive and the lady serving to simply tell us “Sorry. Finished”

Fuuuuu! moment if ever there was one.
Never the less, we partook in some interesting Malay/Chinese food from one of the Hawker center’s food stalls that was actually open at 11am. Things seem a little less anxious to open around here,  than the ridiculous hours we like to keep in Sydney. I call that keepin’ it real. Do you actually need to shop for things at 8am?  This was my first pondering and perspective aligning moment of the trip.

Hawker Center food. If you like it then you should put some chilli on it.

Hawker Centers are basically like street food that has been rounded up and put into the corral. There are hygiene laws, and people are encouraged to “Dob in” offenders or rule breakers. The basic rule of thumb when choosing which delicious food to try is: Is there a 30 people long queue in front of it waiting to be served?  If so, join that queue. The food there is thus considered the best at the time, and for 3 Singapore Dollars. ( about $2.80 Aus) you can have a plate of Hainanese chicken rice for lunch. Simple yet delicious. Sit at one of the tables if you can get a seat, and enjoy!  This is one of the greatest contrasts I noticed about Singapore. You can live VERY large. Try $80 for breakfast at the “Boomerang bar and cafe” ( Yes I cringe that we went to an Aussie place in another country, but I was hanging for bacon and eggs) and you can live very very cheaply in terms of feeding yourself if you really want to.

Highlights and recommendations:

The Wine Connection in Clarke Quay.   Wine and Cheese bars are all over town. They are the new Black.

Jumbo’s Seafood Restaurants  We went to one out at an old Army Barracks called Dempsey. Get the obligatory Singapore chilli crab with steamed buns to soak up the sauce. Magnificent. Get your bib on.

Red House Seafood Restaurant Have the White Pepper Mud crab. But make sure you bargain with the waiter for Market price on the crab. And check your bill. We accidentally were additionally charged for someone else’s meal on top of ours.  But it was all sorted out eventually. A good reason to Keep all your receipts, and use cash if you can.

Stacked Dim Sum Bar  If only it was open for breakfast. The Fusion style Dim sum here are amazingly tasty.  If only I owned a bar!

Singapore Zoo Best. Zoo. Evaaaaar. The Orang Utans can climb all over the joint if they want to. You can ride an Elephant if it is within your ethical stance.

Singapore Botanic Gardens Let’s face it. Shit just grows better on the equator. Go and see the National pride, the Orchid garden. I was blown away by how well they grow here.

Orchard Road   If you like to shop, how about 22 Shopping malls and 6 Department stores?

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Pole dancing

I recently undertook a beginners course in Pole dancing. Im not the most graceful of women it’s true, but it is definitely something to tick off the bucket list.

We learned a few moves like the hook, the chair, the stag. We learned how to climb the pole. I learned that all of this is actually easier wearing heels.  I learned that having hands like a ploughman  is the name of the game. It’s called “developing your grip”

It’s an 8 week course run by The Pole Dance Academy. They have studios in both Bondi and Redfern. Once you have finished “beginners” you can move onto Elementary, where Im sure you go on to do more fancy tricks. Through the course you learn a specific routine, and do a little show at the end.  Im not gonna upload that though because really, I wasnt that good. ( since ammeded. see below. In the Spirit on Int. Women’s day I give you my post feminist stance)

It helps if youre exceedingly fit and slim, but even a rubenesque lady such as myself  was able to do most things. As long as you dont feel self conscious or intimidated by the fact that most of the girls doing these courses are already dancers or fit bitches and they find it a lot easier than I did.  There werent many Thick girls that I saw coming and going from the room, that is for sure.

Suffice it to say, the woman who taught us for the final night who goes by the moniker of Shimmy was super fit and svelte. She had muscles where I dont think muscles go. She’s also a Lawyer.

Our usual teacher, Mary wasnt able to attend that night. Which was a shame. But, it was good to get a variety of opinion on our progress.

Here is a video I recorded on the night.

Food

“Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies…..She looketh well to the ways of her household and eateth not the bread of idleness.”
Prov., Chap. 31, verses 10 and 27.

At the moment I have an actual Love/Hate relationship with food.

I have much gusto in the comfort and deliciousness that good, well prepared epicurean food brings me, and I am not ashamed to squeal in delight when someone mentions BBQ Pork ribs. Pulled pork sliders, Pork Crackling and the like.  Bring me plate upon plate of Mexican food. Bring me mountains of Chinese Food ( Not just Gwilo style, the real stuff.. I sometimes think I was Chinese in a past life) Lay out before me a humongous bowl of Pho and I will love you forever.  Take me to Europe and watch me siphon up a plate of Fois Gras. ( No, seriously… take me to Europe)

I am actually in lust with Anthony Bourdain, and I dont think it’s just him, it’s his food stories and visual imagery. Currently addicted to “The Layover“

I love food, and hate it simultaneously because, leading a fairly sedentary life means you put on a lot of weight.  Which now I am trying to get rid of.  Not saying I hate my body, but when you end up with high cholesterol and high blood pressure, going the same way Elvis did doesn’t sound that appealing.   SO im on the 5 meals a day 5 days exercise a week thing. Hardly anything fun. No Alcohol.( well.. nearly none). Once I finally woke up to myself that drinking heaps and eating heaps is what’s making me fat, I have thus far managed to put a leash on the fat beast and have lost 4kg in 2 months. That’s about as much as my cat, in fat. Im pretty happy with that.

That being said, while drooling over epic food porn on the internets I came across this digital copy of a gem of a Book. Published in 1879, a community cookbook  called Housekeeping in Old Virginia     edited by Marion Cabell Tyree, who was born in Texas.

It’s a collection of recipes and info from 250 Housewives ( I assume, though I am also sure a lot of those would have had slaves and servants doing the housekeeping)  of Southern America.

” HOUSEKEEPING IN OLD VIRGINIA. CONTAINING CONTRIBUTIONS FROM TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY LADES IN VIRGINIA AND HER SISTER STATES, DISTINGUISHED FOR THEIR SKILL IN THE CULINARY ART, AND OTHER BRANCHES OF DOMESTIC ECONOMY.”

It blares at the reader. No doubt it was a treasured and much shared community masterpiece.  Did you ever stop and think about making Yeast reserves by boiling hops and potatoes and some more yeast and then putting it in a jar?  No.

And then there’s this:

CRACKLIN BREAD.

Take one quart sifted corn meal and a teacup of cracklins. Rub the latter in the meal as fine as you can. Add a tea-spoonful of salt and make up with warm water into a stiff dough. Make into pones, and eat hot.–Mrs. P. W.

I can only assume she means Pork Cracklin? And on further investigation  it is.  Say wut now?  And the measurements? One tea cup full.. now thats keeping it real. Aint nobody got time for… measurin cups… down in Texas.

It’s Corn bread. It’s Crackling.

    I am absolutely stoked to have found this online. But now I just have to work out what isnt actually full of Lard and Carbs and stuff you shouldnt eat when on  a diet.  Obviously this stuff was pretty staple back in the day.  But they are honest, simple ingredients.

Which brings me to the whole “clean eating” concept which seems to be “The New Black”. Yes. It does work. I am sort of doing it now.. But when I think about it, it is really just taking the god damn time to cook your own food.  “Clean eating” is a new slang that people can sell to unsuspecting, desperate and over weight people who have not a clue.

It’s actually easy.

Chuck the sugar in the bin. Chuck all the snack bullshit in the bin. Dont even eat those things that look healthy like Apricot bars and muesli bars, because they’re actually full of rubbish.  Sounds pretty simple, and to be honest I didn’t think I was eating very much rubbish at all.  Dont even drink Sugar free soft drinks. Rubbish.  All of it.

Whoa! I hear you saying. This from a self professed Alcoholic, beer chugging, wino? Sounds hypocritical. Also sounds like I’m trying to sell you something on a pyramid scheme.  Im not.  If you are dead serious, something’s gotta give.

You dont even have to buy a plan from Michelle Bridges for $120 or one of those online facebook things that I see everyone “Like”. Spend that money on a Gym membership instead.  Or not. Just go for a jog.  I HATE running. I hate it because I have huge boobs and a big bubble butt  and I weigh too much for it to be fun. But I am actually fuckin surprised to see that I am getting better at it. I just visualise myself as Sarah Connor getting ready for the Terminator to come and try to rain hammer blows to her head, and that works for me.  You go girl.  

Another thing I did was join My Fitness Pal.  It’s a website and an app. You put in everything you eat and do. Exercise, calories, water. And, you make friends with totally random people you’ve never even met, and say encouraging things to one another like “great work” and “Well done”. Believe it or not, this actually works. They don’t know you, you don’t know them, but you’re united by a common cause.  And they kick your butt if you stray from the flock. It costs nothing. It’s effective and there are some amazing stories from real people on there.  Including a guy who used to eat 15,000 calories a day. he’s managed to lose over 100Kg in 12 months.  15 thousand fricken calories! Thats about 10 buckets of KFC.

Anyway. not tryna preach to y’all but as they say…

The more you know.

Skimping in life

The older we get, the more wise we supposedly become. While the whole of 2000-2009 or there abouts escape me, I guess experience was accumulating in my brain before I knew it.
Things I like or dislike. Drugs and alcohol I like or dislike. Their long and short term effect on… Memory for instance.
Or how you can acquire an intolerance.

People I like or dislike. How they effect your every day lives. That the quote of the decade could very well be that you really should “surround yourself with positive, successful people”
Also, that things I’ve said to people, or have taught them in the workplace have gone on to effect the rest of their working careers to date.
That other people can reference me as much as I reference them.
I’ve learned that consistency is the key to everything.
“Start as you mean to go on” has its merits, as does “Do what you say you’re going to do” which is one that I try to live by, if I can.

You can’t always get what you want.. But you can give it a red hot Aussie go…And so on and so forth.

Other important things I’ve learned come from personal experience. Often of having bought something terribly and cheaply made.

For example an Umbrella.

Pertinent to Sydney’s current climate of Ultra rain…You need that fucking thing, to stop you getting wetter than Flipper’s blow hole when it’s pissing with rain.

So why the fuck would you ever think a $5, coat hanger looking, bit of flimsy “water resistant” (yeah, that old caper. Don’t ever be fooled) material that is barely held on by a string of shitty cotton thread, is ever going to save you from Australia’s ‘drought and flooding rains’
Even Dorothea Mackellar knew about this back when she wrote that iconic poem ‘My Country‘. She wasn’t flipping about with a $2 shop umbrella, that’s for bloody certain.
She also experienced Australia’s tendency to catch fire and flood way back then. Somehow we modern folk have a flip out every year when it happens again, as though its something new. Not to detract from both the tragic circumstances this causes, as well as the inconvenience.

I’ve learned in life, are that there are certain things you should never skimp on. Not even if you’re a Foul Bachelor frog.
Get a good, big Umbrella. Like the ones sensible Golfers use.

Buy a decent pair of shoes. Good shoes. Going out shoes. Get handmade ones from some store in London if you can. Or from a local Bespoke shoe maker. Your feet need love. Don’t be a tight arse when it comes to your feet.

Don’t buy your undies from the supermarket. They will ride up your arse like every wedgie you were ever subjected to, all day long and possibly make you regret your birth. Just don’t.
Save up some bloody money if you’re a cheap skate, and at least buy a pair of Bonds. If you can buy nice underwear I guarantee you’ll feel happier all day when you wear them.

Shampoo and other toiletries such as deodorant. I have been skeptical in the past about the merits of advertising to and directed at, we females of the species. But there is more often than not, at least some scientific study as to why the good stuff works better. It costs more for higher quality ingredients. It costs more for research to have been somewhere involved.
I don’t buy into snake oil. But some products just do work better than others.

Toilet paper. I’m all for conservation. But if there is cheap shitty toilet paper about. You can guarantee some toilet paper dags in which ever part of your nether regions you try to use it on. Toilet paper stuck in the vagine is a big no no on my list. A big no no.
Nothing grates me more than picking rolled up paper out of my private parts.

And probably not the least on my list is food and stuff that your pet needs.
Please remember that just because something is ‘Surviving’ doesn’t mean it’s happy.
Little Fido needs you. Don’t buy him or her shitty, grain filled, off cuts of miscellaneous bovine low quality garbage food. You know the stuff I mean.
In the long term your pet will have less of the most common problems people go to the vet for. Skin allergies, hair falling out, susceptibility to disease.
Your pet can’t go to the shop itself, and I’m sure  if he had to go out and buy your dinner he wouldn’t rock up to the counter bemoaning the fact that his Human is costing him a fortune and “eats better” than he does.

Abelard.

Australia Day Hottest 100. Fact or farce?

 

Today: On Australia Day 2013, Mr. P was researching on Sports bet the odds on a song that Im guessing will be #1 in Triple J’s Hottest 100. 

Im taking the probably not so far off the mark guess, that Macklemore’s Thiftshop will win.

The Odds on this song at present ( 2 hours before the whole tradition kicks off) are currently paying $4. With Little talks by Of Monsters and Men taking the lead.

Who?

Ive heard Of Monsters and Men because they are played on my work sound “Mood media” system occasionally.  But to me they sound unremarkably Hipster. So Unremarkable. I now  recall why I stopped listening to triple J.

Although as I have blogged in my previous post, I found 2012 to be a better year for my music tastes, I have also found that For the past few years at least, The Hottest 100 tends to be engorged with last minute, flavour of the week music that ends up winning top 10 accolades.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Ke$ha ends up at number 5 and One Direction number 2.

Well, as Mr P says..” that’s pretty extreme”.  Well…In fact were they to make it to those spots it would actually be interesting again.

Come on Australia. I hope you haven’t let the Lamingtons go stale, again.

My Picks are in my previous post.

Internet troll men

The internets is full of sexist comments. This saddens me.
Every time I venture out of my own comfortable, well guarded Internet space I come across loser after uneducated loser, comments about women’s appearances, or opinions on how women should live their lives.
Even when women protest. Even when they try to retaliate with equally as charged replies, they are often simply ignored. Frustrating.
It fires me up. It makes me realize. A lot of men are trolls.
How is it that such unbalanced individuals feel that passing on their not so humble opinion that, for example, a woman in a video on youtube, is there to be judged on whether they’re hot enough for them to want to fuck her or whether they’re a “fat whale”
Firstly. Most men are lucky to get any. The ones who get any and continue to get any female attention, are not the kind of Schrodinger’s rapist these commenters are perpetuating.
Secondly, and perhaps I’m living a sheltered idealist life here, but the more intelligence a man has, the more he understands that body shape and type can vary vastly, and that being a skinny 19 year old only lasts for 12 months for all of us.

Men who make these troll comments, only serve themselves to keep women as slaves. Slaves to their own self consciousness and self loathing. After all,what would society be if man freed the last of its slaves? How would it function!? Heaven forbid.

Top 10 Songs of 2012

No Surprises here.

I like songs.

The last few years have been fairly lackluster in my opinion when it comes to  music that makes me want to  listen twice, let alone on high repeat for weeks like an emo teen locked in my room with the double deck cassette player cranking.

But for whatever reason, and maybe it’s my own willingness to explore new stuffs, I found 2012 to be an exception. Like a breaking drought, if you will.

I have compiled a list of my Top 10 favourite tunes of this year. It wasn’t easy, simply because I fell in love with tunes again this year. ( Or I just learned to listen in a new way, which ever came first) And also because my computer should be put in the bin.  Along with my beer soaked keyboard.

Oh, Paul!

10. Survival Expert. Something for Kate. I’ll be honest and say Ive loved Something for Kate for many years.  Heck, I named my Cat after their song “Ramona was a waitress”. Their latest offering seems like a more “up with the times”, up tempo, adventure album. I hadn’t really given it much thought and it kind of crept up on me. It’s been out since September.

Paul Dempsey yet again proving that you don’t need to be a Vampire covered in glitter to look good in black, packing a Wolf.  (Well its really a Husky but we wont let the truth spoil a good story, right?)

If you dont mind the fucking ads for KFC on you tube watch it Here

9. Bronte. Gotye Everyone loves a bit of Gotye. He’s Aussie with a French name, and by God the French adore him. I couldnt have picked ‘Somebody that I used to know‘ After visiting France this year and being bombarded by the song every 30 mins on French radio.
I love this track because it is clearly about losing someone,  a pet, a fur kid.  It struck a chord with me. It actually made me cry. A lot.  The words:

” We will be with you
When you’re leaving
We will be with you
When you go”

Opened up my tear ducts like Brisbane River flooding. God, Gotye. You really are brilliant.

This is the Official video I cant listen to it too often or Ill still cry.

8. Hanging on.  Active Child.  Where to start? Pat Grossi has the voice of an Angel. He used to be a choir boy, and for all intents and purposes, still sounds like one  This group have really gone out to recapture classical music in a contemporary way.  Harps. Synth. Falsetto and a tinge of the Ginge.  I played this song midway though the year, in my car over and over and over again.  It’s weird music.  But I love it.  Thie Vimeo is Here.  Fly Fishing never sounded so good.

7. Lost. Frank Ocean Frank has turned R&B a little bit dark. A bit more raw. He probably should be doing mediocre Top 20 pop chart hits. He’s not. His Album Chanel Orange took the genre and dumped it on it’s head. Kind of like the R&B version of Outkast   This song has a catchy hook and is great for cranking it up on the ride home from work just before the weekend starts.  He  mentions Boobs a lot too. You cant go wrong with that.   This is a Fan made video. Apparently there is no Official one to be found.  Not how I would interpret this track at all. But.. different strokes!

6.  Get Free. Major Lazer  I think I first heard this back in April, hungover on the way to Red Rooter to get some over priced  hang over food. It was on FBi Radio and I just had to Shazam this shit to find out what the heck was going on.  Half reggae half Synth pop,  Amber of the Dirty Projectors, has a voice that makes this track sublime.  It has quite a lot of layering, that you don’t initially experience.  Get yourself some decent speakers and sound system to fully appreciate it.  Was always going to be in my top 10 after 50  listens. Check out the cartoon clip

5. The Demarcation of Joseph Hollybone. Gay Paris.  I first saw Gay Paris at the Annandale a couple of years ago when they were supporting The Beards. I instantly loved their fucking crazy stage show.  Front man W.H Monks is the epitome of Rock geek.  Glasses, loves History and wears a Goddamn cape on stage. Slim Pickins and Blacktooth look like they stepped out of Nick Cave’s “The Proposition”. Splooshin’ all over the damn shop here.
This is an offering from their new album which was crowd  funded by Pozible. Look at that Rooster go.  As an aside, if youre into Furries,  youre gonna love this shit.

4. Emmylou. First Aid Kit  Im a Cowgirl, and Im wanted.. dead or alive.  You cant be a cowgirl without some reference to country music. First Aid kit are out of Sweden. They are sensationally laid back cool, and make me think of Johnny Cash and Emmylou Harris and June Carter all at once with this track.  Im not asking, much of you. Just sing, Little darlin sing to me.  Really, Im not.  I nearly teared up when I heard this for the first time. Dont ask me why. Maybe the smoke from the camp fire…

You can listen to it Here  Im looking forward to seeing them live early next year.

3. Tessellate Alt-J  BLAM! A late in the year addiction for me, discovering this group, was like finding the door to Narnia. ( Thankyou to the mysterious spotify person who posted their song Matilda in their public playlist, another contender for the best sounds in a long time)  I can barely begin to describe how good their songs make me feel. The Album is called ” An Awesome Wave” and is quite the apt description. When I listen to this entire album, I feel like a wave of morphine is rushing through my veins.

Even the title has a lot of triangle shaped letters in it. Their logo being just that. The song, and word ‘Tessellate’ refers to process of creating a two-dimensional plane using the repetition of a geometric shape with no overlaps and no gaps.    M.C Escher was good at these. I love music with a few layers. A subtext. A hidden meaning.  It could be about a love triangle. It could be about menage a trois. It could be about shark teeth. Competition. Repetition.  Patterns in life. the more you listen the more you hear what ALt-J have done with the reverb. It goes forward and then reverses, just like a tessellated line.

There is a lot of reference to art here. The clip for Tessellate is a modern play on Raphael’s  “School of Athens” painting. One of the most famous frescoes by the Italian Renaissance artist.  The painting gets a ‘hat tip’ to it’s appropriation,  at the beginning of the video, with a print  of it, on one of the cast’s  tshirts.

School of Athens – Raphael

Alt- J have probably been around a lot longer than I know about, but I knew as soon as I heard this track it was in my top 5. 

2. Karmageddon.  Abbe May  This bitch can sing. She sings duuuurteh. This song made me feel funny in the tummy. In that kind of way… Abbe, Australian fox who has taken the rock/pop  music scene by storm in the latter half of this year,  refers to her fans as “Minxes” and is more sweary than even yours truly.  You actually are better off listening to this piece of Platinum, than hearing anything about it from me.  Mind your panties, though. There are a lot of Splooshing  references. I recommend Pants free listening.

Drum roll please…..

1. Freedom at 21. Jack White.  The man can do no wrong. A song about getting free. A song, well… a song that reminded me of me. Call it Narcissistic, but I could certainly see myself as the female hero of this track.

“Listen. Two black gadgets in her hand, it’s all she thinks about.
No responsibility, no guilt or morals cloud her judgement,
Smile on her face,
She does what she damn-well please.

Right. And she don’t care what kind of things people used to do,
And she don’t care if what she does has an effect on you,
Cause she’s got freedom in the 21st Century.”

Jack says he thinks this album was more about the Guitars. Sixteen Saltines, another sensational track from this album will blow your head off.  I was one of the sheep who felt it was more about the return of the Piano to Rock and roll. Having done tours with all male bands and all female bands since the White Stripes, Jack has had to pull back his want, to make it “The Jack White show”. Until he himself,  ” got free”, with his debut Solo album, that melted my frontal lobe with the goodness.  No one can deny, Mr. White rules 2012 with his album “Blunderbuss” I bought it in Japan, at Tower Records.

SO. Fucking. cool.

Child free flights.

You have heard it from me before. The rants about kidlets and you may roll your eyes that I’m at it again.

Last night I caught a plane. It was Jetstar which may speak for itself and set the scene for the most budget, crap, flying tin box you can pay money to be inside of.  The flight was from Coolangatta to Sydney as we had been visiting my Grand old Grandfather for his 90th Birthday. 90 runs, not out they said. I am proud of him for kicking death in the face and spitting down it’s neck, in the true style of those of my genes.  Merriment was had by all, along with  some kind of vintage Champagne that had turned into bubbly sherry, or similar liquery type wrongness.  We all drank it anyway.. 2004 isnt that old…
It was a day trip, kind of decadent to Fly to the coast, get pissed, have a swim and fuck off home again.  It was the fucking off home part, where it began to be less piss head and more pissed off.

Seated in the 4th row, I thought it was grand. Up the front not as many wankers in front of us. Pretty good.  Until a Family of  6 sat down in the two rows ahead. Oldest kid was probably about 10, youngest, what was to be the most shrill screeching mess of a human being I may have ever encountered.  Not to give it away, but it was a large case of fuckery.

As soon as they were seated ( or were tryed to be seated by their father) I could tell this was going to be interesting.
“Someone needs to come and sit between Mum and I ” said the Father who looked pained and irritated after the flight attendant asked him not to open the closed baggage hold above his chair. It was clear he disliked discipline himself.

“noooooooooooooooooo-wah” said the first kid. “Charlie and I are watching the ipad”.

- ‘Well, one of you has to come” said Dad. “Please?”

I get it. Treat your kids with respect, the same way you’d want to be. But Dad had already cracked it for being “asked” to do something. Why would the kids be any different?

After a serious 10 mins, the youngest one was coaxed into the seat between Mum and Dad.  After a serious 30 mins into the flight, Dad was yet again “asked” to place the child in its own seat, with it’s seat belt on. It is after all, a requirement of flying at 40,000 feet in a flying metal object. Im pretty sure if Dad had read the “terms and conditions” he would have had less trouble swallowing this concept, like the majority of sane individuals do.

It began with the descent. First crying, then repeat after repeat after repeat of ever escalating, perpetual screaming. intermittently dotted with “LET GO OF ME!” and “LET ME GO” and “LET ME OUT”. For the entire descent, we were descending into Hell itself.  It was so loud I actually contemplated yelling some of my own abuse, but realised just how futile the situation was.  What do you do? No one said a thing. The parents were cooing and shooshing to no avail, and the rest of us slowly had our blood boil in our bodies as demons and hell hounds tore at our flesh.

Are we all just too bloody polite?

In Britain up to a third of all Passengers who were surveyed said they would pay extra for Adult only flights.  No doubt met with scorn from the Mum club, I have to agree that I’d be perfectly fine paying an extra 50%!, just so I didnt have to put up with that shit.